Archive for the 'Gibberish' Category

This is what I think of every time I hear that song.

I needed to get this out of my head. Sorry for the ugly.

This post will not interest you unless you have an Amazon Kindle. I spent some spare time over the past 2 weekends writing up Bibliorize, which is a website that helps you manage a list of web pages you’d like to read and then download them all onto a Kindle without connecting it to a computer. It’s something I always wanted to have, but I spent way too much time on it. Perhaps poor timing launching it the same day as the Kindle 2 is announced, but such is life.

If you have a Kindle, please try it out and let me know what you think.

I am deeply concerned about the current shortage of rigid collodion, and you should be, too, for the simple reason that it has terrible implications for my Halloween costume.

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For the past few months, I’ve complained about the lack of attractive options for displaying mouthwash. Those of you reading this from the clawfoot tub of your palatial master bathroom may not understand why one would consider mouthwash a display item, but in New York apartments, storage is an issue. I have a fantastic apartment, but there’s almost nowhere to put anything, especially in the bathroom. I am left with this:

Generic Green Mouthwash

Hideous, no?

I considered a few options, such as a decanter, and hoped that I would find something decent-looking at Muji, but no. There are plenty of lovely ways to show off your hand soap, but nothing really appropriate for mouthwash. After complaining about the issue to my friend Ben, he said, “How about a bottle of Maker’s Mark?” Brilliant! Why didn’t I think of that before? My bottle of Maker’s Mark was only half-empty, and though I love a challenge, I wasn’t quite up to the task. Fortunately, I had an empty bottle of Jack Daniels sitting around. Behold!

Classy Mouthwash in Jack Daniels Bottle

How awesome is that? I have to imagine it’s an excellent conversation piece, except that I have already raved about this to anyone who might actually use my bathroom. Plus, I get to “pretend” to be a complete degenerate every morning when I take a swig from a bottle of JD. Sometimes I even bring it into the shower with me. It can be hard to start the day.

The main limitation here is that you have to use brown mouthwash, the flavor of carbonated bile. I suppose that makes some people feel clean. Ben’s wife, Lucy, suggested using a Bombay Sapphire bottle and the far more palatable blue mouthwash. But I don’t want to break the illusion, and I don’t know anyone who drinks gin from a bottle. I’m sure you’re out there, though, and are a lovely person.

For extra classiness points, I recommend leaving the bottle on the toilet tank. With the seat raised, of course:

Mouthwash Jack Daniels Bottle on Toilet

As far as Bush cabinet members go, I don’t have too many problems with Henry Paulson, Secretary of the Treasury. He was a little slow stepping up to bat for the current financial crisis, but now he’s doing a decent job and doesn’t beat around the bush. The former CEO of Goldman Sachs, he may over-sympathize with Wall Street, but from such stock are treasury secretaries generally made.

But, the man is a dead ringer for Lex Luthor, arch enemy of superman. This would put him on the wrong side of Truth, Justice, and the American Way, which is not where one wants a cabinet member to be. Check it out:

OK, not twins separated at birth, but there is a bit of a resemblance. Also, both men are billionaire financiers who achieved high positions within public service (Lex: president, Hank: cabinet), and I can only assume that Luthor ran as a Republican. As a point of contrast, Lex Luthor was a mad scientist until being reinvented as a financier in the 80s, while I understand that Paulson was a English major.

See also John Edwards = John Ritter

Update: In recent days, I am beginning to reconsider the stamement “I don’t have too many problems with Henry Paulson,” but he is probably doing what Lex would do in this situation.

Did you know that England is not in fact run by the Queen but is instead under the thrall of one Prime Minister Gordon Brown? Of course you did! Such smart clever readers!

While in England recently, my friend informed me of the exceptional childhood of Gordon Brown, who was chosen at an early age for an experimental, accelerated learning program. “You mean like Ender?!” Indeed, Gordon Brown’s childhood appears to be modeled off of that of Andrew “Ender” Wiggin, which-came-first aside. Consider the following, which might as well be from Gordon’s Game:

When he arrived at university in 1967, he was just 16, having been fast tracked in a pioneering scheme for the brightest pupils. He had succeeded at just about everything he had tried, whether in the classroom or on the sports pitch. But after two terms at university he was left lying in bed in a darkened hospital room, both eyes covered in patches, unable to move or read. The retina in his left eye was detached…

I believe this makes Gordon a bit duller than Ender, but it’s a high bar to meet. On the other hand, I don’t think Ender even attended college, so we’ll call it a wash.

In many schools, the pupil who is consistently top of the form, or teacher’s pet, would often be targeted by bullies. But Gordon won over the boys because he was a precocious talent on the sports field.

Replace “sports field” with “Battle Room” and “precocious talent” with “precision weapon,” and there you have it. And finally:

After becoming leader of Britain’s Labour Party in June of 2007, [Brown] stripped off his Battle Suit, went to his bunk, and wept: for the little boy who had left Kirkcaldy so long ago, for the monster that had replaced him, and for civilisations lost…

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, I highly recommend the book Ender’s Game, by Orson Scott Card. It’s science fiction, which is not everyone’s favorite genre, but even my friends who only read Real Literature have enjoyed it. Just replace “Ender” with “Gordon.”

I have attempted to mimic British “spelling” in this post. Let me know if I failed.

“My gym installed new door handles” is one of the least interesting sentences in the English language, but hear me out, as they are in fact noteworthy door handles. Previously, I had to pull on some piped metallic door handle, the kind you might find on the door of a public library, if you were the sort of person who reads books. Instead, as befits my slow and steady attempts to look like a 300 cast member, I now get to pull on these bad boys:

David Barton Gym Skull Door Handles

Although they are harder to operate than the aforementioned lame library handles, the skulls are undeniably cooler. It’s not clear where one is supposed to grab them, but I stick my hand in the eye sockets, which is how I usually open bisected skulls.

In fact, they remind me an awful lot of Castle Grayskull, by whose power Price Adam turned himself into He-Man. If it’s good enough to turn the effeminate ruler of Eternia into The Most Powerful Man in the Universe, it’ll work for me.

Castle Grayskull

In my random polling, no one is quite sure why they were installed, but I have a theory. The David Barton Gym in Chelsea has a largely male membership. Most members are men’s men, this being Chelsea. In fact, the gym used to be the YMCA, rated highly by construction workers, police officers, and Native Americans. Now, the whole place has the feel of an upscale gay nightclub, with dim accent lighting, Red Bull, and a DJ booth. This is not really my scene, but it is a fine gym nonetheless. My theory is that the skulls are intended to scare away what few women still attend David Barton Gym. From interviewing the only female member I know, I can confirm that the plan is working.

Many people have often wondered how big the Internet really is. I know the answer, but I’m not telling. Instead, I set out to find which country has the fewest web pages. Along the way, I learned a bit about US sovereignty and unicycles. more…

I was at my local expensive supermarket the other day, and I ran across an excited girl sitting in a shopping cart, talking to herself. As I walked by, she shook her first at me and shouted, “You crazy old man!” I had just had a birthday and was sensitive to this jab. A little part of me died, and I cried on the inside. And then I hit her. A little part of her died, and she cried on the outside.

Note: not actually true, though she did shake her first.

Has no one else noticed that John Edwards looks a whole lot like John Ritter? I think it would be alright to have the quirky roommate from Three’s Company be president, but not the dad from Problem Child. He had anger issues.