Category: Stuff

Shower-thought about WALL-E

I was today years old when I figured out that WALL-E (2008) is just a re-telling of the movie Idiocracy (2006).

Don’t take this the wrong way.  I like both movies.  However, the parallels I see off the top of my head:

  • The world is a mess, literally and figuratively;
  • People are obsessed with low-grade entertainment and let their minds (and, in the case of WALL-E, their bodies) fall apart, while machines and automation have kept society from collapsing
  • Nobody knows how to get plants to grow;
  • Someone from the past holds the key to saving the world

There are probably more, this is all going from memory while I was in the shower this morning.

Fitness Update

I used to think I was fit when I walked a 15 minute mile. I was huffing and puffing, but I was proud that I did it.

Today, I averaged a sub-13 minute mile today and wasn’t even breathing hard.13:22 minute mileI’m posting today not because that time was a particular achievement, but because it was so unremarkable.  The achievement is that I can do it so reasonably.

Rune Sore Bees

Megh and I quote this story at each other from time to time about ordering breakfast at a foreign hotel.  It originally came to us via email in the early days of Eternal September.

We riffed on it in front of a friend tonight.  This friend did not know the story, and after giving the short-short-short story on it I figured I’d see if I could find it online.

Apparently it was written by Shelley Berman¹, not a random unknown person, and forwarded via email endlessly without permission or attribution.

I’m going to redistribute it again, but this time with attribution.

(Reading hints: You are on the phone. The other party is also in the hotel.)

Morny, rune sore-bees.

Oh sorry, I thought I dialed room service.

Rye. Rune sore-bees. Morny. Jewish to odor sunteen?

Yes, order something. This is room thirteen-oh-five. I want…

Okay, torino-fie. Yes plea?

I’d like some bacon and eggs.

Ow July then?

What?

Aches. Ow July then? Pry, boy, pooch…?

Oh, the eggs! How do I like them? Sorry. Scrambled, please.

Ow July thee baycome? Crease?

Crisp will be fine.

Okay. An Santos?

What?

Santos. July Santos?

Uh…I don’t know…I don’t think so.

No? Judo one toes?

Look. I really feel bad about this, but I just don’t know what judo-one-toes means. I’m sorry…

Toes! Toes! Why Jew Don Juan toes? Ow bow eenlish mopping we bother?

English muffin! I’ve got it! You were saying toast! Fine. An English muffin will be fine.

We bother?

No. Just put the bother on the side.

Wad?

I’m sorry. I meant butter. Butter on the side.

Copy?

I feel terrible about this but…

Copy. Copy, tea, mill…

Coffee!! Yes, coffee please. And that’s all.

One Minnie. Ass rune torino-fie, strangle-aches, crease baycome, tossy eenlish mopping we bother honey sigh, and copy. Rye?

Whatever you say.

Okay. Tenjewberrymud.

You’re welcome.

Shelley Berman, A Hotel is a Place, Price Stern Sloan, 1972.

When I first received the story, it was supposed to have originated somewhere in Asia but the accent and (mis)pronunciation always seemed to be Spanish to me.  (so maybe Philippines?)

¹ My first encounter with Mr. Berman was “The Sex Life Of The Primate (And Other Bits Of Gossip)” from my parent’s collection of vinyl.  I was 12 or 13 and much of the humor went over my head – but not all of it.

Reddit Post I Can’t Stop Thinking About

If the devil can’t make you bad, he’ll make you busy.

Busy people don’t have time to care about other shit. As important as it may be to protect your country from apathy, from corruption, from fascism, it’s not something that’s directly in front of you so it’s not something you have time to worry about.

The propaganda about working hard (to keep single people busy), about getting married and having kids, about having a good work ethic, against work-life balance, all designed to keep you as busy as possible. Companies abuse childless people because “oh, well he has kids so he has to leave early… we need this done today”.

The government keeps you busy with paying taxes, renewing drivers licenses, passports, license plates, car inspections, code violations that you have to get fixed, tiny minimum wages that force you to take 2-3 jobs.

People with spare time have time to look at what’s going on around them… they have time to organize and fight for what they want. They have time to start their own businesses instead of being wage slaves for the rich. They have time to fight big issues when they come up. This is undesirable behavior. A big uprising, which is probably coming anyway, is the last thing the elite want.

So they keep you busy, and in control. They look at history and see all of the times when this failed but they think “Yeah, but people in the past were stupid… we can make it work this time”. And they push more and more and more, until everyone gets pushed too far. But first comes being busy.

— aint_exactly_plan_a

The Crux of the Matter

“The unborn” are a convenient group of people to advocate for. They never make demands of you; they are morally uncomplicated, unlike the incarcerated, addicted, or the chronically poor; they don’t resent your condescension or complain that you are not politically correct; unlike widows, they don’t ask you to question patriarchy; unlike orphans, they don’t need money, education, or childcare; unlike aliens, they don’t bring all that racial, cultural, and religious baggage that you dislike; they allow you to feel good about yourself without any work at creating or maintaining relationships; and when they are born, you can forget about them, because they cease to be unborn. You can love the unborn and advocate for them without substantially challenging your own wealth, power, or privilege, without re-imagining social structures, apologizing, or making reparations to anyone. They are, in short, the perfect people to love if you want to claim you love Jesus, but actually dislike people who breathe. Prisoners? Immigrants? The sick? The poor? Widows? Orphans? All the groups that are specifically mentioned in the Bible? They all get thrown under the bus for the unborn.

– Methodist Pastor David Barnhart

In which I go off on a wild tare

So, we have this bay window right? And its big, and pretty, and has a decent amount of room for a display in it. That decent amount of room is usually covered in all kinds of detritus of the house. It leaks cold air like a sieve. You can feel it flowing over your hand like a liquid if you put your hands on the bottom.

Not today. Not any longer. I did a thing. I took everything out of it. The Terrarium. The random horse statue. The weirdly healthy african violet. All re-homed (some of it needs to be permanently re-homed, but I’ll get there).

Once I had it clear, I cut several pieces of 3/4 inch foam insulation to fit in it and covered the shelf.

 

Then I had to trim it to make it look pretty.

Once it was (almost) completely covered, I hit my stash. A couple years ago I made a quilted circle skirt. I had a fair amount of the cotton batting left over that I should have thrown out years ago. I used that to cover the foam insulation and make it look like snow. Its cotton with no glitter in it so we don’t have to worry about microplastics. I used scraps to fill in the gaps that I couldn’t get into with the foam core.

My ability to throw things out has taken a huge hit, but hey. It looks amazing.

Once it was covered, I broke out the lasercut village display Michele gave us years ago. It is really pretty and I love it. I hung two strings of LED lights around it, and added our window candles. It looks so cheery and light!

I sent pictures to Michele. Hopefully she likes them.

I can’t feel cold air pouring out of the windows anymore, so hopefully that is all set, too. It would be nice to not have to plastic the window this year.