MisterNihil.com
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31.10.02Once upon a time, a little ball of wax decided it didn't like its lot in life, and so went off to seek its fortune. What it didn't know was that a huge, hungry wax-eating monster was at large, roaming across the countryside. The little ball of wax shaped itself into a handsome man, as handsome as a man made of wax could be, and set off to make his way in the world. The first person he met was a cruel and clever candle-maker. Are you still paying attention? The candle-maker was all out of wax, and so when a fellow made of it came along the road, the candle-maker was overjoyed. He said to the waxballman that he was willing to make a bet. Balls of wax, as we all know, are inveterate gamblers, and so he took the challenge. The candle-maker offered that if the waxballman could recite the alphabet backwards three times, and faster than the candle-maker, a lovely prize would be given him in the form of a lovely wax candle woman. If the waxballman couldn't do it, then the candle-maker would steal his legs. This seemed fair to the waxballman who, as I said and as we all know, couldn't refuse a bet. So the waxballman started off with zyxwvuts... and so on. The candle-maker said 'the alphabet backwards the alphabet backwards the alphabet backwards,' and quick as a wink he stole the waxballman's legs. He felt a little bad, and thought about giving the waxballman the waxcandlewoman, but as he stood there gloating and thinking, the wax-eating monster came up and ate them both, for you see the candle-maker was actually also made of wax! Don't ask. If you don't know, it won't hurt you. And look! No whole other ball of wax pun! Posted at 1:09 AM Look! Silliness! Posted at 12:48 AM Great day in the morning. I am so there. Posted at 12:39 AM - - - - - - - 29.10.02Just for the record, I hate horses. I know, sometimes if you are brought up around something you learn to love it. I have never had a problem eating vegetables, as we always had them fresh, often eaten within an hour of their being pulled out of the ground. However, my first memory of a vegetable does not involve being thrown off of a broccoli and hitting my head on a horse. Among my first horse memories, though, is a pony kicking me off, and my hitting my head on a stump. Perhaps if I had more fond memories of eating fresh horses... Posted at 3:41 PM Honest, I swear I'll write out that dreamstory as soon as I get a chance. Time. Who knew? Posted at 2:47 PM Hot Damn. My archive's back up. (I was playing with the settings, and it was only archiving from last Christmas until 9/14, as I had reset the archive but stupidly forgot to tell it to republish the posts, so there was a gap from the 14th of last month to the 27th of this month. I'd hate to deprive y'all. I've switched to a monthly archive, as there were too many weeks worth of links as I approach a year of posts) Posted at 9:19 AM Well, yeah, but I forgot why, which is just as important as what sometimes. Posted at 9:18 AM Survived. I think my posts archive is behind for a moment as I switch from a weekly to a monthly, although I may switch back. I dunno. Posted at 9:16 AM - - - - - - - 28.10.02I either had a dream last night, or I remembered very vividly a story I got from somewhere. I hate that feeling. Either a story sprung full-formed from my head or I'm stealing it from somewhere else. So I'll try to write it down and see what happens. Oh yeah, and Toshi didn't have to sub for the scary kids who make subs cry, so that's good. Posted at 5:04 PM Didja ever have a day where you just couldn't be nice? I mean, I'm trying to do nice stuff, but every nice effort seems to turn into Evil. I need to go home and go to bed and start over. Only 9 more hours of this... Posted at 12:45 PM Is it ironic to yell "CALM THE FUCK DOWN" as you pummel somebody? Is that appropriate workplace behavior? Shouldn't I be doing something productive? Posted at 10:54 AM - - - - - - - 27.10.02Made Hot Honey Habanero Hice Cream tonight. Sweetened condensed milk, a little skim milk, and honey, mixed up. Then I took a paper towel and crushed a home-grown pepper a little (so the juice would come out) and put it in a tea-ball and soaked the mix for 20 minutes. Then I chilled it and, as they say, "followed the directions of my ice cream freezer." Good stuff. It tastes like ice cream, but then it burns the back of the throat. All good, all in all. Posted at 8:54 PM Um... RallyMonkey. This is a phenomenon of which I was unaware, but I have to say, I approve. Posted at 7:34 AM - - - - - - - 25.10.02I had a meeting today with Thursty the Elephant. I'll admit that at the very first, I was scared to meet this performer, but as with all things in life, a little information served to mitigate my temerity. The CD is, beyond all else, a quality piece of merchandise. It is well-produced, fun and with an unerringly professional sound quality. The message is a worn one, but one that never loses its importance: Read, practice math and learn All the Time, or you will be wasting this life in this society. OK, that's not quite how he says it, but it's the heart of the message. The track "Get Your Spell On" is amusing and engrossing, the best combination you could hope for when dealing with children. "Pay Attention" is about being aware of your surroungdings, and of yourself within them. He never says Obey Your Parents, he says Pay Attention to them, which is an infinitely superior piece of advice, in my opinion. So I was a little worried that he wouldn't be what a performer who puts out a quality piece of art absolutely has to be, if you know what I mean. I was afraid he'd turn out not to be clever and quick and lovable and bouncy, that the strait R&B sound of the CD (did I mention that any given song on the disc would sound as at home on pop radio as they would on PBS?) was produced by an R&B artist who was only in it for the money. But no, it was a great meeting. Thurston is a quietly serious man, who takes the music seriously as a tool to educate. The money didn't seem to concern him over-much, and the whole process was really enjoyable. It's a quality collection of music with a real message, produced by a decent person. Yay my job! Posted at 4:03 PM THING! Part of the blurb from the catalog: "With his knack for making cutting-edge science effortlessly accessable, world-renowned physicist Paul Davies now tackles an issue that has boggled minds for centuries: Is time travel possible? The answer, insists Davies, is deinitely yes - once you iron out a few kinks in teh space-time continuum." NIFTY! Although, I should mention it doesn't actually come out until 3/25/03. Posted at 10:09 AM - - - - - - - 24.10.02Eye Fur Gott Wut eye whaz ganna reit. Posted at 12:00 PM - - - - - - - 23.10.02Brian King never emails me any more. It's not his fault, as I never email him any more either, but I've lost all his email info. And most of mine. When that vengeful MoZilla, a fine search engine, left my machine, it took the email information with it. Aaah, sad. Posted at 10:46 AM - - - - - - - 22.10.02Freak. Hail. Storm. Posted at 1:24 AM - - - - - - - 21.10.02Sew, like, I was at the Mall? Yesterday? and I like, Vewted, or semthing? And, like, It was kewl? Because I like participated? in the Democatic Process? Er semthing. Posted at 5:26 PM - - - - - - - 18.10.02Congrats to Bro Angelbob. Posted at 10:29 PM Lamenting Pecans Putting his key in the lock, he bounded to the door of his apartment and opened the door. This stretched his arm to the limit, and he had to let go of the key in the lock of the outside door. It slammed shut, and he was locked into the foyer, his keys on the outside of the building. This was where he stood dripping for several seconds, looking from the outside door to the apartment door, feeling stupid. He needed the flashlight on the table just inside the door. He could feel it just inside, on the other side of the wall. It had a heavy aura, and he knew it was there. If things could taunt, it would be. And there he stood, looking from one door to the other, wanting a flashlight. Usually, the landlord or other neighbor would come in soon, hand him Jim his keys, and say "So, Sam, locked out again." Nobody in the building knew his name, but they all knew he was often locked in the foyer, staring at the door of his apartment. The building had two foyer doors. He lived in the apartment that opened between the two; the landlord lived across the entryway from him. It was a large apartment, really too large for the housing demand in the city, but it remained stubbornly open and full, despite the rapidly deteriorating state of the neighboring buildings. This apartment building gave the feeling of being solid, sturdy and immobile. No economic downturn could close it; no crazy housing requirements could keep people from living in it (and they almost had, in the 20's, when the then-owner had replaced all of the pipes). It didn't move, and now neither did he. There he stood, dripping, looking at the doors. He was really tired of being locked out, but he still, even after having it happen almost every week, sometimes twice a week, had no idea how it happened. He went over the process again in his head. The keys are on the outside of the door. If the door closes, it locks immediately. His apartment keys are... where? He checked his pockets looking for them. Aaah. Outside on the key ring in the door. He'd put them there the last time this had happened so he'd remember to take them out of the lock, so he wouldn't be locked in again. And yet, here he stood, dripping. The light rain outside seemed to pick up. It had seemed a blessing when it started. The grass had started to die and the rain was a relief. It meant a cold front moving through and a break from the heat. A light chill passed across his back as the air conditioning kicked on. When the cold air hit the mist of rain on the back of his neck the hair stood up. He looked again at the keys in the door, wishing he'd needed something further into the apartment. The plan had been to hold the outside the door open, unlock the apartment and grab the flashlight. Simple enough. In his momentary panic at finding the keys not in his pocket, his foot slipped off the outside door and the door closed. That's what had passed for a security system in the first half of the century. Two sets of doors that locked as soon as they were closed. None of his neighbors had come through yet. That wasn't uncommon some weekends. Once he'd stood here overnight waiting for aid. He banged on the outside door in the odd hope of flagging down a person passing on the street. Three people passed by, blissfully unaware and rushing, newspapers or umbrellas over their heads. The rain caught most of the city unaware, but the occasional clairvoyant type had thought of an umbrella. He supposed they might also just have had a late start in the day and grabbed an umbrella upon seeing the rain outside. On the other hand, few of them seemed to need a flashlight. He couldn't remember now why he had. Something about... Oh yes. He'd dropped his glasses into a storm drain. When he'd looked in, he thought he'd seen them, but he couldn't be sure. As he was only a half block from his home, he went in a hurry to grab the flashlignt. Which put him here. Dripping on the floor, looking at his keys, thinking of the flashlight inside his apartment. So, there. Posted at 9:44 PM I just saw a commercial that said "Kiss your Laugh Lines Goodbye." Can you imagine this generation of old people without laugh lines? It's just wrong. You're supposed to get wrinkles & lines as you age. Yeesh. Humans. Posted at 3:14 PM Jonathan Franzen. Yuck. I just wish it were easier to find actual, direct quotes from the guy, rather than all this opinion. I heard somebody at the store reading remarks he made about the creepiness of people who shop and work in independent bookstores, and I was curious to find more information. Most of what I can find, though, is the whole Oprah fight thing. Posted at 3:15 AM Oh, yeah, and it's legal as "Fair Use" since I'm not trading with anybody. I'm re-recording them as mix-tapes for my personal use. I'm still gonna buy CDs. It's not like I'm just taking stuff from online, as I understand about loss of profit, yadda yadda yadda whatever. Yes, yes, poor Metalica, poor Eminem. Point is, I'm doing this not to "rip anybody off," but for portability on my computer. Sorry. Broadcasting degree coming through again. Posted at 2:51 AM I had an odd moment. I'm switching over to a different media. Last time I did that, I had to get new movies, previously on tape, and switch over to DVD. I didn't duplicate movies where that was possible or necessary, and I didn't get rid of the VCR, but I switched media. It involved buying a lot of new stuff and the extended expenditure of money. I had to buy new stuff and I have now, more or less, committed to spending more money in the future. The new media switch is the opposite. I got WiMP on my new computer. It will burn CDs to my computer, so with a little time, I'll have all my music transferred over to the new media form. It cost me nothing beyond the cost of the computer, and it will continue to cost me nothing. Every time I buy a CD, I can burn it to my computer and have it in a portable form. It strikes me that this simple fact is probably why the MP3 format encounters resistance. Huh. Now I just need an MP3 player in the car. Hoohah, speaking of costing nothing... Posted at 2:45 AM - - - - - - - 17.10.02I saw "Scooby Doo" the movie and "Big Trouble." They score roughly a 552milinova and a 380milinova, respectively. It's not anything in particular, but I think the base material for "Big Trouble" was far superior to "Scooby Doo," and I think the move adaptation of "Big Trouble" is much closer to the original material. I like the old Scooby Doo cartoons, and the Scooby Doo Mysteries, and the Scooby Doo Movies and stuff, but how many times can it be old man Smithers/Dithers in a mask, and how many times can they be flying with helium balloons tied to their asses? Most crooks, you'd think, would just steal the money/jewels/whatever outright or, get this, use a little finesse and just keep the smuggling/robbery/whatever quiet, and save a bundle on the costume deposit, 'cause you know after Scooby Doo wears the mask and drools in it you won't get the deposit back. OK, enough Doo rant. Point is: Scooby Doo 552mn Big Trouble 380mn I guess it helps too that I lived in Miami for two years, and I know what he's talking about. I know the "TITS" guy, and I dislike him as much as Dave Barry does. Posted at 2:41 AM I just keep having those days, and not in the bad way, either. Life couldn't be better, I think. I mean, I'm alive, I've got a job. It's all good. Or, what I'm saying is, I don't see right now how life could be better. I need to shut up now before I jinx it. Posted at 2:35 AM - - - - - - - 11.10.02Rabid Wet Inspiration is one of those phrases that sounds dirty, but I can't for the life of me make it mean much of anything. Posted at 1:14 PM I think that, what with time being what it is and all, I actually dislike the person I talked about on the second less than I did when I actually had to deal with her. I got the free samples she sent us in the mail back to her (say that one over again in your head: free samples she sent us. Back to her.) on the proverbial slow boat to China. I believe the term the USPS is using now is "Media Class" because 4th class sounds too slow. I'm just sad there isn't anything slower than that. Grr. IF YOU'RE GOING TO BE THAT WAY! YOU'RE RUINING MY LIFE! AAAARRRRGH! Actually, the "RUINING MY LIFE" thing was somebody else. We got her books to her. Time, Time Time, says Tom Waits, and he's right. Posted at 1:11 PM Man, I can't wait for Halloween here this year. I'm so happy I get to be part of this great thing that is BookPeople. Posted at 1:05 PM I found a neat thing. Not really. She found me, and wants us to carry her books. She'll be sending them along any time now. With any luck, they'll be on the shelves by a week from today. Keen, I say. Posted at 1:00 PM - - - - - - - 3.10.02This snippet of rerun brought to you by the weather in Texas. Unpredictable. Never the same twice. Or not. And can you believe this weather? I mean Damn! I thought I lived in Texas. Not that I'm complaining... Posted at 10:09 AM - - - - - - - 2.10.02I've met another, so now I think this: I've got the explosive tendancies in my temper, so I daresay I can be a relaxation guru. The new ones, whom I also will not mention by name, seemed OK until it came to business, when the woman turned suddenly into a maudlin creepybitch. Grrrr. I mean, IF YOU'RE GOING TO BE THAT WAY! That's what I meant. Grrrr. Posted at 8:20 PM Maybe don't follow this one at work. It's, um, rrt, not exactly in the bad way, just in the way where you'll wanna follow all the links and it'll swallow your productivity. Um. You want Fries with that? Posted at 12:07 PM A new ad for Dr. Pepper Red Fusion (do a search. Find this page) claims (the ad isn't on the page, though) that the new drink is not for the little tastebuds in the front of the mouth, doing what they're supposed to. It's for the ones in the back of the tongue, "getting all the glory." So, even ignoring old-school tongue mapping theory, what is that supposed to mean? The truth is, the taste receptors at the back of the tongue are a little more sensitive to salt than sugar. So, is it less sweet? I don't get it. Could it mean that you're not supposed to taste it, just chug and let it run down your gullet? Sounds more likely. Hmmm. I got my Dell. I'm waiting for more peripherals to come in the mail, but they're realy just gravy. Backup battery (which actually goes in the machine, not in the bag. I thought back-up battery = heavy thing you have to remember the location of. I didn't think it just meant Left Battery Bay. Neat.) and leather palm rests. Niftiness. Posted at 8:33 AM - - - - - - - 1.10.02I read the funnies today. All I'm saying about that is hot damn. I mean, that's a hell of a strip. The link above is for whatever-is-today's-strip, so when it changes tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow you can still see a new one. Having read the strip in the past, I'll bet you won't be disappointed by what comes up, but I'll link here when it hits the archive. Posted at 10:15 AM - - - - - - - | All material copyright 2002-2003 Ben Gibbs. | |||||||||
