dglenn: Me in kilt and poofy shirt, facing away, playing acoustic guitar behind head (Default)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 05:28am on 2007-07-13 under , ,

"I have a grown daughter that I raised with another woman. When she was four, we left her one afternoon with my parents to go shopping. My Baptist father usually slept afternoons away on the couch while my far more progressive mother delighted in children. Upon our return, I opened the door to hear our daughter saying 'Yeah, he only hangs out with guys and wears a dress? Plus that long hair? Never got married? I just figured it out one day: Jesus is a Radical Fairy.'

"My father was sitting bolt upright, his eyes bulging. My mother was doing her best to keep from collapsing in hysterics. I rushed in to hush my daughter, but my mother said 'Don't you dare.' She repeated to my daughter, 'Radical Fairy?' And the child says 'Yeah, not like Bert and Ernie. They're more like preppie gay guys.'"

Maggie Jochild, 2007-07-01 (one of many people responding to a contest for stories of children embarassing their parents (thanks to [info] realinterrobang pointing out the collection))

dglenn: Me in kilt and poofy shirt, facing away, playing acoustic guitar behind head (Default)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 05:26am on 2007-07-13 under , ,

"I have a grown daughter that I raised with another woman. When she was four, we left her one afternoon with my parents to go shopping. My Baptist father usually slept afternoons away on the couch while my far more progressive mother delighted in children. Upon our return, I opened the door to hear our daughter saying 'Yeah, he only hangs out with guys and wears a dress? Plus that long hair? Never got married? I just figured it out one day: Jesus is a Radical Fairy.'

"My father was sitting bolt upright, his eyes bulging. My mother was doing her best to keep from collapsing in hysterics. I rushed in to hush my daughter, but my mother said 'Don't you dare.' She repeated to my daughter, 'Radical Fairy?' And the child says 'Yeah, not like Bert and Ernie. They're more like preppie gay guys.'"

Maggie Jochild, 2007-07-01 (one of many people responding to a contest for stories of children embarassing their parents (thanks to [info] realinterrobang pointing out the collection))

dglenn: Me in kilt and poofy shirt, facing away, playing acoustic guitar behind head (Default)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 05:26am on 2007-04-02 under , ,

"[...] This concept of seder is no different for kabbalistic Oreo-eating. Which should come first? A straightforward bite into the whole cookie? Should one first break apart the two sandwich halves and concentrate on the creme? One can postulate that if white represents purity and goodness, and black evil and darkness, then perhaps one should eat the white first, as an example of the yetzer hatov triumphing over the yetzer hora? Or should one save the best for last, so to speak, by first destroying, via consumptive powers, the Darkness (the cookie part) and be left only with Light (the creme)? Or perhaps, this sort of binary weltanschauung is not healthy at all it may be preferable to take the centrist position and bite into the intact cookie, representing the real-world mix of good and bad, light and dark, moderation versus extremism. [...]" -- Owain F. Carter, "The Year That Oreos Became Kosher", 2000, adapted from an earlier version of unknown origin.

dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 02:38pm on 2007-03-29 under ,

Google maps provides directions from NYC to Dublin. Note step #23 in the directions.

( Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] merde, who in turn got it from [livejournal.com profile] boutell.)

dglenn: Cartoon of me playing electric guitar (debtoon)

They say that it is good to learn at least one new thing each day. Yesterday I learned that rush hour traffic exists (on I95 and the Capitol Beltway) on Saturdays. (Non, je ne comprends pas ... [how do you say 'either'?])

Today I learned that if you screw up badly enough, you can get Cheddar cheese to burn with a visible flame (yellow, by the way), instead of just quietly turning black and smoking. Surprisingly, breakfast was still rather tasty ... but unsurprisingly, the house now smells funny. (Sorry, B.)


The thing about falling snow is that even at its absofuckinglutely most annoying, it's still pretty. (The same cannot be said for already-fallen snow, as one of its more annoying modes occurs when it's all dingy and ooky-looking. *shrug*)


Cursed be those who use rare or nonstandard screw threads on things for which users will need to obtain large numbers of screws later. Fie on them! *ptui*


Apparently my bass is only too quiet when [livejournal.com profile] maugorn is present. Other times I'm told it's too loud. (The word I got last night was that the bass parts sounded really cool, but I drowned out the bouzouki and the drum. Whoops. In other news, the fingertips of my left hand are really sore now, after spending a big chunk of Friday night on bass guitar and the second half of last night's gig on double bass. (The marathon strip-the-willow set felt like it was going to kill my arm and/or a few of the dancers, who were having too much fun to stop dancing even as one of them later said he was trying to remember the location of the nearest hospital in case he danced himself into a heart attack.)


Related to the preceeding item, I've realized that completely filled mixers make me nervous, even when the mixer is filled simply because it's exactly the size we need. (And brand new, so having a channel suddenly die on us was unlikely.) I just get unreasonably twitchy knowing that there's no room left to plug in anything else. It worked out just fine (except for not turning up the drum and bouzouki when I started tugging at the bass); the 'problem' is a personal mental one.


I need more comfortable dressy flat shoes. The ones I wear to visit Mom and for coat-and-tie gigs (last night was coat-and-tie-and-kilt) are nowhere near as comfortable as my pumps, my medieval/Celtic shoes, or even my winter boots. I probably shouldn't wear shoes that make my feet hurt; I've got a surplus of physical pain in my life already.

Not that I'm likely to get around to doing anything about that until/unless I start needing to wear those shoes significantly more often than I do now.


And more 'news' than 'observation': I think Perrine has forgiven me for Friday. She was mad at me all of Saturday. But since what she was annoyed about was my having left her alone for so long and feeding her really, really, really late, she couldn't express her anger by snubbing me -- she needed her togetherness fix. So she sat on my hip in bed, and later curled up by my ankles, but glowered at me whenever we were both awake, and refused to take treats from me. Today she seems her normal self, even wanting to play a while before breakfast (despite having given me the "I'm hungry" signal as I woke up). Playing "pounce on the disappearing string" with her as I was falling asleep last night may have helped. (I poked a scrap piece of rawhide lace out from under the blanket and slowly reeled it back in, giving her a chance to pounce and grab it as it disappeared, thrusting her paws under the blanket to catch it. Perrine likes that game.)

So my cat was mad at me, but she couldn't punish me by ignoring me without making herself more unhappy. (Fortunately she did not reach the peeing-on-things level of feline annoyance.)

Let's see -- I left the house last Sunday and returned home on Wednesday. Then I dared to leave the house again on Thursday -- only for a couple of hours to get my guitar picks (er ... fingernails) repaired and shop (unsuccessfully) for screws (fie, I say!), but she didn't know that as I was leaving. Friday evening I went to [livejournal.com profile] silmaril's birthday party and stayed late, including the aforementioned missed feeding, and yesterday I bustled about clearly preparing to leave the house yet again. And Perrine hates it when I leave. (Yes, my cat is a bit clingy. When I first got her, she followed me around from room to room for several days straight, waking up to follow me if I stood up while she was sleeping. Abandonment issues? She was wearing a collar but starving to death when I found her on my back porch.)

What she'd do if I had a regular job, I do not know. Every time I take a shower, she tries to pin me to the bed with her cat-gravity before I can put clothes on, and gets all "I need to be Petted and Scritched a WHOLE LOT, Right NOW", because she knows that showering and getting dressed usually means Leaving The House, which she doesn't want me to do. This doesn't usually stop me, of course. It just makes me wish she coped better with my going away every so often, as most humans have to do.


And since I've mentioned cat gravity, I've been pondering a slightly different explanation than the one put forth by Robin Wood. I'm thinking that super-heroes are, in gravitic terms, anti-cats. That is, we often see super-heroes (and super-villains) performing feats that require not only the great strength so many super-heroes are known for, but also incredible inertial mass. No matter how strong you are, if you mass ten slugs (~300# on Earth) and get smacked by an automobile massing a dozen times as much (a couple of tons) going thirty or forty miles per hour, well regardless of how strong (and indestructible) you are, you're going to be accelerated ("flung" might be a better word) far more than the car will be slowed by hitting you. To stop the car, you'll need womdigious amounts of friction between you're colourful boots and the pavement (and crouch to line up the force vectors just right so that you don't just get knocked over or lifted into the air), or an inertial mass close to or exceeding that of the vehicle.

(Superman, and other super-heroes who can fly via unexplained propulsion or by gadgetry (so this would include Iron Man, but not Storm[*] or Angel) could be argued not to be constrained by this analysis, as they could counter the force of impact with whatever propulsive force enables them to fly. So we'll have to look for other evidence to determine whether Mr. Kent (and possibly Mr. Stark's powered armour) are similarly anti-feline[**].)

But these same super-heroes are often seen walking or standing on surfaces that would not be able to withstand the pressure of that much weight over the area of the soles of their shoes, and when they climb into an automobile we do not see the suspension bottom out (with the exception of a few individuals already known to be unusually heavy, such as The Blob). Therefore their gravitational mass must be much less than their inertial mass, precisely the opposite of the effect observed in cats!

(Again, those with the power of mysteriously-propelled flight are not covered in this argument, as they could counter their weight by "flying" at zero altitude. But here, Mr. Stark's boot-jets would not exempt him.)

Therefore, assuming that the different kinds of mass must add up to the same quantity over a large area, we should be able to predict approximately how many super-heroes -- at least of the non-flying variety -- there are, by counting up the feline population and measuring the average difference between feline inertial mass and feline gravitational mass and estimating the difference between inertial and gravitational masses of typical super-heroes. Once we determine how many cats are needed to cancel out one super-hero, we can estimate how many still un-heard-of super-powered individuals are waiting to come out of the closet er ... phone booth.

Hmm. This suggests that spay-and-neuter campaigns have the side effect of reducing the number of super-heroes and super-villains being born[***]. But that may not be a bad thing -- have you noticed how much of a mess super-battles tend to make? Cats can do a hell of a lot of damage to furniture and carpets and anything that can be knocked off a table, but how many cats would it take to smash as many cars as a typical encounter between Mr. Parker and Dr. Octavius?


In the future, we should also calculate the energy expenditures of super-heroes and figure out how much time they would need to spend eating in order to have that many calories of metabolic energy available to them. Anybody feel like tackling that one?


[*] Of course, Storm could summon a perfectly-timed tornado-force gust of wind -- more of a microburst -- to stop the speeding car, but that's a different sort of maneuver.

[**] What's the best word to use for this concept, "anti-feline", "contra-feline", "counter-feline", or something else? "Felinverse"?

[***] Or created through exposure to meteorites, freak chemical accidents, irradiation, or arachnid bites.

dglenn: Cartoon of me playing electric guitar (debtoon)

This just showed up in my mailbox, un-credited. [Edit: It took asking Google three different ways and then Googling additional clues as they turned up in a sort of breadcrumb-trail, but I think it's by Andy Borowitz (the original has one extra "in other news" paragraph at the end), a slight reworking of what he posted for last year's SotU.] My favourite bit is the very last line.

Breaking News

Bush's State of the Union Address to be Simulcast in English
President Hopes to Reach Broader Audience, Aides Say

For the first time since he was elected president of the United States, George W. Bush's State of the Union address tonight will be simulcast in English, the White House confirmed.

With the public unenthusiastic about the president's plan to send a "surge" of troops to Baghdad, the decision to simulcast the speech in English was widely seen as an attempt by Mr. Bush to make an appeal to a broader audience.

"The majority of people in this country are English speaking, and quite frankly, we can't afford to ignore them any longer," White House spokesperson Tony Snow said. "Hopefully, by doing the English simulcast, we'll be reaching out to a lot of those folks."

Once the decision was made earlier in the month to launch the historic first English simulcast of a speech by President Bush, then began the hard work of translating the text of the address from Mr. Bush's language into English.

Davis Logsdon, a professor of linguistics at the University of Minnesota, was one of several scholars approached to do the translation who ultimately quit in frustration.

"The problem is that the language the president speaks, by most measures, is not a language at all," Professor Logsdon said.

In his speech, President Bush is expected to downplay setbacks in Iraq and will instead highlight the accomplishments of his six years in office, including his historic decision to cancel the agreement between nouns and verbs.

Also, a big thank you to [livejournal.com profile] ohiblather for my new icon! (And the conveniently-timed satire to forward means I don't have to lablel this a GIP ("gratuitous icon post"). Heh.)

dglenn: Lego-ish figure in blue dress, with beard and breasts, holding sword and electric guitar (lego-blue)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 08:59am on 2006-08-01 under ,

By way of a link from [livejournal.com profile] cortejo: "Goldihat and the Three Peers", by Maister Iago ab Adam. "Once upon a time there were three Peers: a Birdy Peer, a Shrubby Peer, and a Chivy Peer. One morning Shrubby Peer and Chivy Peer awoke to find that Birdy Peer had stayed up all night preparing an elaborate breakfast of porridge [...]" Enjoy. (May be a bit opaque to folks not at least passingly familiar with SCA culture.)

dglenn: Lego-ish figure in blue dress, with beard and breasts, holding sword and electric guitar (lego-blue)

I've spent the last few days at [livejournal.com profile] anniemal's, mostly not feeling very well. I feel better today than I did yesterday or the day before, which is a good sign. Today's curious (and migraine-suggesting) symptom is hearing echoes -- more "reverb" than "delay" -- where I'm pretty sure there aren't any. At least I don't think the acoustics of this house have changed radically in the last eighteen hours. more state-of-d'Glenn -- short version: I'm sick of being sick )

But enough of that. On to fun stuff.


Recently there have been reminders of something I did some time ago in different places. One friend posted a link to the Tuning Fork Dildo (just what it sounds like) and another pointed to the Audi-Oh (a "bullet" vibrator that takes an audio signal as input). So in both cases I was moved to recount fun things I've done, which I'm putting behind a cut-tag just in case any of you didn't want to know, not that <em>I</em> think it's shocking... )

... And the psychological effect of knowing that the top spanking them was just that silly. (Yeah, a teaser for folks who were thinking about skipping over the cut. :-P )

And there's a third thing floating around my friends list: a Yahoo copy of a Reuters story about a study showing that "professional artists and poets have about twice as many [sexual] partners as other people." To which my reaction was, "What, you ignored musicians? Or was that just too easy to bother with?" The article suggests that artistic success leads to having more partners, not the other way 'round or linking both to some third cause, but it's hard to tell whether the researchers had looked into causality yet or not. (I'm not the only one who wishes mainstream news articles that report on "a study" or "a report" would provide a link to the study or report in question, right?) The gist:

"Although creative people have long been associated with active sex lives, the researchers believe their study is the first to back it up with research. They found that professional artists and poets had between 4 and 10 sexual partners, while less creative people had an average of three. 'We found it in both the men and women which was quite a surprise to us,' said Nettle, who reported the finding in the journal 'The Proceedings of the Royal Society (B).'"
... to which I can only say that I find their surprise surprising.


And the talk of vibrators, coupled with yet another link ganked from my friendspage, reminds me of a vibrator I used to own ...

I used to drive a big ol' 1978 Pontiac Catalina (think: Bonneville with less chrome -- and note that for its day it was considered a mid-size, even though many of my friends insisted it was "huge" -- Pbbbbt!), and I used to give friends rides quite a lot of the time. And the car had a largeish trunk, so a lot of things that I hadn't gotten around to finding proper places to store, lived in the trunk for various lengths of time (including the big green canvas tent I use at Pennsic, which stayed in the car for about three years, I think). So one summer folks noticed that there was an ominous *Thump!* from the trunk sometimes when I went around corners, and would ask, "What was that?"

"Oh, that's my vibrator," I would reply. Which led to any of several variations on the "No, really, what is it?" theme. "Really, it's a vibrator. A big vibrator."

"That thump sounded awfully big. How big a vibrator is it?"

"A quarter horsepower," I would reply, honestly and with a straight face. Which usually resulted in some combination of shock, horror, and conviction that I was yanking their chain. "Really, it's a one-fourth horsepower vibrator."

"How ... big ... is that?"

"About three feet."

"I don't believe you."

"Want to see it? I'll pull over and open the trunk and you can have a look."

In all but two or three cases, the response to that was "No, thanks!". But what was the most fun was when one of the people brave enough to have looked on a previous trip (reaction: "Yup, that's a vibrator. Yup, that's about three feet long. You weren't kidding.") was in the car to interject, "It really is. I've seen it." This usually made the curious passenger extremely worried, for some reason.

I'm not sure how many actually believed me, but it really was a three-foot, quarter horsepower vibrator in the trunk of my car, making those thumping sounds as it shifted when I went around corners. Alas, my little brother decided to take it apart one day and was unable to put it back together. I'd had plans for that puppy.

Anyhow, this link reminded me of that. (Favourite line: "[...] now's your chance to freak out your local sex shop by asking them to recommend the best dildo for cognitive neuroscience experiments.") Actually, the first paragraph of the LJ entry where I saw the link was what reminded me, which will make the whole tale of the vibrator in the trunk make a lot more sense.

Of course, there were also the 30mm and 70mm shells that occasionally rolled out from under the front seat, and a practice hand grenade, to make passengers ask questions they weren't certain they wanted to hear the answers to, but that's another story. So is the frightened passenger saying, "No, really, I mean it. They're glowing!"

dglenn: My face, wearing black beret, with guitar neck in corner of frame (pw34)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 11:56pm on 2005-10-01 under ,

One thing about spending so much of my day in traffic (several times the amount of time I spent on stage) was that I saw a few cute bumper stickers:

  • Frodo Failed. Bush has the Ring.
  • red circle (well, oval) with a slash through it, over the letters GOP
  • A Closed Mind is a wonderful thing to lose.

dglenn: Me in kilt and poofy shirt, facing away, playing acoustic guitar behind head (Default)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 02:14pm on 2005-07-28 under ,

This just arrived in my mailbox:

Top Ten Reasons Dorothy was Greeted as a Liberator...and Bush Wasn't

by William Domingo

10. The Wicked Witch of the East actually HAD weapons of mass destruction.

9. Local contracts were awarded to the Lullaby League and the Lollipop Guild, not Halliburton.

8. Dorothy apologized for her misuse of the House's powers.

7. Evil oppressor legally verified as "really most sincerely dead" rather than "maybe dead."

6. Dorothy got it that she wasn't in Kansas any more.

5. Dorothy didn't take Toto with her just because he was Prime Minister.

4. Dorothy didn't jail Munchkins and make them blow each other for the cameras.

3. Dorothy had no interest in stealing the Munchkin's oil.

2. Dorothy wasn't taking orders from either the one with no brain or the one with no heart.

1. Dorothy didn't kill 100,000 civilian Munchkins, smirk, and then go on about her deep respect for life.

dglenn: Me in kilt and poofy shirt, facing away, playing acoustic guitar behind head (Default)
dglenn: Me in kilt and poofy shirt, facing away, playing acoustic guitar behind head (Default)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 12:06pm on 2005-06-21 under ,

Do dogs' tail-wagging muscles ever get tired?

I just had this mental image of a dog going, "Oh! Ow! Tail cramp!"

Or a dog telling another dog, "I was so happy when they got home that I smiled until my tail hurt."

dglenn: Me in kilt and poofy shirt, facing away, playing acoustic guitar behind head (Default)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 09:23am on 2005-06-13 under ,

I have news. I have deep[*] thoughts. I have witticisms. And I plan to get around to posting those later if I still remember them by the time I get around to sitting down and really writing. But on this morning, I present you with yet another eBay eNtertainment:

Someone is selling a roll of film they found with writing on the outside that says, "CINDY + LINDA 3/04". The seller says, "I found this in the basement of the student co-operative that I live in and naturally assume there are nude - girly pics just waiting to get developed - personally I wana keep the dream alive so I'm not processing it in case its something less exciting."

This reasoning amuses me, at least this morning.

[*] No guarantee of any particular depth implied, as thoughts may have settled during shipment[**].

[**] From Poughkeepsie, NY, by car, which relates to the "I have news" bit.

dglenn: Me in kilt and poofy shirt, facing away, playing acoustic guitar behind head (Default)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 05:25am on 2005-06-11 under ,

"Aphorisms are the last haven of the feeble-minded." -- [livejournal.com profile] charliegrrrl, 2005-05-21

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