Moo, boo…what’s the diff?
Phew! I thought there wouldn’t be a post tonight…stupid blog’s been down for an hour.
These things? They’re usually painted to look vaguely like cows. Really lumpy, ugly-ass cows. They’re in Milton Keynes, North of London, and they’re made of cement and fiberglass and…I dunno…bits of junk and FAIL.
A vandal did this to them. A wonderful, magical vandal.
The locals liked the paint job so much, they’re going to leave it this way. At least through Hallowe’en.
October 15, 2012 — 11:33 pm
Comments: 13
Give ’em hell, Paul
Heh. I probably shouldn’t have gone with this. I don’t actually expect Ryan to slaughter Biden. Joe is, no kidding, a pretty decent debater. When he pays attention and keeps his shit together, he can pull off a damn good genial and statesman-like imposture.
And Ryan could come off as an abrasive smartass. Worst case, it might look like cocky puppy versus wise silver fox.
Well. Let’s hope for better. It’ll be in the wee hours my time, so I won’t know until morning. (Ah, I see Ace is managing expectations).
Remember — here. Tomorrow. Six of the clock Weasel Blog Time.
Dead Pool Round 39!!!
October 11, 2012 — 9:55 pm
Comments: 19
But my husband doesn’t even know I’m the Dovahkiin
Yes, yes…that’s a giant humanoid lizard in banded leather gauntlets shoveling a snowberry crostata into a brick oven. And why not?
The folks who brought us the wildly popular game Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim decided their nice little game of dragon-slaying, zombie-stomping, vampire-staking and empire-conquering really needed to be…a little more like real life. Their latest add-on fixes that.
Now you can buy property, build a house, get married and have kids. You think I jest?
New Objectives and Interactions – Guard your home from unwanted visitors like marauding kidnappers, armed bandits, and skeever infestations. Turn almost any follower into your personal steward to improve and protect your home. Or if you require more help, hire a personal bard or carriage driver to ease the burdens of home ownership.
Adoption – Transform your house into a home with Hearthfire’s all-new adoption system. Adopt children and discover new ways to interact with your family. Play games with the kids, allow them to have pets and gain new bonuses from having a family.
Oh, doesn’t that sound like a little slice of Hades? One minute, I’m in Markarth repeatedly beating an apostate priest to death with a rusty mace while a Daedric prince repeatedly resurrects him, and the next, I’m all, like, “hi, Honey — I’m home!” It’s like Second Life with horned helmets and beheadings.
Well, for £3.49 ($4.99 American) I might just have to buy it so I can abuse my kids.
Steve pinky swears he didn’t break Steve’s Rule — he picked Alex Karras fair and square while they were both still breathing. Dang it, I just put his third dick in the mail. I’m’onna have to come up with some kind of virtual dick for this guy; he’s killing me for postage. Yes, friends, Steve has now won his fourth dick. Congratulation, Steve. STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM STEVE.
Meet you back here Friday, 6WBT, for Round 39!
October 10, 2012 — 9:29 pm
Comments: 17
Big Bird for president!
If you want President Big Bird big and in color, you can have President Big Bird big and in color.
October 9, 2012 — 3:58 pm
Comments: 18
WooooOOOOoooo…!
Good article in this month’s Smithsonian magazine (full article online) on the Great New England Vampire Panic.
In the Nineteenth Century, rural folk around Southern Rhode Island and nearby Connecticut got it in their heads that TB outbreaks were actually vampire attacks. Which, when you think about it, must have made a certain twisted sense: one by one, people inexplicably sickened, wasted away and died. What did a farmer know of bacilli?
Many, unknown, maybe hundreds of people were dug up and mutilated all over that area of New England. Many of the corpses were in suspiciously good shape, thanks no doubt to the cold.
I took a little pilgrimage to Mercy Brown’s grave in Exeter, RI when I lived nearby. She was the last to get The Treatment. They dug her up, cut out her heart, burned it on a nearby rock and fed the ashes to her ailing brother (who died).
Here’s the thing: this was in 1892, a stone’s throw from fancy pants Newport and a whisker from the 20th Century. Her father, who didn’t believe a word of this vampire shit but felt pressured by his neighbors, lived until 1922. America was really, really embarrassed by the whole business.
Mercy’s grave was in an ordinary little stone in an ordinary little rural cemetery in the middle of nowhere. The only sign it might be something were the little coins and candles and bits of tat around the stone. (Same as H.P. Lovecraft’s, on the other side of the state. But not Lizzie Borden’s, for some reason).
If you like that sort of thing, the article is well worth a read.
Damn. I should have saved this for Hallowe’en, shouldn’t I?
October 8, 2012 — 10:25 pm
Comments: 15
Something thoughtful for the weekend
I’ve posted about Richard Johnson before — like, five years ago. He’s a National Post (of Canada) illustrator who, in the tradition of the war artists of old, has embedded himself with Canadian troops in Afghanistan to…well, draw pictures of stuff. He’s good.
About six weeks ago, he emailed to say he was going back (not me personally; I’m on his mailing list) and I keep forgetting to post. So here, for the weekend, is a link to his Kandahar Journal in the Post. Also, his own website. If you’re of a Twittering frame of mind, you can follow him thusly: @newsillustrator.
Something a little more worthy to think about for a while. Good weekend, folks!
October 5, 2012 — 10:16 pm
Comments: 17
I haven’t quite got it
Trying to nail down The Smirk. You know, if I’m not careful, JUST when I finally nail down my Obama caricature, I’m not going to need it any more.
WOOOHOOO!
October 4, 2012 — 10:00 pm
Comments: 16
The seriousness they deserve
I know, I know. It’s the most important election of our lifetimes. You know what? Every single election of my adult life has been described (in all seriousness) as The Most Important Election of Our Lifetimes.
And it’s always true. And about half the time we win TMIEoOL, and about half the time we lose it, and society lumbers on.
Don’t mean to sound cynical, but do you know we’re about the only country in the Anglosphere without a tradition of joke parties? (Well, we did have the Cool Moose Party in Rhode Island. Go Rhody!).
At a minimum, joke parties thumb their noses at the main parties, who take themselves entirely too seriously. At best, they win a few seats and are able to wreak a little much-needed havoc on The System. I know, I know…third parties throw elections to the other guys. But sometimes I think…has the GOP really been a worthy custodian of our loyalties?
You’ve probably heard of the Official Monster Raving Loony Party (pictured) in the UK. There are scores of others, though…some with a serious point, others not so much.
There’s the Church of the Militant Elvis Party, which is a sort of anti-Tesco’s supermarket party. The Citizens for Undead Rights & Equality (CURE) is the largest Zombie rights organization in the world (launched as a publicity stunt for the video game series Dead Rising in 2010. They fielded four candidates and got three hundred something votes). There’s New Millenium Bean Party, run by an orange guy on the platform of letting children choose their parents and making tattoos bilingual. Then there was the I Want to Drop a Blancmange Down Terry Wogan’s Y-Fronts Party, which was…well…it’s a sort of a pudding and he’s a sort of a radio personality.
Oh, and they have ’em in New Zealand (hullo, Oceania!) and Europe and even Iceland. Turns out, there’s even a Lemon Party in Canada! They have vowed to restructure Canada’s economy to be centred on lemon production, support global warming so lemons can be grown in Canada, abolish Toronto and repeal the law of gravity. No relation to that other thing — if you wish to sleep soundly in your bed tonight, for the love of sweet baby Jesus, do not Google “lemon party.”
Oh, well. Maybe the next election won’t be The Most Important Election of Our Lifetimes, for once, and we can treat politics with the seriousness it deserves.
As if.
October 2, 2012 — 10:06 pm
Comments: 26
Don’t kick that pickle, lady!
Whatever. No, I don’t know, either. I stole the picture from Anorak because I pretty much got nothing.
I’ve spent the evening getting my father Skype’d up. Or, anyway, the iPad equivalent of Skype, Tango.
He’ll be 86 soon and he’s newly unleashed on the internet. He had a laptop for ages, but he kept getting it snarled up and finally gave up on it. He can just about grok the iPad.
So today I rummaged around in the back room and found my old webcam (so old there isn’t a Windows 7 driver for it), downloaded this piece of videophone ‘ware and gave him a call.
He was stonked. It was like ten minutes of, “I can see you! Can you see me? I can see me! Can you see me? I’m down in a little block in the left corner and you’re all over the screen! It rang just like a real phone. I heard it and everything! I can see you! And you’re in England!”
Which was funny and sweet. And then he rang off, “this is great! We can watch opera together and I can teach you to play the harmonica and everything!”
So, there’s that.
October 1, 2012 — 9:54 pm
Comments: 18
WOW! That’s a lot of plaster nipples…
Okay, last one from that last country fair. Most of the fêtes and fairs we go to have an organ-playing automaton or two, but this thing was in a class by itself. This is the 115 Key Verbeek Centenerary Organ, though I gather from YouTube chatter the naked figures are perhaps new…?
Anyhoo, it was big and loud. And, however it is they program these things these days they’re still making them. While we stood there, this one played Somebody That I Used to Know.
My dad had a fascination with pipe organs and music boxes. I remember him sitting at the kitchen table with an X-Acto slicing little rectangular holes in a player piano roll to make it play that creepy old hymn, How Tedious and Tasteless the Hours. Is it any wonder I grew up to be a serial killer?
Wait…I didn’t say that out loud, did I?
Turn up, turn up, turn up — tomorrow, 6pm WBT. Dead Pool Round Thirty Eight. Don’t miss your chance for prize dick!
September 27, 2012 — 10:26 pm
Comments: 4