Mar 29, 2004

A Funny Thing Happened To Me On The Way To School...

go here
Well, there you have it. As many of you have hoped for months, I've finally lost my mouth.

note: sorry, the link only works sometimes. just keep trying it; i'll put it up on angelfire whenver i get around to setting up my account. later.

Eat Less, Be Hungry

A recent report talked about a study entitled “Eat Less, Live Longer.” These seem to pop up everywhere, you know? “Exercise More, Live Longer”, or “Eat More Calories, Become More Caloric”, or perhaps “Eat More, Become Bigger”.

In any case, the study was on a group of mice that apparently hung around with an even age distribution until researchers picked them up for tests. The interesting part was that, quote: “Even older mice on restricted diets fare better in research.” According to Dr. Spindler, a 19-month-old mouse is equivalent to a 60 or 65-year-old human. This is roughly one mouse week per human year, and raises some important questions like:

1. Do mice have 40-week birthday parties with gag cards that say things like “It’s your birthday, so I wish you luck” on the outside, and then on the inside say “You’re 40 (weeks). You’re going to need it”?

2. Do old mice reminisce about when they were little, and they had to steal cheese by hand, and didn’t get any of “them fancy trap-snappin’ contraptions” that young mice are so completely corrupted by nowadays?

I think these are questions that need to be thought about by American citizens, simply because they kill so many less brain cells than some current music which seems to consist of one note played repeatedly on a torched cat strung on a guitar.

At the end, the article, of course, claims that aging may eventually be slowed down by taking a pill. I think all articles about medical advances say that nowadays.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go help my mice put on their dentures.

Mar 24, 2004

Weird, But True

It is a law in Singapore that:
"If you are convicted of littering three times, you will have to clean the streets on Sundays with a bib on saying, 'I am a litterer.' This will then be broadcasted on the local news."

The city of Gueleph, Ontario "is classified as a no-pee zone."

In Toronto, Ontario, "you can't drag a dead horse down Yonge Street on a Sunday."

"Residents are not allowed to have an Internet connection faster than 56k" in Uxbridge, Ontario.

In England "it is illegal to be drunk on Licensed Premises (in a pub or bar)", "any person found breaking a boiled egg at the sharp end will be sentenced to 24 hours in the village stocks", and of course "it is legal for a male to urinate in public, as long it is on the rear wheel of his motor vehicle and his right hand is on the vehicle."

Being more specific, in the city of Chester, "you can only shoot a Welsh person with a bow and arrow inside the city walls and after midnight", and in York, "excluding Sundays, it is perfectly legal to shoot a Scotsman with a bow and arrow."
Sounds kinda violent.

In Liverpool, "it is illegal for a woman to be topless in public except as a clerk in a tropical fish store."

Denmark: "One may not be charged for food at an inn unless that person, by his or her own opinion, is 'full'."

In South Dakota, "no horses are allowed into Fountain Inn unless they are wearing pants" and "it is illegal to lie down and fall asleep in a cheese factory."

Vermont law once said that "it is illegal to tie a giraffe to a telephone pole."

In the same token, in Florida "if an elephant is left tied to a parking meter, the parking fee has to be paid just as it would for a vehicle."

Also in Florida, the state constitution protects the rights of "freedom of speech, a trial by jury, and pregnant pigs to not be confined in cages" and "a women can be fined (only after death), for being electrocuted in a bath-tub because of using self-beautification utensils."

Louisiana: "It is illegal to rob a bank and then shoot at the bank teller with a water pistol."

Okay, that's all for today. Go to for more...well...dumb laws.

Mar 23, 2004

Tabletop Discussion

In the University of Texas, San Antonio I found a stone table outdoors with this message scrawled on it:

- “The one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person.”

Now, I was considering writing a serious column regarding the truth and falseness of this statement, and I would have too, had it not been followed by another statement, in different ink:

- “What if you love yourself?”

Then there was:

- “Narcissist?”


- “Good f***ing point.”

Needless to say, the idea of writing any sort of serious work concerning this flew out the window.

And it really is a good point.

Mar 17, 2004

The Return of the "10" List

10 ways to know if you’re a nerd:

1. Your room contains more CDs than pieces of paper.

2. You’ve thought about installing cooling fans in your skull.

3. You refer to your computer as ‘she’.

4. You know the difference between ‘internet’ and ‘intranet’.

5. Your graphing calculator has more programs on it than your teacher’s computer.

6. You find yourself trying to hit control+Z in real life situations.

7. Your graphics card has a name.

8. You passionately support either ATI or nVidia.

9. You know what ATI and nVidia are and do.

10. People frequently call you ‘nerd’. *wink*

(note: I can poke fun at nerds because I know I am one. For me it was #10.)

Mar 11, 2004

A Post on Posting

I’m feeling a need to write, so I thought I’d open up Word and just let my thoughts flow.

Ha ha ha. No, seriously, people are pressuring me to write something and post it. Therefore, because I’m a spineless wimp, I’m going to try and be funny on command. At present moment I’m on instant messenger, and I just asked someone for a topic to write about. Instead, now we’re talking about the chemistry test I took today. Fat lot of help they are.

So perhaps I can talk about the fact that some people update their online journal with every single little thing that they do. Here’s a sample:

- I’m not doing much. Just sitting here.
[posted @ 8:30:33]

- I’m still here. Now I’m scratching my head.
[posted @ 8:34:19]

- Hey, I just inhaled really deeply. Let’s see if I can do it again!
[posted @ 8:35:28]

- Wow! I did it again!
[posted @ 8:35:39]

…and so on. The only limit to how much detail they include is how fast they can click the buttons to update their journal. Someone was telling me that “it’s the little things that count”, but really, do we have to know all the little things? I’m just glad that these people don’t have laptops, or we might get way too much detail about their lives.

As long as I’m being spineless and giving in to demands, I might as well write something about missy_ly, who requested that I write something about her, though she didn’t know what. So, here goes. For some odd reason, her cell phone number was on my phone before we swapped numbers. There. Happy?

If someone asked me for all my money and clothes right now, they’d probably get them.

I still don’t have a decent topic. Now my friend and I are talking about solar flares of the sixteenth century. Not even remotely humorous.

Anyways, since my Coke’s almost done now, and I’m getting bored, I’ll leave you all with a question:

What’s a good question to end this column with?

Mar 3, 2004

Only 45 Pounds

This is an article on the about new technology for our troops. That’s right; the Army’s getting new weapons. And they are…you guessed it, high school assistant principals!

No, seriously, they are apparently noisemakers. Now when you first hear this, you think of those little plastic thingies that they give out for party favors that entertain you and your parents for several days (and by entertain, I mean annoy to the point of a preference for court hearings over toothpaste tube size regulations over being in the same room as that dratted noisemaker) until the battery runs out.

Of course, our Army isn’t getting that. It would be far too effective. Instead, they get a little device called a Long Range Acoustic Device, or LRAD for short. Well, maybe not little. It weighs 45 pounds, which could lead to odd scenarios if the soldiers are outfitted with just an LRAD:

SOLDIER: Don’t move or I’ll shoot!
INSURGENT: With what?
SOLDIER (TRYING TO HEFT LRAD): With this! Just…give me a second here…

But I’m sure no one would be that stupid, except perhaps Michael Jackson, whose music can melt brain tissue anyways. Which brings me to my next point: why invest money in a device that, I quote, “blasts earsplitting noise in a directed beam”, when we’ve already got them? In fact, every teenager has them, along with ample ammunition.

CD players, loaded with modern music, can disable anyone over thirty in just a few minutes. If they were equipped with a Michael Jackson CD, of course, they could drop anyone unconscious in a matter of seconds. Thank God that Michael Jackson music is, by federal law, illegal to broadcast without proper ear protection.

A SIDE NOTE: Another system that the government is testing is the Active Denial system, which seems as if it should work like this:

A terrorist is trying to enter a maximum security U.S. Army building, perhaps a kitchen.
ACTIVE DENIAL SYSTEM: Access Denied. Please use other door.
TERRORIST: (no response)
ACTIVE DENIAL SYSTEM: I said, Access Denied, you moron. Please leave or I will be forced to pipe Michael Jackson music directly into your brain.
TERRORIST: NOOOOOO!!!!!!! (runs)

Instead, the Active Denial System is, I quote, “a painful energy beam”. I suppose it’ll zap anyone who attacks it. You’ve got to wonder, though, the usefulness of this in other walks of life. Picture a courtroom…

JUDGE: Any objections?
ATTOURNY: Your Honor, my client was brutally hurt because his nail scratched his palm on account of a smaller toothpaste tube size. This is obviously an example of faulty manufacturing on the part of the huge toothpaste tube conglomorates, which want nothing more than to corrupt our youth and rule the- ZAP *thud*
JUDGE (HOLDING SMOKING ACTIVE DENIAL SYSTEM) : Any other objections, you chatterboxes?
COURTROOM: (silence)

I just hope the government keeps a close watch on its new toys. What’s to say some rebel faction doesn’t get hold of these devices and use them to quash anyone who’s discovered their plans and are writing about them in, say, an online column. What if…hey, what’s that noise? Oh no! They’re on to me! Tell the people! They have a right to know the tr- ZAP *thud*

The First "10" List!

10 ways to know if you play too many computer RPGs:

1. When you buy clothes, you check the tag for the armor bonus.

2. When you pass a test, you think you’ve gained a level and feel a need to distribute those hard-earned stat points.

3. You talk to random people just to see how much interactivity your life was programmed with.

4. You always overburden yourself with stuff because you thought that your inventory was bigger than it actually is.

5. You get annoyed when people don't "join your party" just because you asked them to.

6. Instead of asking your teacher if you can retake a test, you ask them if you can retry the quest.

7. Every time you do anything for anyone, you expect money as a quest reward.

8. You sign your name as “[deathclan]sLAy3R_299”.

9. You use the word “emoted” frequently in place of “did”.

10. Instead of saying to people that you’re tired, you claim that you don’t have enough mana.

Mar 1, 2004

A Night of Horror! (actually, I just didn't get much sleep)

NOTE: This was written sometime in January, after a particularly harrowing experience with someone’s science fair project. I added a note at the end about the aftermath.

It was around 11:00 p.m., and I'd finally finished all my homework. I climbed in bed, looking forward to a restful night, (followed by more hell the next day, of course, but that's a different story).

But it's a weird thing with me. The longer I just lie in bed, thinking, the more things I think of that I'm convinced can't wait until the morning. I have to completely wake myself up, turn on the lights and get my planner. Next is the usual frantic search for a pencil; I usually end up writing with a stunted piece of lead that's so short I can't even hold it.

Finally, having written whatever it was down, I get back in bed. Then I think of something else. In this case, the mandatory 2 liter Coke bottle for the Math & Science tournament that Saturday.

I resisted, I really did. I tried to tell myself that it could wait until the morning. Of course, it didn't work. Then the real trouble started. When I got out my planner again, I was looking at the dates and I knew that I had forgotten something.

Something about Friday…Grace’s Science Fair project! NOTE: Grace is not her real name, but I really don’t want Benita to hit me with her obscenely thick Stephen King book, so I’m changing her name for this column.

Muttering a steady stream of curses all the way, I stumbled down the dark hallway to the other room, where the CD player was. Actually, it's a boom box, and actually, it's quite heavy. I must have dented the walls three or four times on the return trip.

I fished out her science fair project packet from my backpack, ripped out the staples of the sealed packet, and dumped the contents out on the floor. The project involved having people (mostly those that Grace didn’t like) listen to vocabulary words every night for a few days in a row, and then when they woke up, take a test to find out how much they’ve learned.

Keep in mind that it was around 12:30 a.m. by this time.

I put the CD for the words into my CD player:
"This is a test to see if you can memorize vocabulary words in sleep…" and so on. Then it started with music. Loud music. Of course, in the middle of the night, everything is loud. But there was nothing else to do. I turned the volume down to the level where it was just barely audible, covered the green, glowing screen of the CD player with Grace’s tests, and went to sleep.

Or rather, I tried. When there's nothing going on but music, and you're trying to go to sleep: it's extremely hard. One thing was obvious. The music was still too loud. After about ten minutes it sounded like it was right in my ears, even though the CD player was across the room. I turned the volume down again, to the point that an extremely sensitive dog would have a hard time hearing it, and went back to bed.

The next thirty minutes (or so it seemed) had me wondering when the actual words were going to start. Maybe Grace had mixed up the CDs.

To make things worse, the music was not sleepy music. It was some sort of allegro, or something; it was fast. Scales going up and down tens of thousands of times, huge finales, dynamic contrast, it was all there. By now I was entertaining glorious visions of taking my bedside lamp and sending it flying in a perfect arc across the room to smash the CD player to bits.

I'm not sure how, but I finally managed to get to sleep. Or maybe it was more along the lines of losing consciousness.

Around 4 or 5, I think, I woke up again. It was still playing music. It had probably just gone around the CD a couple of times, but if listening to music had me lying awake, then listening to a person reading vocabulary words would be torture. I lurched out of bed, trailing sheets that were tangled around me, and lunged for the power button. The green screen faded, the red power light extinguished itself.

I went back to sleep. I had to catch up for all the rest I had missed. Of course, by then I only had about an hour before I had to wake up. I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do about this. I came up with many solutions to my problem while listening to the melodies of Mozart at 1 in the morning, starting with claiming that I had lost the CDs going through simply pretending I had listened to the CDs and just taking the tests anyways, all the way to setting one of those plug timers on my CD player and having it turn on in a couple of hours when I would probably be asleep. (By the way, the last didn't work because the CD player doesn't turn on automatically when it is plugged in or receives power.)

Wish me luck and sound sleep. I’m going to need it.

ADDED: I eventually decided to not listen to the CDs, but instead to fake the entire test. On a few of the answers, just to make it seem authentic, I purposefully messed up. Just don’t tell Grace. It’ll be hard to explain the blood and brain particles on her book when she has to return it to the library.