Category Archives: Generation X

the Blogosphere works in mysterious ways

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TIA

Operation Global Media Domination

Indeed, no sooner had I cried to the heavens with wailing and the rending of garments (well, they were slightly torn already, but surely that counts? Like, God wouldn’t be picky about placement in linear time, would he? Ya think a deity doesn’t have better things to do than fart around with continuity details? Puh-leez!) about the loss of my paid gig than the clouds parted (probably accompanied by the Red Sea, but I can’t tell from here…anybody got Google Earth?) the angels sang (NIN’s Year Zero actually; it was lovely) and the mysterious Manolo handed me a sweet and juicy gig that’s probably ultimately going to pay better, take less time, and definitely means I don’t have to read Gizmodo anymore.

It’s a scary, only-virtually hedonistic place in there, Gizmodo: the kind of Xanadu that a Zeta Male imagines is heaven…imagines from the comfort of a Barcalounger in his mom’s basement. IE his mom’s basement, but with more stuff!

Anyway, I lost a job and, true to form, I whined. I mean, if I hadn’t whined you’d have had grounds to send in a missing person’s report, as I’d obviously have been abducted and replaced with some sort of replicant. Some pray, I whine. What can I say? The payout rate is better when I do it my way.

Fun blogging to re-commence in 24 minus n hours!

Which reminds me: for some reason I thought there was an underwear hook on this post…if it re-occurs to me, I’ll make an underwear-related post to explain. Gawd knows what it was, only it had something to do with doctors and Amy Winehouse.

the terrible, no good, shitty, completely fucked-up day

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It was a beautiful Sunday. Not a drop of rain, just enough sun to burn off the moisture from the Seawall, leaving it perfect for skating. A slight sea breeze, keeping it cool enough to be enjoyable and Chinatown fresh enough not to attract too damn many screaming shithawks. My chores were done, my work was done, and I was free.

I checked my email.

Suddenly, it was no longer a perfect Sunday. It was a deeply, irrevocably flawed Sunday.

It was the Sunday on which I found out that the contract which makes up 40% of my income had vanished, Poof, into thin air. The company just stopped paying their bills, it seems. The company for whom I’m subcontracting is going to pay me for my work to this point, but not beyond, so suddenly I find myself with a considerable amount of free time and a considerable hole looming in my bank account.

Naturally, I self-medicated in an entirely irrational fashion. I figure if the universe can be irrational to me, I can be irrational right back. I went on what someone on a budget as tight as mine would call a bender: I went to the Ovaltine for a house burger and diet Coke, $7, then I took myself down to the A&N boutique where I bought two new, lacy bras for $4.98 apiece and three summer tees at 3 for $9.99, and then I went for a long walk down Robson where I saw many, many shoes I now cannot afford and even walked right past the 40% off sale at the Gap without so much as going in or even pining much, and then I went to Dix and bought myself an IPA and a Red Truck Ale and a very nice man heard me out and bought me a conciliatory Red Truck as well, although believe me, when I’m on a vegan diet it doesn’t take much to get me quite entertainingly loopy and I was, and then we talked about El Alamein and Monte Cassino and Ypres and many similarly cheerful topics dating from before we were both born.

And then I came home, thought about working out, thought ah, fuckit tonight because, really, how often can anyone, even me, have a day like this, and decided to work my aggro out watching V for Vendetta yet again. If I’m still aggro-acious in a few hours, I’ll suck down a coffee and go out for a run.

Anybody need a blogger?

It’s Midnight. It. Is. Time.

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For Devo:

For the record and just to warn the universe on general principles, it is now eight minutes after midnight on July 4th and the moronic bumblers working on the garage gates of our apartment building are STILL AT IT WITH THE FUCKING POWER TOOLS, sixteen hours after they started and six hours after the bylaws say they have to stop. I tried calling the noise bylaw hotline: it’s open from 9am-4pm, Monday to Friday, and there is NO VOICE MAIL.

If they really want to see a power tool up close and personal, just let them keep this up till my bedtime.

Thus: the Devo. I am self-medicating with New Wave.

Although in Operation Global Media Domination news, I note with great pleasure that my post on Ashley Kaufman at Lolebrity is on the front page of Google. The post on Gawker got kilt; wonder why? Ah, well, less competition!

Eddie Izzard’s Death Star Canteen Routine, in Lego

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Just what it says, people. Empty your bladders before clicking Play, particularly if you’ve been helping out in any technical help forums. When he gets into the thing with the tray you will lose control

BTW: those Lego figurines’ acting is at LEAST as good as some of the Star Wars actors’.

Blame Australia

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Darth Vader and Priests

Okay, WTF?

And I do not say WTF? lightly. I only break out the WTF? for truly WTF?-worthy occasions.

Such as this one.

WTF?

I blame Australia. Weren’t the Aussies the ones who got Jediism recognized as a religion? Yes, it’s a real religion now. And so Darth Vader is either their Pope or their Anton LaVey, depending on your perspective. So, naturally, from that point ten years ago to this it’s an easy stroll to this photo, which was apparently (my Icelandic is somewhat rusty; Paging Bjork!?!?!?!) snapped at a 100% legit ecumenical networking meeting.

Which is not to imply that there is a samizdat or heretical ecumenical meeting underground, although that would be post-worthy as well, if somewhat of a logical impossibility. But we have certainly never let impossibility or logic stop us, as Metro will be only too happy to attest in the comments.

UPDATE:

Bloody Hell! None of the major online translators have an Icelandic-to-English web page translation service. Why, this is SCANDALOUS! SCANDALOUS, I tell you! I finally found one at InterTran, praise be to Cthulhu!

Blackface{Svarthöfði} riverstalk, laumast að, slope off, laumast burt, infiltrate, stream, {á} vegum félagsmanna intoat, during, for, in, {í} UnbeliefDisbelief, Incredulity, Scepticism, Skepticism, {Vantrú}

OrganisationAssociation, Company, Fellowship, Partnership, Society, {Félagar} intoat, during, for, in, {í} samtökunum UnbeliefDisbelief, Incredulity, Scepticism, Skepticism, {Vantrú} pack of horsesstud, {stóðu} pay lip service to{fyrir} participationinvolvement, {þátttöku} Blackface{Svarthöfða}  intoat, during, for, in, {í} walkingambulatory, peripatetic, {göngu} sacerdotalclerical, {presta} whomas, that, which, who, {sem} voru riverstalk, laumast að, slope off, laumast burt, infiltrate, stream, {á} leið riverstalk, laumast að, slope off, laumast burt, infiltrate, stream, {á} clausesentence, simple sentence, typesetting, {setningu} Synod{Prestastefnu} intoat, during, for, in, {í} Cathedral{Dómkirkjunni} yesterday{í gær}.

Snuggle up toAdvanee, Eneourage, Promote, Nuzzle up against, {Að} verbbid, {sögn} Matthíasar Ásgeirssonar, shapeformat, {formanns} UnbeliefDisbelief, Incredulity, Scepticism, Skepticism, {Vantrúar}, var ;fn)þetta þarna, that, this, it, {þetta} onlynone but, but, exclusively, simply, strictly, just, {aðeins} jokingly{í gríni} gert whilebut, only, than, whenas, whereas, {en} themall, þeim mun, {þeim} – finna{fannst} verya great many, a great, widely, all, greatly, highly, immensely, {afar} drolly{spaugilegt} snuggle up toadvanee, eneourage, promote, nuzzle up against, {að} improvecompensate, mend, repair, {bæta} Blackface{Svarthöfða} intoat, during, for, in, {í} hópinn.

Aðspurður sayestsayst, {segir} Matthías goings-on{viðburðinn} beef upbuild up, bolster, boost, favour, fortify, further, hype, intensify, promote, redound, reinforce, {eflaust} notdon’t, never, {ekki} becomegot to, get, grow, occur, take, will, remain, must, need, {verða} yearly{árlegan} whilebut, only, than, whenas, whereas, {en} neverne’er, , nevermore, aldrei framar, {aldrei} sé snuggle up toadvanee, eneourage, promote, nuzzle up against, {að} knowwit, {vita} totalstudy, tot, tot up to, work out at, amount to, {nema} Blackface{Svarthöfði} departeddeceased, defunct, {láti} aft{aftur á} scrape togetherrestrain oneself, hoard, {sér} kræla.

Well, that clears that up!