Winners of the 2009 Metamorphosism St. Valentine’s Day Limerick Contest

First of all, wow. And my sincere thanks to all entrants. The entries to the 2009 contest can be found here.

Despite attempts by me to confuse things with random rule changes, there were significantly more limericks entered in this year’s contest than in past years. They were quite classy as well, and most managed to follow the rules, even when those rules called for Latin or Icelandic, or diseases that affect rat behavior.

There were even entries entirely in Latin, and Irish. Thanks guys.

Things went kind of crazy for a while, which was nice. As Anon wrote:

I think Muireann and Trish should both be disqualified. They seem to be using this competition as a forum to air their petty grievances and are not taking the competition seriously. For example in the last 28 posts there has been no mention of a burlesque performer and only one or two references to scalpels. Some of the limericks seem to be written in an unidentified foreign language and could have any meaning. How can that be judged? They should at least be asked for a translation. Also the limericks are of poor quality and there are too many of them. There should be a cap on the number of limericks allowed and there should be more control of unruly participants.

However, since Anon was posting from the same ISP number as Muireann, I am disinclined to disqualify her at the behest of a household member who obviously bears a grudge against her. (You might want to look into that, Muireann.)

We judged this year on the basis both of quantity and quality, using a weighted algorithm and a compass. As a result, the only possible contenders for places 1, 2 and 3 are, in alphabetical order, Jann, Muireann and Trish, and it comes down to their bonus points. Toxoplasmosis gondii would normally have automatically cinched it for Jann, as that is my favorite protozoan, and the one I was hoping to elicit with the related rule change. However, the sheer quantity of Muireann’s entries won her points, as did the Icelandic. Honestly, I did not expect to see much real Icelandic, beyond references to Björk, maybe. Trish was doing well, in the running for first place, until her broadband went out, setting her back somewhat.

As a Solomonic solution, I was briefly tempted to let Tony and Ian tie for first place, but my wife said that would be a stupid thing to do.

Anyway, here are the final results.

First place: Jann (extra points for toxoplasmosis gondii, and also more of her entries stuck closer to the rules, and the youtube burlesque link)

Second place: Muireann

Third place: Trish. Sorry about your rat, Trish.

Thank you to everyone who entered. See you next year.

As far as this year’s prize goes, I am hitting the flea markets in search of trophies. I’ll mail the winners when I find some, or something similar, for mailing instructions. Or, how about you guys let me know where to send them?

On the Decline of Blogging and the Metamorphosism St. Valentine’s Day Limerick Contest Massacre Last-Minute Rule Change

Bran and I were just talking about blogging being less fun due to its commercialization etc, when the original point was subversion of editorial control by the self-publishing part, and of authorial control by commenters, and its being sort of replaced by twittering, facebooking, flickring, and so on, and whether one couldn’t somehow come up with something that had the features of the latter while maintaining the individuality and subversion of the former. No idea.

Comments here are never edited, except for spam and maybe one or two really hateful ones in the TEN YEARS I’ve been doing this, but the unfortunate misunderstanding-based flamewar (in limerick form! yay for metamorphosism flame wars!) in this year’s limerick contest has necessitated a (literally) last-minute rule change. No previous entries will be disqualified, but EXTRA POINTS will be awarded now for entries following the following rules:

Reqiured themes: general bawdiness, redemption, and/or reconciliation. Bonus characters: famous peace activists, famous ventriloquists, escape artists. Bonus languages: Latin, Icelandic. GOOD LUCK.

Goddamn rock ‘n’ roll

Gonna take a week off. Gonna go to Hell. Send ya a postcard. Hey I’m doin’ swell! Wish you were here. Aloha from Hell. I’ll be dancin’ thru the flames. Like a devil in disguise. You can hear me sing. But not by satellite. You can hear me sing. Aloha from Hell. Gonna get a lei. Ring o’fire round my neck. Big ol’ she-devil kiss. Aw hell! What the heck? I’m packin’ my duds. Aloha from Hell. I’ll be glad to get away. Up here everything’s so swell. You know some like it hot and down there it’s hot as Hell. Don’t forget to write. Aloha from Hell.

(The Cramps, “Aloha From Hell”)

Bye, Mr. Lux

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.

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.

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:

  1. You move the cabinet out of the entry way, otherwise the large piece of furniture in question won’t fit past.
  2. 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.
  3. Then, you carry it through the entryway horizontally.
  4. 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.
  5. Then you carry the furniture horizontally to its final destination, or place it on a blanket and slide it.
  6. Was that so hard?