Film festival

The radio this morning was all blah-blah-blah, some guy got to pick 24 movies to be shown somewhere, I had the impression Venice. Let’s say Venice. Which movies would you pick? I thought about it, and decided I’d have to pass.

This will really shock you, but it’s been years and years since I’ve had the aesthetic real estate to consider films as art.

Here is what I do instead of considering film as art:

  • wonder when I’ll finally get the radiator painted in the upstairs bathroom
  • clean litter boxes all over the fucking house
  • look for a USB stick with something vital on it
  • run upstairs and unplug the router and plug it in again
  • stick a kitten inside my shirt, eat real fast, and when it sticks its head out, go, “AAAAAAAA! Alien!” and flail around
  • in fact, that’s about the closest i come to thinking about film
  • my family’s pretty tired of that joke, too
  • dishes
  • sometimes I cook, mostly on weekends
  • yardwork
  • climb into my car thru the passenger door because some dork parked me in on the other side
  • put gas in one of our cars
  • wonder what I could do to get along better with my wife
  • wonder if I’m spending enough quality time with the girls
  • think about wasp nests
  • wonder whether I should turn the yard into a vegetable garden, or just plant new grass. I suppose it depends on what the Dow does over the winter.
  • look up at the sky
  • practice cello
  • have a dream about a punk band composed of reformed skinheads, the drummer of which sits behind half an oil drum (as shield against objects thrown at them), a guitarist of which wears a derby hat and says, “look, I’m a Britney” that then morphs into a dream about decapitated children wearing 19th-century suits and dresses, with horrific vermin (gigantic insects etc) swarming out of their clothes
  • wake up and feed all the cats

Little-known facts about the true limpet

  • First off, the term “limpet” is inexact, referring to salt- and freshwater gastropods with lungs or gills.
  • If you mean a marine limpet of the ancient order, you have to say “true limpet”.
  • Although “marine limpet of the ancient order” sounds sort of cool by itself.
  • Conical shells, mostly under 3″ in diameter, stuck to rocks or other hard substrates, often covered with growth of algae making them even harder to see, etc etc.
  • Ambivalent by nature, the true limpet currently thinks maybe everyone ought to vote for McCain after all, on sort of a variant of the “you break it you buy it” rule, namely, “you break it, you keep breaking it until everyone figures it out, then you eat it if they have to shove it down your throat, then you leave them alone for a long time.”
  • Or, maybe not, on second thought. The true limpet would feel a lot better about voting for Obama, though, if he could be certain that the Democrats would not just, once again, drain yet another Republican quagmire and then go back to business as usual, but instead make them regret creating a quagmire in the first place, really put them off the idea of making any more in the future. You know, like, punitive taxes on those responsible for the Wall St. mess (by which the true limpet does not mean poor home buyers), or laws to finally make corporations subject to punishment for misdeeds, including real fines that hurt, freezes on all activity (akin to imprisoning human evildoers) all the way up to permanent confiscation of all assets for capital (hrhr) crimes.
  • The true limpet is also wondering how much it ought to worry about the Mayan calendar and December 2012, and whether the surface of a rock in the intertidal zone is the safest place to be if this is right.
  • True limpets invented the term “clampdown”: when they really clamp down, brute force alone is insufficient to remove them from their rock. The limpet would rather be squished than let go of its rock. They are, however, often susceptible to sweet talk.
  • Most limpets graze on algae.

Sunrise this morning

Gamma took pictures of the sun on our way to school this morning. Here are a few:

Two pictures of Prague

I took several pictures when we were in Prague, here are two.

prague cafe sign

prague chalk face

I’ll take the Icelandic economy for ten, Bob

The end of the world interests me as much as the next guy, maybe more. The reason I don’t write about it here is I figure, either you’re interested in it, in which case you are already reading somewhere else about AIG managers investing their bailout $$ in cucumber masks, or you’re not interested in it and will find out the hard way soon enough. Either way, I figure we’re here for the kittens, amirite?

I had a dream last night – in fact, I was having it this morning when my alarm went off – that a Turkish international economist had called me from Washington DC and left a message on my thin white Nokia cellphone (Finno-Ugric/Turkish connection! woot, extra dream points). Here is the weird, dreamlike part: The message consisted of a telephone number that would be “open” for the next ten minutes, she said. She read the number, and then, knowing I never understand anything people say on my Nokia, she read it again with a mechanical male voice. At least two of the numbers were in a foreign language, however.

I wrote them all down when I woke, figuring I might buy a lotto ticket today. I just googled the two words I had not understood. One turns out to be a Banda initiation rite, the other is a word in another language meaning pilgrimage.

He also used a metal fork to remove a piece of toast stuck in the toaster once, with similar results

Our kittens, this might surprise you, have been cute lately. One of their tricks is to run in big circles in the living room, in opposite directions, until they attain maximum velocity, at which point they crash into each other, producing a ferret and a Republican attack ad. We call this the Particle Accelerator Trick.

So you can imagine how intrigued I was to read this which I found here on Brian’s blog, which he found here on Neatorama.