02Feb / 2009

The Sense of Being Stared at by Zombies

This morning, after being awoken by kittens at 4 AM after spending my first night alone while my wife was away on business and my children skiing with their grandparents and aunt, and kicking them out into the hall and ignoring their scratching at the door and then falling back to sleep and getting up at 5.30 to feed them and the big cats and then eat breakfast and feed the birds and clean litter boxes and take a shower and shave, I went upstairs to get dressed and standing there in the walk-in closet found the phrase “The Sense of Being Stared at by Zombies” in my head at the same time that I heard something scratching in the walls, much like the sounds taken to be rats in the ceiling or attic, I forget which, at the start of the novel “The Exorcist” (after reading that as a kid I lost any interest in watching the movie), and so stood there, wondering on the one hand what new resident this was I was hearing, a nest of martens, perhaps, or rats or birds or demons (when I thought of demons, another phrase entered my head: “The bad thing about slicing open demons is more demons come out”) and on the other what would differentiate the sense of being stared at by zombies from the sense of being stared at in general, and if it was humorous to imagine Rupert Sheldrake discussing the first draft of his book ultimately published as “The Sense of Being Stared At” with his agent, and his agent advising him to take out the zombies then it might be okay, or if I was one of those people who should not live alone for an extended time.

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02Feb / 2009

Cautionary Tale for Adults Dealing with the Highly Gifted

Many years ago a fellow student at my university told me a story about an experiment a class of honors students had conducted with their professor a semester or two earlier, involving a robotic drill invented by one of them with which a very deep hole was drilled in the floor in the corner of the classroom. Then, by smiling when the professor was warm and frowning when he was cold, the students eventually maneuvered the professor, who wanted to be accepted and considered pleasing and entertaining, into the hole.

After he fell in they connected the two ends of the hole and he is possibly still falling now, thirty years later. Although he must have attained terminal velocity long ago, he still continues to accelerate, very slowly, as friction from particles suspended in the air, and the air molecules themselves, polish the rough fibers of corduroy trousers and tweed jacket he was wearing that day.

It is one of the most fondly-recalled pranks in the history of the honors program at that university, and alumni amuse themselves at reunions by calculating the professor’s current velocity.

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02Feb / 2009

Careers in Science III: Astheniology

As luck would have it, the astheniologist’s daughter is diagnosed with pneumonia right before a big test and has to spend the holidays at home, both messing up her academic schedule for the rest of the year in a big way, and stealing a holiday season the prospect of which had sustained her through the first part of the year.

As luck would have it, her parents just got new sofas, so at least she has a new sofa upon which to recline.

As luck would have it, the astheniologist’s back went out right when the sofas were to be picked up, meaning the astheniologist’s wife and her father had to do the heavy moving. The astheniologist took a professional interest in this, and filmed the first segment of the moving, his wife and father-in-law getting part of the old sofa which was still in good enough shape to save up the stairs to the daughter’s room on the second floor.

The astheniologist saw the humor in this, as did his younger daughter, his wife and father-in-law less so. His elder daughter, the one with pneumonia, wisely abstained.

The new sofas, though, that had to be carried in after the old sofas were removed, the new sofas both came in a single piece – unlike one of the old sofas, which could be broken down into two pieces for easier moving. The new sofas were both a lot heavier, too.

So the astheniologist went rapidly from the hysterical barking of orders to holding the heavy end and visualizing the nerves extending from his spinal column, out between two lumbar vertebrae and down his leg, mere microns from being put out of action by whatever it was that was making them tingle already, while his wife and father-in-law did god-knows-what at the other end. Argued semantics or something.

According to the astheniologist, see, it is a good idea to know beforehand precisely how you are going to get a large, heavy piece of furniture up some stairs and around a corner and through a door, through an entryway and around another corner and through another door before you pick up the piece of furniture, and not stand on the stairs trying to fit it through the doorway, each of the three persons involved pushing in a different direction and shouting.

According to the astheniologist, this is how it is done:

You move the cabinet out of the entry way, otherwise the large piece of furniture in question won’t fit past.
You stand the large piece of furniture on end at the top of the stairs, turn it 90 degrees so it goes through the door the skinny way, not the fat way, and carefully shove it through bottom end first, not vertically, since it is longer than the doorway is high.
Then, you carry it through the entryway horizontally.
Then you stand it up again for the next door, turn it 90 degrees so it can go through the door the skinny way, not the fat way, and push it through bottom end first, but very carefully, because the people holding the high end are standing with their backs to the cellar stairs, and it is important to avoid them sliding down the stairs head-first, on their backs, with a large piece of furniture atop them.
Then you carry the furniture horizontally to its final destination, or place it on a blanket and slide it.
Was that so hard?

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29Jan / 2009

A walk in the woods.

It was a cold day, and there was snow on the ground.

“Hang on a sec,” she said, reaching for his face. “There’s ice in your eyebrows.”

“Nah,” he said. “It’s not ice.”

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27Jan / 2009

How to effortlessly influence reality with your thoughts

You are standing there with half a tooth on the end of a wire that apparently had been used to anchor it in the socket in your skull because the wire, which looks like tiny re-bar, is speckled with dental cement. You see the tooth backlit against a grey but bright sky outside the sliding window you remember from your childhood home; also a second tooth fell out. You sigh, trying to remember the rest of the dream, and wiggle all your teeth with your tongue, just to make sure. They all still seem to sit firmly.

You still have to get up early because even though it’s a holiday it’s not a holiday for your kid and you feed the cats and start coffee and take a shower and wake her up and drive her to school and before you drive her to school you have breakfast with your wife and joke that probably right after you get your windshield replaced you’ll be driving home and a tractor will merge in front of you at the first traffic circle, a tractor with a big trailer full of rocks, and a rock will bounce out and smack and there goes the brand-new windshield.

After dropping the kid off at school you go to the windshield place, a new place someone told you about, a new place you heard about on the windshield-replacing grapevine, cheaper than the dealer by about 45% and you meet your wife on the road and follow her car there and go in and give the guy your keys while his German shepherd sticks it snouts in your package the whole time and the guy, who looks a lot like a troll if trolls chainsmoked, says pick it up at 4 PM. Then you drive home with your wife and do stuff and at four she drives you back and you pick it up. It looks just fine. Brand new and clean. You try to remember how many you have replaced since moving to Austria 20 years ago. About ten. More than five, anyway. More than the zero you had replaced in the United States. You figure this is because one you have been driving more in Austria than in the US (about 20 to 4) but two more due to the fact that it rarely snowed in the Pacific Northwest where you drove in the US, and when it did snow they generally just left the roads slick and stayed home, as opposed to Austria where everytime a snowman farts a bunch of guys run out and throw gravel on everything because this is Austria: life goes on when it snows. Also probably these guys get paid according to how much gravel they spread, plus a bonus from the windshield industry.

There was the Peugeot, which you probably would have replaced the windshield except then you totaled the car. Then there was the Fiat, how many did you replace there? Three? Then three more on the Mazda, at least.

On your way home, at the first traffic circle, a brand-new tractor pulling a gigantic red trailer, also brand-new, full of rocks, merges in front of you. On the straightaway, where you cannot pass due to oncoming traffic, it loses a rock.

This is all happening in slow motion.

The rock falls off the back of the new red trailer, and bounces. With each bounce it loses a little momentum and comes a little closer to your car. It is now bouncing about six or seven feet high. You let up on the gas to maintain your distance between the rock and your car, but it comes closer.

You step on the brakes. It is down to maybe bouncing three or four feet high.

Then it is just rolling, and it rolls under your car. You give the tractor a lot of room, though.

Leaving for work the next day, you tell yourself, no doubt I’ll probably win the lotto today. And lose a kilo.

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23Jan / 2009

Guest Post: Boutros Boutros Ghali on the Inauguration Scandal

I must admit, I am impressed by the speed at which the new President of the United States works. Already on day one, Inauguration Day, his administration had its first scandal. And I am not referring to the flubbed oath, which was not really his fault, and which he wisely re-oathed later, just to preclude any wacko conspiracy theories, on the one hand a sad reminder of the significance of wacko conspiracy theorists in your country, on the other hand sort of entertaining for people who like to laugh at your country, not that I number myself among them. No, I am referring to the Millivanillification of the music. “It was a cold day,” is not an excuse for such behavior, although I do admit that I did feel sorry, as I sat in my study outside Baden Baden, watching the ceremony while dining on a meal of mahi-mahi and cous cous (with Walla Walla onions), for all the musicians playing in the cold (Duran Duran played at low volume on my stereo in the background). Yo-Yo Ma, of all people. A man of his stature, finger-synching. Shame on you, Yo-Yo. Not only did they get Yo-Yo to perform (what, was Isserlis busy? I mean, have you compared Ma’s version of the Bach Cello Suites to those of Bylsma or Isserlis? Seriously.), he didn’t even really perform. Or he did, but then they played something else? That’s what Britney said. Honestly. I could have performed under those conditions. Zsa Zsa Gabor could have, and with greater flair. I sincerely hope an investigative committee convenes soon to look into this.

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20Jan / 2009

8th metamorphosism.com International Valentine’s Day Limerick Contest

PLEASE NOTE NEW, EMERGENCY, (literally) LAST-DAY RULE CHANGES BELOW!!!11!!!!

Time for the 8th (I think) annual Metamorphosism International Valentine’s Day Limerick Contest.

Enter in the comments to this post.
Winners will be announced on 14 February, 2009.
ENTER AS OFTEN AS YOU LIKE!!! But read the rules before entering! Or else!

IMPORTANT NOTICE: THERE HAS BEEN A SMALL CHANGE IN THE RULES FOR THIS YEAR’S CONTEST!!

SECOND IMPORTANT NOTICE! THERE HAS BEEN ANOTHER RULE CHANGE!

Poems entered must be an actual limerick. We are strict about this.
Entries must contain a Latin word or phrase.
Extra points awarded for working in one of the following: a king, a burlesque performer, an extinct or rare musical instrument, a prosthesis, NEW: an obsolete, extinct or rare musical instrument. NEW RULE CHANGE HERE: No kings, prostheses or obsolete musical instruments after all. All entries with kings, prostheses or obsolete musical instruments will be disqualified. Unusual or innovative musical instruments will still be allowed. Instead of kings, extra points will be awarded for parasitic diseases affecting the behavior of rats. Prostheses and prosthetic devices shall be replaced by surgical equipment.
NEW RULES (made necessary by the unfortunate flame war in the entries): entries are to include themes of general bawdiness, redeption and reconciliation. Bonus characters: famous peace activists, famous ventriloquists, escape artists. Bonus languages: Latin, Icelandic.
Rules subject to change without warning (changes will be posted here or in a subsequent post)

(Note: Over the years, a number of rude etc expressions have been added to the comment blacklist so if the comments refuse your entry that might be the reason. In that case, mail it to me at metamorphosist (at) gmail dot c0m and I’ll set you up.)

Feel free to search this site for past winners. Good luck.

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