press conference of the century

Mooninite! Gee, I thought they were mostly Asian.Two Boston urban terror suspects, out on bail, give the press conference of the century, if not of the post-Biblical era. I think I’m in love!

Background from CNN:

CHARLESTOWN, Massachusetts (CNN) — Two men pleaded not guilty Thursday to charges they created panic by placing electronic light boards that caused a bomb scare Wednesday in Boston.

The boards depicted a cartoon character making an obscene gesture at passing motorists.

Assistant Attorney General John Grossman called the light boards “bomb-like” devices and said that if they had been explosive they could have damaged transportation infrastructure in the city.

Indeed, and if Ralph Lauren shirts had been explosive no doubt much of Harvard could have been destroyed. Something tells me that overripe cans of that damn chowder have caused more explosions in Boston than any Aqua Teen Hunger Force ad campaigns. Those easterners are so neurasthenic; ten cities had this ad campaign, and Boston was the only one to call out the SWAT teams on the poor, unsuspecting Lite Brite boards. Aqua Teen Hunger Force is the Bomb!

Now, to the press conference:

“I feel like you’re not taking this seriously. Now do we have ANY questions about hairstyles in the Seventies, because my patience is wearing thin.”

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the rise and fall of William J. Sidis OR What my parents did wrong

Story of MY life too

Well this explains a lot. Ever read someone else’s life story and know that, on some all-you-mortals-look-alike level you were really reading your own biography?

For those of you who don’t know as much about me as I do, I shall provide a brief recap:

  • was reading the Globe and Mail at four
  • used to get up early and watch University of the Air algebra and calculus classes before preschool
  • was nearly put into a school for the mentally retarded at six, because the teachers couldn’t figure out why I was so detached from their lessons on how to spell “cat”
  • at my mother’s insistence was given an IQ test, scoring 136 and sparing myself from a life of institutionalized intellectual lowballing
  • skipped most of primary school in favour of sitting in the library, reading encyclopedias. Got through four editions of the Encyclopedia Brittanica alone, lamenting the lower standards in each one
  • was once frogmarched out of the library to write a math test in Grade Four. Hadn’t attended class all year. Got 98%
  • have been vigorously and repeatedly thrown out of every institution of higher learning in the Lower Mainland including (but not limited to) Vancouver Community College Langara, VCC Kwantlen Richmond, VCC Kwantlen Surrey, University of British Columbia, Simon Fraser University, and although the Open Learning Institute is forbidden by charter to throw anyone out, they did write to me and ask if I’d consider giving it a rest
  • let’s just say I got a work ethic for my 30th birthday, not before.

Now, from the highly marvelous and damn interesting website Damn Interesting, comes this tale of shocking parallels. My parents weren’t New York intellectuals, it’s true, but they were both easily in the genius class and never tired of setting up new hoops for my brain to jump through. How many packs of flash cards they wore out on me only God knows.

In fairness, my mother once said, “Once I’d seen what I’d done with you, I decided to raise your sister differently.” Which may be why my sister has a BMW and a four bedroom house in Crystal Beach.

Now to our story:

The Sidises believed that aggressive curiosity was a quality to be nurtured, so Sarah gave up her career in medicine to dedicate her life to the child’s development. William‘s thirst for knowledge never went unquenched, and by his first birthday– an age when most children are still babbling– he was honing his spelling skills. At one and a half years of age, he was reading the daily newspaper.

As William approached his fifth birthday, his spectacular abilities began to draw the attention of the press. He had taught himself to operate the typewriter from his high chair, tapping out a letter to Macy‘s regarding an order for toys. He had also taken it upon himself to learn Latin, Greek, Russian, French, German, and Hebrew. His appetite for information seemed endless as he easily chewed through weighty tomes such as Gray’s Anatomy and the works of Homer. He entered grammar school at age six, but in just over half a year he had advanced into high school curriculum. His stunning accomplishments soon became a frequent feature on the first page of the New York Times.

However:

William did not live long after that; in the following July his landlady telephoned the police after discovering him unconscious in his Boston apartment. Forty-six year old Sidis had suffered a massive stroke, and he never again regained consciousness. Such was the end of the one-time prodigy who had astonished a Harvard math audience at age eleven; he died a reclusive, penniless office clerk.

Those who knew him in his later life spoke of his conspicuous brilliance and his mastery of over forty languages, but his tangible contributions to society seemed to be relatively few for someone of his talents. Some argue that his parents pushed him too hard in his youth– overexerting his exceptional mind at an early age– and some blame the press for driving him into isolation. There is considerable evidence that William favored the Okamakammesset tribal philosophy of “anonymous contribution”, a principle which implies that one’s value is not measured by one’s visible contributions to society.

Though he probably would not have put much stock in formal measures of intelligence, it is estimated that William Sidis‘s IQ was as high as 300, where 100 is average and over 140 is considered genius. Whatever the reason for his underwhelming output later in life, he was certainly one of the most profoundly gifted human beings who ever lived. There is no telling what William might have accomplished for mathematics and science if only his talents had not been squandered.

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just when you thought political satire was dead

Rush in Limbo 

That tireless champion of the overdog Rush Limbaugh has been nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize.


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Continue reading

IT LIVES! In your eyelashes!

Ickypoopoo.

I think I saw something like that once in a horror movie. Godzilla killed itThis delightful creature is a Demodex folliculorum, or demodicid and you are its preferred food. Don’t you feel special?

There are probably several hundred of them on you right this minute. That’s okay, go take a shower; the Internet will still be here when you get back.

Oh, and they lay their eggs in your eyelashes. Sweet, eh? But there is some good news:

The mite’s digestive system results in so little waste that the mite doesn’t even have an excretory opening. So although there may be mites in your eyelashes, there isn’t any mite poop! Thank goodness!

Oh yeah, now I feel a whole lot better. I wonder if it’s impractical to cover your entire face in those Bioré strips…I shall attempt it and report back. Also, guys, if your sales spike because of this link, kickbacks in the form of nose strips are gratefully accepted. Don’t suppose you’ve got any “Eyelash Strips” in the works, eh?

On the topic of these strips, I must say that the wee fuckers are quite addictive. There’s something primal about peeling them off and checking for scream-inducing plugs of nameless gunk that formerly resided in your face, now comprising a tiny little eggshell-coloured forest on the underside of this Germanic piece of engineering. Tis a lovely feeling, like picking a scab and watching it come away leaving behind an open wound and several sticky threads of mysterious, colourless and nameless gel. Yum!

But, however much we at the ol’ raincoaster blog adore aforesaid pore-raping strips, however much we hate abovementioned icky facecrawlers, and however tight with a buck we may also be, we would not go to the lengths these ladies have.

Unless we were really desperate, and when does that ever happen, eh? Don’t answer that.

WE AT THE OL’ RAINCOASTER BLOG ASSUME NO LIABILITY IF YOU GLUE YOUR FACE SHUT. AND WE WILL LAUGH AT YOU CRUELLY AND TAUNT YOU AND TELL YOU YOU LOOK LIKE IVANA TRUMP, REALLY WE WILL.

Who’d have thought?

Elmer’s glue works just as well as Biore strips. Have you ever slathered the glue on your hands and watched it dry and then peeled it off? Spread a little glue on your acne-prone area and let it dry. Then, peel it off. It will “grab” every little particle of dirt and lift it away.
Stephanie

Another Elmer’s Glue Proponent

This substitute peel-off mask idea comes from Looking Good Newsletter.

You know those strips you can buy to remove blackheads and dirt from your face? Yep, they’re not cheap. There is another way to achieve the same results and at a cost of pennies, or less. It’s Elmer’s Glue. You heard me, good old fashioned Elmer’s Glue that most of us grew up using for one thing or another.

Apply a layer of glue on your face, concentrating on the nose area if that is a problem area for you. Let it dry completely and peel off as you would with a peel-off mask. Rinse what residue doesn’t come off when peeling. Feel your skin. Pretty nice, huh? Follow with a toner if you like.

Elmer’s Glue disclaimer: When using Elmer’s Glue as a beauty treatment, one should make sure they are not allergic to the product. While I don’t know the statistics of “Elmer’s Glue allergy,” there is a chance that someone, somewhere, is allergic to the stuff. Also, I would like to add that when applying glue to your face, it is not advisable to apply glue anywhere near the eyes to prevent the possibly hazardous “Glued Eye Syndrome.” Likewise for the mouth area.
A

Oh, I can think of a few people I wouldn’t mind giving a “Mouth strip facial” to.

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Lord Krishna and the Milkmaids

From the Archive
                  Wednesday, January 07, 2004

Krishna and the milkmaids

I read The Life of Pi recently, and loved it, but one story in particular has struck me. It just perfectly parallels one of the ongoing Inet dramas around. So here is the story.

                  Lord Krishna was a little bored with hanging out his usual haunts, being godlike, so he brainstormed and thought now what would be really, really different from being a god? I KNOW!
                  Being a cowherd! and indeed, it is hard to disagree, so being Krishna and all, he just went ahead and turned himself into a cowherd. Nowadays I’m sure he’d just go into a chat room and try to be cowherd like, but that was back then, okay?

                  So the god Krishna was a cowherd. Bully for him. Now, there wasn’t much to do as a cowherd. Watch the cows, sure, but you would not believe how fast that gets tired. And back then they had no honky-tonk bars. So what did Krishna do? Well Krishna, like many gods, has a sharp eye for a curvy mortal. What do cows have in terms of support staff, other than cowherds? They have milkmaids, my dear. And these were some good-looking milkmaids, too. And horny. And Krishna was like WooHoo!!! PARTY!!!

                  Every night he would sign on…I mean go out to the woods and dance with the milkmaids. He was a god, there was enough of him to go around. His abundance was such that there was enough of him to dance with all the milkmaids at once, and they were happy and Krishna was having a blast. This state of affairs continued for quite some time, and Krishna was by far the most popular cowherd around, rumours about his background notwithstanding, I think it was the dancing that made him so popular. But then, one night as the dance reached its height each girl felt, in her heart of hearts, as if he were dancing with her and her alone.

     At that moment, he vanished forever.

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