Food Stuff

Many of you may have seen this, but I like this article. It's not pedantic, and yet stills punctures some of the sanctimony of vegans, which I always enjoy.

Although it doesn't bring up the most import fact about meat, i.e. that it is delicious.

Lastly, here's a pic of Bob Ross. I got to use my Anderson Varejao wig (12-13-2006 NEVER FORGET) for it.

costumes!

So lets hear it...whats everyone being for halloween?

oh arnie

i think this is too good to be a coincidence.

John Cleese's Birthday

Here is a recent interview with him from the AV Club and here are some silly walks.

The Larry's Sign

http://www.thelantern.com/campus/one-of-a-kind-collection-of-memorabilia-celebrates-the-university-district-1.830056

Is this how I do this Deepak?

hi guys!

Cosmos Remix

Why did I not know of this...

I've only seen two episodes of this so far...but they were funny. Apparently this web-show, Children's Hospital by Rob Corodry and a bunch of other funny people got picked up by adult swim...hooray!

WARNING: it starts to auto-play an ad (with audio) once you go to the site...so be prepared for that

It is here, dorkbots

New york 039

New york 039
Originally uploaded by martin.menninger

tom

tom
Originally uploaded by martin.menninger

I post secret pictures of you people.

talk about time wasting

So I was sitting in the computer lab wasting time when the guy sitting next to me started laughing. I asked what was so funny and this is what he was looking at. I'm not sure if this is fair use or not so I'm going to say that I took this from geekologie.com and they can probably sue me for doing this but the joke's on them because I don't have any money:

Wait, Whaaaaat?: Large Hardron Collider Trying To Destroy Itself From The Future

According to a couple nutjobs that I'm actually starting to believe, the Large Hadron Collider is actually destroying itself FROM THE FUTURE to prevent the discovery of the Higgs boson particle. Whoa.

According to the Times, two physicists posit that the reason that the Large Hadron Collider (and, previously, its unbuilt American counterpart) keeps running into problems isn't bad luck or shoddy workmanship. It's that the LHC's quest to discover the Higgs boson--a heretofore only theorized particle that scientists believe is what gives objects mass--is creating problems to keep itself from being discovered:

"A pair of otherwise distinguished physicists have suggested that the hypothesized Higgs boson, which physicists hope to produce with the collider, might be so abhorrent to nature that its creation would ripple backward through time and stop the collider before it could make one, like a time traveler who goes back in time to kill his grandfather."

I didn't even think about that. But now that I do, it makes perfect sense. And by perfect sense I mean none at all. Unlessssss the LHC is actually a giant T-1000! Then we're back to making perfect sense. I think. I dunno man, I smoked weed for breakfast.

-from Geekologie.com

I mean, how awesome is that?

Mike Koucky

Weird Animal

Here is a cool little story about a strange little critter.

Also, we should all try to start reading our blog book Rats fairly soon.

Timewasting

Hello all,

Its been a while (sung in that Creed-like-Nickelback-whatever-the-fuck voice). So first off...I'm arriving in Columbus tomorrow (Thursday) between 8 and 10pm. I'm either staying for Friday night or not...I still have to decide.

Second off..if people like wasting time I would recommend cruciverb. I've probably already told many of you about it, but basically it posts the daily crosswords from nytimes, LAtimes, yahoo etc. To do the puzzles posted there you need acrosslite (its a small program..to get it click on "software" under "resources" on the left side of the page). I've cut back on my crossword intake this school year (apparently, i'm trying to be a better student or something lame like that), but if you guys like crosswords, this is the place to be.

third off...mike suggested that i post my google reader subscriptions on here so heres a list of ones i think are good:

yahoo tennis: http://sports.yahoo.com/ten/rss.xml
yahoo cavs: http://sports.yahoo.com/nba/teams/cle/rss.xml
itsfuckingdistracting: http://itsfuckingdistracting.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default
pats blog: http://gentlemanrake.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default
aziz ansari: http://azizisbored.tumblr.com/rss
bob and david: http://www.bobanddavid.com/atom.xml
all songs considered: http://www.npr.org/rss/rss.php?id=37
today's big thing: http://www.todaysbigthing.com/rss/newest
todays big thing (entertainment): http://entertainment.todaysbigthing.com/rss/newest
xkcd: http://xkcd.com/rss.xml

also some math blogs and stuff. theres this site called arxiv where people post math preprints and i can get updates on all the combinatorics ones. (im sure there are corresponding sites for linguistics, library science, whatever you like to nerd out to)

Fourth off...In fifteen minutes or so..its Marys birthday!...so happy birthday yo...see you soon!

Forget you troubles, come one get happy.

What to do with dead people. PS: presidential pets!

While listening to/reading this story about being buried by burying beetles, I ended up at the website for Obit Magazine, an online magazine about dying. They have an advice column, which I assumed was meant to offer condolences and/or coping advice to people in mourning, called Ask Judy:

Dear Judy,

I'm writing from the Midwest. We have a local politician, a friend of the family, who upped and died. I won't say what his title was, but he was pretty important in our city.

He was also, and I know this for a fact, a child-molester. Or really a teen-molester. I used to babysit for his two kids, and I happen to know.

Everyone acts like the worst tragedy in the world just happened. I say Justice has been done. Can I tell people about it now? I never have before, for reasons having to do with fear, his importance in our city, and the fact that nobody would believe me even if I did.

Caroline

Judy-the-soother-of-grievances' advice:

I am probably alone in the world in believing that being dead is no excuse. You don't get to have your sins wiped clean just because you stopped breathing! And I also have nothing against trashing the dead, except to their relatives and spouses. If the dead pol was a creep, so be it.

Somehow in the same sitting I was also directed to the presidential pet museum. James Buchanan had a pet herd of elephants -- imagine if Sasha and Malia had one of those!! Also, what do you think it means that Ronald Reagan's dog Lucky had "natural ears"?

please take a moment to appreciate this painting
and to scroll over it for an explanation of the symbolism
of each individual component

http://www.mcnaughtonart.com/artwork/view_zoom/?artpiece_id=353

Intellectually stimulating content

Not sure who showed this to me, maybe Ryan Branch, but here's a silly video. It expresses my fondness for all of you.

Hello Onion Goodbye work i need to do this afternoon

New Anti-Smoking Ads Warn Teens 'It's Gay To Smoke'

Blog Book Club Suggestions

What if we read/blog about Rats by Robert Sullivan?

Speaking of music.....

I wrote a short story today. I'm not sure if posting it is allowed under the rules of this blog, but screw the rules. Be as harsh or praiseful (is that a word) as possible, as I need to find the right drug for a 9 year old to be taking that's both semi-believable as well as shocking to school administrators. Also, the kid may need to be older:

"Things you call fate"

Charles Wilson was a boring man. And he prided himself on this facet of his character. Above all the scholastic achievements, local public figures, and administrative awards that came and went during Wilson's 36 year tenure as principal of Sheldon Brown Elementary School, was his ability to keep things subdued. Before today, exactly three incidents occurred under his watch: a small fire stemming from microwaved tin foil in the teacher's lounge, a moldy fish sticks outbreak that permanently soiled the school's 23rd annual fun run, and a perpetually drunk band teacher, whose antics culminated in a boozy tumble offstage during the spring ice cream social. All of those incidents resonated with Chester Wilson, but when he received word that one of his students was caught with drugs, he practically bounced from of his chair.

Sven Larson, the Icelandic-American boy in question, lay quietly on his back in the nurse's office. He took out a hand-rolled cigarette and lit the tip. Drawing a long puff, he stared inquisitively into space before hacking violently. He then unzipped his backpack, removed a ukulele, and began to strum a collection of chords. Mrs. Watts, the school nurse, watched in fear from the corner of the room.

Back in the principal's office, Wilson heard a knock on the door. Shelly Moore, a young-looking guidance counselor stepped into the room. She wore a blue five-button sweater over a collared shirt, and had her hair tied back in a short pony tail. Her eyes were a bit red, and the liner that once surrounded them was now smeared across the cuff of her shirt.

"Sven's parents are here", she said , her voice cracking. Wilson, hands on hips, looked at her, and motioned for them to come inside. She turned to leave, but paused. Spinning back ,she looked at her boss and sighed. "I didn't think we had this type of thing going on in our community." Wilson frowned, and looked up at her. "I know it's a shock, but we have to deal with this. You signed on for the good and the bad." Shelly nodded, and exited silently. The Larson parents entered the office, and began to scan its contents, taking in the wall of diplomas, outdated carpet, and large oak desk. Mrs Larson clutched a rectangular purse like it was a liferaft, while Mr. Larson had an arm wrapped around her shoulder. A tattoo peeked out from under Mr. Larson's sleeve, and extended out on his neck from under his collar.

"I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances" Wilson said, extending his hand. He pulled up a few chairs and formed a ring in front of his desk.

"What exactly is this about?" Mr. Larson asked, sitting down. "Ms. Moore didn't specify over the phone."

Wilson rubbed his mouth and eyed the couple. "Your son was caught with drugs today at school."

The Larsons didn't answer, or even modify their reactions. "Some time after leaving his music lesson, we found him stumbling wildly through the halls", he continued. "Ms. Moore pulled him aside and questioned Sven, who admitted that he was high on LSD."

"LSD?" Mrs. Larson repeated.

Wilson looked down. "I'm afraid so."

Mrs. Larson looked toward her husband and sighed deeply. "What a relief"

Wilson looked up sharply. "What's that?" he asked.

"I know" said Mr. Larson, before turning to Wilson. "I was supremely worried for a moment back there."

"This is a big deal." Wilson said, uncrossing his legs and elevating his voice. "Drugs are terrible, especially on a developing mind."

A knock appeared at the door, and it opened to reveal Mrs. Watts ushering Sven in with one hand. The moment he crossed the threshold, she slammed the door with the speed and urgency of a hazmat worker quarantining an outbreak. Wilson eyed the boy for a moment, before pointing him into a chair between Wilson and Mr. Larson. Mr. Wilson then turned to him, eyeing him up and down. The boy was smartly dressed in slim jeans, with a sport coat and vest concealing a white buttoned down shirt. He had a multicolored scarf around his neck, despite the visible steam rising from the school radiators.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself, young man?" Wilson asked, condescendingly.

"About the LSD?" Sven asked, uncertainly.

Wilson rubbed his temples. Half-moons of sweat appeared under his arms. "Yes, about the LSD! You're in a world of trouble bringing drugs into this school!"

"Why?" Sven asked. There wasn't a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Because you're not supposed to take drugs on school property, honey" Mrs. Wilson said softly.

"Oh" Sven said, and turned to the principal. "I'm deeply sorry for breaking your rule Mr. Wilson. I understand that you have rules established for a reason, and maybe not every student is as ready to expand their mind as I am. In the future I'll be sure to trip out on my own time."

Wilson felt his head expanding like a balloon. He could no longer tell if anyone was speaking the same language anymore.

"Mr. Wilson" Mr. Larson interjected. "Sven is a very talented musician. He can sing in four languages, compose elaborate songs, and play six instruments. Surely you know this already."

Wilson thought about the boy's silky voice, and how he repeatedly bested the school music teacher, Mrs. Spiro, at the piano during last year's ice cream social. He then remembered how much money was raised by Sven's acoustic guitar performance a week before in the first annual "Dare To Stave Off Lupus" pancake breakfast, an event created solely because the school lacked an autumn fundraiser to showcase the boy's talents. But what did Sven's musical ability have to do with anything? He wasn't sure. But drugs are bad. He knew this for certain.

"I won't deny that Sven has an ear for music, but he was caught on drugs. He'll likely face criminal charges for this."

"He's only nine. They don't have the guts to prosecute someone that young." Mrs. Larson sneered, as she played with her beaded necklace.

"Honey" Mr. Larson said, resting a hand on her shoulder. she looked at him and smiled generously. Mr. Larson then turned to Wilson and raised his eyebrows. "Mr. Wilson, we want our son to be the best. And if drugs help him get to a higher place, than we'd be terrible parents to not enourage this behavior"

"But there hasn't been anyone this young caught doing drugs in our town's history!" Mr. Wilson said with a confident tone.

Mr. Larson rolled his eyes. "Well Sven is one in a million, so I'm afraid your concerns extend well past the county line as well."

"Think about all the best bands" Sven said after a moment. "The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Queen, The Doors, Nick Drake, Nirvana." Their best tracks came to them when they were cracked out of their minds. I can't be the best if I'm spending a lifetime putting out mediocre tracks."

Mr. Wilson paused. He recognized most of the bands that Sven had just mentioned. "Consider this, Sven. None of those bands lasted for more than 10 years before they broke up, usually due to drug abuse. And if you're taking LSD today, you'll be smoking marijuana tomorrow, and something worse after that.

"I tried smoking marijuana and it didn't work." Sven chimed in. "All that happened was I got dizzy. Then a couple of passing teachers caught me and made me sell the rest to them."

Sven paused and watched silently as Wilson's eye began to twitch. He looked back at his parents whose eyes had grown to the size of saucer plates.

After it looked like Mr. Wilson had regained control of his twitching eye, Sven continued in a more serious tone. "Music is my life. I've got three albums recorded and ready to release. And if I want to keep from peaking, I have to keep topping myself. I have to keep experimenting, and improving, even if it kills me." He looked at his parents, who were losing their efforts to maintain smiles. After a moment, they both looked very sad.

"But think about Jimi Hendrix, Wilson said desperately. He became big and was dead less than five years later."

"And Hendrix is a rock god." Sven added. He never had a chance to make that shitty new wave album that sunk his career."

"Sven!" His mother yelled. "Language!"

"I'm sorry", he said, forlornly. "But the LSD helped me see cool things. I figure I've got at least an album of new material ready to go now."

"Good work" his father said proudly, and the two exchanged a proud nod. Sven then drew a cigarette from his pocket and patted his pockets for a lighter. Sven's father snatched the cigarette from his mouth and crumbled it into the trash can.

Wilson bit his lip and put his hands behind his head. His methods weren't resonating with these people. He thought about calling social services, followed immediately by the police. He thought about the prospect of this nutty family spending the next decade of holidays behind a storm of court dates, straight jackets and thick walls of plastic. Then he thought of the headlines: "Drug usage skyrockets under the nose of hapless principal" and "School official resigns under cloud of incompetance." Maybe there was another way. And then it hit him.

"How do you know that he's peaked?" Wilson asked after a moment.

The Larson family looked up. "Excuse me?" Mrs. Larson asked.

Wilson shifted his eyes between the boy and his parents. He had at least captured their attention.

"You said yourself that Sven is gifted. Who's to say that he doesn't have another nine years left in him?"

Sven raised an eyebrow and formed a half-moon with his left eyelid. "What musician or band was innovative for 18 straight years?"

Mr. Wilson grinned and paused to gather every inch of music knowledge his brain could reach for. "David Bowie, Nina Simone, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Rolling Stones, Aerosmith, Prince and James Brown."

The Larson family took Wilson's list into suggestion, and nodded in agreement.

"I guess you're right" Sven relented. "Although Aerosmith sucks, and the Rolling Stones look like zombies from the Thriller video."

"Yes, but they were real people at one point, honey. Mr. Wilson is right", said his father.

Wilson stood up and clapped his hands. "Well then, I'm going to cut this meeting off while I'm ahead. Sven, are all the drugs gone now?"

Sven nodded.

"And none of the other students know anything about this?"

"No" Sven said, lowering his voice. "I'm a lone wolf doomed to walk this earth in solitude."

"Ok then", Wilson said interrupting him. "We're going to have to suspend you for a couple of days, but as long as you can hold off on the intentional drug overdoses until you've graduated, I think we can try and look the other way on your behavior for now."

"Yes sir" Sven nodded with his head down.

As Wilson said goodbye to the Larson family, Shelly entered the office with a glass in her hand and an angry look on her face. "No expulsion? No drug overdoses allowed until after graduation? I'm not sure that you solved anything at all."

Wilson looked over to her and sighed. "We just bought nine years for that boy. In my book, I'd call that a win." Shelly shrugged and exited the office. Wilson closed the door, sat down behind his desk, and closed his eyes. A smile appeared on his face as he listened to the sweet vanilla sound of silence.

Commune

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/01/garden/01collective.html?_r=1&8dpc