We have now learned that the absolure WORST place to stand when a meteor hurtles across the sky is in front of a window. Of the hundreds of injuries suffered yesterday in Chelyabinsk, Russia, the vast majority consisted of cuts suffered when shockwaves from an exploding meteor shattered windows across the region.
So, y'know, if you're at work, and someone says, "Hey, Dude, there is a freakin' FIREBALL shooting across the sky!" you must under no circumstances go and check out the coolest thing you're likely ever to see in your life!
Like that's going to happen!
You realize of course what this means: METEORS ARE TRYING TO KILL US! They're like those spectacularly beautiful plants that lure insects into their maws by being all pretty and shit. They're basically the lanternfish of the cosmos.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Pistorius Off
The other day, star South African athlete Oscar Pistorius shot and killed his girlfriend, Reeva Steenkamp. Born without fibulas, Pistorius inspired his nation and the world, as he ascended to the highest levels of sport, competing in the Olympics and Paralympics on prosthetic limbs. He claims that the shooting of Steenkamp was a tragic mistake: that he thought she was an intruder breaking into his home. That's his defense. You believe him? Personally, I don't think he has a leg to stand on.
Oh, like you weren't thinking it!
(And before you condemn me, may I point out that MOS's initial comment was, "I don't think his defense has legs." So you see where I get it from.)
Oh, like you weren't thinking it!
(And before you condemn me, may I point out that MOS's initial comment was, "I don't think his defense has legs." So you see where I get it from.)
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Evil Designs?
On this Valentine's Day, I send much love to disgraced fashion designer--is there any other kind?--John Galliano. It's been about two years since a drunken Galliano offended sensibilities and Parisian law with a drunken rant in which he claimed, "I love Hitler." Really not such an outrageous comment from a fashionista: Hitler was a total bastard, but the man knew how to dress. Nevertheless, Galliano was summarily fired from his position at the House of Dior and became persona non grata in the rarefied would of haute couture, about which I care so little. Galliano has apologized for his comments--sincerely, according to Abraham Foxman, the head of the Anti-Defamation League--and is now attempting a comeback.
More power to him. Frankly, I don't necessarily think he should have been fired in the first place. If he is such a genius as people claim, what difference do his personal anti-Semitic feelings make to his ability to make purty dresses. If his dresses are, in fact, purty.
Personally, I think she looks like one of the X-men attending a charity ball, but I'll take other people's word for it.
I don't condone his remarks. He claims to have been so drunk that he has no memory of his offensive rant. Then again, in vino veritas--which is Latin for "I call bullshit." But the point is, who cares? He's not a politician; he's not a military leader; he's not even a writer of trenchant political commentary: He's a tailor. Or, if you prefer, an artiste. Find him offensive? Don't listen to him. Don't want to enrich him? Don't buy his clothes. And if you must boycott John Galliano, don't boycott him because of his offensive remarks; boycott him because he dresses like the lovechild of Slash and Liberace.
Designer, heal thyself.
More power to him. Frankly, I don't necessarily think he should have been fired in the first place. If he is such a genius as people claim, what difference do his personal anti-Semitic feelings make to his ability to make purty dresses. If his dresses are, in fact, purty.
Personally, I think she looks like one of the X-men attending a charity ball, but I'll take other people's word for it.
I don't condone his remarks. He claims to have been so drunk that he has no memory of his offensive rant. Then again, in vino veritas--which is Latin for "I call bullshit." But the point is, who cares? He's not a politician; he's not a military leader; he's not even a writer of trenchant political commentary: He's a tailor. Or, if you prefer, an artiste. Find him offensive? Don't listen to him. Don't want to enrich him? Don't buy his clothes. And if you must boycott John Galliano, don't boycott him because of his offensive remarks; boycott him because he dresses like the lovechild of Slash and Liberace.
Designer, heal thyself.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Deep Philosophical Ponderations
"You know what I've been thinking about lately? If I had the opportunity either to give up the need for food or the need for sleep, which would I choose? It's an interesting survey question, no? I mean, these are two physical necessities that consume a great deal of one's time. Imagine how much more productive one could be if one didn't have to interrupt one's activities periodically to eat--to say nothing of sleeping, which, if done according to the advice of experts, takes up about a third of one's life! We'd all be better off, in a sense, if we did not have to eat and/or sleep. At the same time, though, people undeniably derive pleasure from these activities: A fine meal, a peaceful nap on a lazy summer afternoon--these are true luxuries, and it could be argued that the enjoyment of such pleasures comprises part of what it is to be human. Of course, if one were able to forego either eating or sleeping, then one would, in fact, be something OTHER than human--at least as we all understand the term.
"So, getting back to the original question: Which would you rather give up, assuming you could give one up. If you were told that your stomach would never again rumble in hunger, or that you would never again feel weariness overtake you. You could save all the money you currently spend on food. You could make productive use of the time you now spend asleep--reading the books you've always wanted to read, writing the novel you've never had the time to compose.
"I think, for me, I would give up the need to eat. I've never gotten a true sensual thrill from the gastronomic arts. Oh, certainly, I've had some delicious meals, but, on the whole, I am truly one of those who eats to live rather than who lives to eat. If I never had to satisfy my hunger, I would not feel I was missing much. Sleep, on the other hand, is one of my great pleasures. Curling up under a blanket on a chilly, rainy morning. Enjoying the strange worlds that populate my dreams. I would be loath to give all that up. And I think--in the case of sleep--I WOULD be giving it up. After all, a person can still eat even if he does not NEED to do so--I think, in fact, most people do this on a regular basis: eat when they are not especially hungry, but merely out of a sense of ritual or schedule. Sleep on the other hand, would seem to be impossible if one does not need to do it. Have you ever tried to sleep when you are just not tired? Not easy, is it?
"So, on the whole, while either option provides the possibility of a much more efficient and productive life, I would certainly forego the need for food, if given the choice, before I gave up the embrace of Morpheus."
"Um. . . That's great, Sir, but I just asked if you wanted fries with your burger."
"So, getting back to the original question: Which would you rather give up, assuming you could give one up. If you were told that your stomach would never again rumble in hunger, or that you would never again feel weariness overtake you. You could save all the money you currently spend on food. You could make productive use of the time you now spend asleep--reading the books you've always wanted to read, writing the novel you've never had the time to compose.
"I think, for me, I would give up the need to eat. I've never gotten a true sensual thrill from the gastronomic arts. Oh, certainly, I've had some delicious meals, but, on the whole, I am truly one of those who eats to live rather than who lives to eat. If I never had to satisfy my hunger, I would not feel I was missing much. Sleep, on the other hand, is one of my great pleasures. Curling up under a blanket on a chilly, rainy morning. Enjoying the strange worlds that populate my dreams. I would be loath to give all that up. And I think--in the case of sleep--I WOULD be giving it up. After all, a person can still eat even if he does not NEED to do so--I think, in fact, most people do this on a regular basis: eat when they are not especially hungry, but merely out of a sense of ritual or schedule. Sleep on the other hand, would seem to be impossible if one does not need to do it. Have you ever tried to sleep when you are just not tired? Not easy, is it?
"So, on the whole, while either option provides the possibility of a much more efficient and productive life, I would certainly forego the need for food, if given the choice, before I gave up the embrace of Morpheus."
"Um. . . That's great, Sir, but I just asked if you wanted fries with your burger."
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Tuesday Miscellany
Well, the ballots for Teacher of the Year are out, and let me say: It's an honor just to be nominated, which I wasn't, so fuck you all! I'll see you in hell. Solipsist out!
Monday, February 11, 2013
Office Judo
Over the last few days, I've been distracted by work issues. Relatively minor issues, to be sure, which I think is part of the problem. When a true crisis hits, one can devote all one's energy to the problem at hand, knowing that full concentration is necessary and will likely lead to a solution. Conversely, petty problems suck one's energy out of all proportion to the underlying difficulty--at least to the person who considers the problem petty. To someone else, of course, the stakes may be immeasurably higher. But then the first person--the one being called upon to address the problem--must expend excess energy in not only trying to solve the problem but also in trying to figure out why the problem looms so large in this other person's worldview.
Vague, I know, but I have no desire to complicate matters further by being more specific. God knows that no one reads this blog and thus it is unlikely to be read by any of the principals involved in my occupational angst, but it would be just my luck. . . .
I was talking to my dean today. She has also found herself on the hot seat of late, essentially because she did something that, as a dean, she is supposed to do. Her problems arose because somebody took something the wrong way or felt something should have been handled differently. (This, incidentally, is basically the same trouble I'm dealing with.)
The basic annoyance stems from a feeling of injustice: I don't mind if people get mad at me for NOT doing my job; I take exceptional umbrage, though, when people get mad at me for DOING my job--particularly when, in one way or another, the people who are getting mad are not, in point of fact, doing their jobs. Then again, that's probably why they're getting upset in the first place.
Nobody likes to have their own deficiencies pointed out to them. Of course, when given such criticism, people have a choice: They can listen and acknowledge or they can deny, defend, and attempt to shift blame--middle-management judo, I think that is. I have no real interest in sparring, but what choice do I have. If someone tries to flip me, I will do my best not to be flipped.
It does make for rather exhausting days, though.
Vague, I know, but I have no desire to complicate matters further by being more specific. God knows that no one reads this blog and thus it is unlikely to be read by any of the principals involved in my occupational angst, but it would be just my luck. . . .
I was talking to my dean today. She has also found herself on the hot seat of late, essentially because she did something that, as a dean, she is supposed to do. Her problems arose because somebody took something the wrong way or felt something should have been handled differently. (This, incidentally, is basically the same trouble I'm dealing with.)
The basic annoyance stems from a feeling of injustice: I don't mind if people get mad at me for NOT doing my job; I take exceptional umbrage, though, when people get mad at me for DOING my job--particularly when, in one way or another, the people who are getting mad are not, in point of fact, doing their jobs. Then again, that's probably why they're getting upset in the first place.
Nobody likes to have their own deficiencies pointed out to them. Of course, when given such criticism, people have a choice: They can listen and acknowledge or they can deny, defend, and attempt to shift blame--middle-management judo, I think that is. I have no real interest in sparring, but what choice do I have. If someone tries to flip me, I will do my best not to be flipped.
It does make for rather exhausting days, though.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
I'll Work When I'm Dead
Why is the pleasure derived from napping inversely proportional to the opportunity to nap? O, Irony! Cruel mistress! Callous lover! Friend without benefits! How you do rear your fearsome head!
Today's "Duh" report reveals that well-rested workers--those who get enough sleep, have the opportunity to nap, and take longer vacations--are productive workers. In other news, pandas are considered "adorable" by more than 60% of adult females.
Maybe that explains why my students fall asleep in class: They're trying to increase their productivity!
Personally, I love napping, but it always takes me a good hour or so to wake up fully from one. And that's no matter how long the nap is. Maybe I'm not doing it right.
Of course, if vacations and sleep make people more productive, then shouldn't the most productive people on the planet be the retired? Or, y'know, the dead?
Today's "Duh" report reveals that well-rested workers--those who get enough sleep, have the opportunity to nap, and take longer vacations--are productive workers. In other news, pandas are considered "adorable" by more than 60% of adult females.
Maybe that explains why my students fall asleep in class: They're trying to increase their productivity!
Personally, I love napping, but it always takes me a good hour or so to wake up fully from one. And that's no matter how long the nap is. Maybe I'm not doing it right.
Of course, if vacations and sleep make people more productive, then shouldn't the most productive people on the planet be the retired? Or, y'know, the dead?
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