Who cares if you can't understand them; they're hot! A fan-made recreation of The Two Towers, from a group of twentysomething Spaniards.
Who cares if you can't understand them; they're hot! A fan-made recreation of The Two Towers, from a group of twentysomething Spaniards.
Here's an interesting post from BoingBoing.
It seems the Canadian Census, that genius organization which employed me for part of last year until they decided to change the terms of employment mid-stream (if I could afford a car, would I be working for you for $12 an hour sweetheart?) allows you to fill out your census forms online.
Using only American software.
Actually, given that it's the Federal Guvmint, we're lucky they didn't insist we print out PDF's, scan them, and send in Bitmaps. Shhhhhhhhhh, don't tell them; they might think it's not too late…
Statistics Canadian [sic]– a Federal agency — is conducting a national census that Canadians can participate in via the Web, but only if they use Microsoft's Internet Explorer or Apple's Safari. Free and open browsers like Firefox are explicitly excluded. There's two jaw-dropping elements to this story: one, that the Canadian government requires Canadians to use American software to complete the national census; and two, that they require all kinds of high-tech crapola to fill in a survey
All hail our Yank overlords.
I wouldn't trust myself to review this book. Like the Necronomicon, this is a book best read by those you really wouldn't miss if it came right down to it. If you heard they'd become members of a sinister cult and had taken off to Arabia to rendezvous with a malevolent and unspeakably long-lived nobleman from Eastern Europe, to search for the Nameless City in the shifting sands of the desert, and you really wouldn't mind, then that's the person you should ask to review this book.
Because that means reading it. And that means the thetans will know you're out there. To say nothing of Tom Cruise.
Dianetics, Reviewed by Fat Joe Thomas, whom I do not know and so wouldn't particularly miss and who seems to have vanished from the blogosphere on or about April 4,
THE VERY DAY AFTER POSTING THIS REVIEW!
Half-way through this book, I wanted to stop reading. But, it wouldn’t let me. It made me finish. I couldn’t return it and get my money back and I couldn’t stop reading it. If I ever have kids, the book is going to make my kids read it. The book has put my family and friends under surveillance. They don’t want to talk to me anymore. They’re worried the book will take their money, too.
Proof positive that rap is nothing more and nothing less than verse delivered in a particularly emphatic style. If you read some of the best ancient Greek verse in the original you can see that it would fall naturally into these kinds of rhythms. And here we have a selection from Shakespeare that seems to work pretty darn well. But really, whodathunk that the evidence for this scholarly theory would come from Great Canadian Celebrity the Shat?
Your HandyDandy Rapalong Guide
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus
Hath told you Caesar was ambitious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Caesar answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest–
For Brutus is an honourable man;
So are they all, all honourable men–
Come I to speak in Caesar’s funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
He hath brought many captives home to Rome
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:
Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?
When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
You all did see that on the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And, sure, he is an honourable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause:
What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him?
O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.
I have no idea where that image came from, but it’s an invaluable warning. Click here for a more detailed version. Not all cultures are familiar with the terminology “cougar” but I assure you that you know the type. Think Joan Collins as fortysomething divorcee, only without the fame, career, or money. Think leopard-print halter top over pressed jeans. Think expensive bag and shoes, fruity, mild-tasting cocktails with a nonetheless lethal kick, eg Cosmos. Really old cougars drink rum & diet coke, and would drink it straight from the bottle if it came like that.
The natural habitat of the cougar is the bar rail, just before closing time, and they can often be found at Dicks on Dicks, the Roxy, and anywhere with an Eighties night, where they will try not to show they know the words to every song.
While Vancouver is a known cougar-friendly habitat, South Oregonians are taking the situation into their own hands.
Sally Mackler, wildlife chairwoman for the Oregon Chapter of the Sierra Club, said she’s sympathetic to residents who’ve had run-ins with cougars, but rural residents have to learn to deal with the risks.
“It’s a UFO, Elvis-sighting kind of thing,” she said. “Cougars haven’t killed or attacked anyone locally.”
Yet.