pic o’ the day: Newfie iceberg of death!

Newfoundland iceberg spine

First the facts, then the theory!

Yeah, this should really help the tourism industry, eh? Snap above, from the neighbor of the photographer, story below (link in previous sentence) from Canada East.

Marine scientists in Canada and abroad are puzzled by bizarre photographs that appear to show the skeleton of a large mammal jutting out of an iceberg that recently drifted past Newfoundland’s east coast.

The six pictures show what looks like a brown rib cage and spinal column, slightly bent, sticking out of a crust of ice.

But researchers throughout Canada, Greenland and Norway are unable to determine the origin of the skeleton, said Garry Stenson, a marine mammal scientist with the federal Fisheries Department.

“It’s definitely unusual,” Stenson said Monday. “It’s not something that I’ve encountered before.”

His colleagues have been debating whether the carcass belongs to a bearded seal, a walrus or a beluga whale. But without the actual specimen in his hands, Stenson said he can’t resolve the mystery.

“It would be really nice to get a copy, a sample, a hold of it, but at this point we’re not quite sure what it is,” he said.

The photos were taken near Newtown, in Bonavista Bay…”If it was Photoshopped, it’s a damn good job,” he said. “The way that it’s laying there, with what looks to be part of it underwater, looks authentic.”

Stenson said he was told the backbone was roughly 2.4 metres out of the ice, leading him to believe the spine belonged to a large mammalian creature.

But he is uncertain whether the animal would have fallen into a crevasse in an iceberg and then got stuck, or if it simply died on an ice floe and later became embedded by other pans of ice.

“It could be a walrus, for example, that died and is laying on its back and the pressure of the snow and the ice has flattened those ribs,” he said….

“Sometimes a lot of my mysteries never get solved,” Stenson said with a sigh.

Deep One, mid-transitionOh man, I hear ya. If I had a dime for every time I said that I’d have enough to go on cruise to Newfoundland.

Despite suggestions from the unruly mob that this could be the corpse of a bucket-mourning, suicidal lolrus, we at the ol’ raincoaster blog are in fact quite certain that these are the remains of the Byakhee that was reported missing over the Plateau of Leng more than sixty years ago. Would the owner please come to the information desk at the Kadathian Lost and Found to pick it up, preferably before the warm weather starts.

Newfies would be ill-advised to mount a scientific expedition at this point. VERY ill-advised. Not that we don’t love scientists: why, the last ones were delicious…

add to del.icio.us :: Add to Blinkslist :: add to furl :: Digg it :: add to ma.gnolia :: Stumble It! :: add to simpy :: seed the vine :: :: :: TailRank

Media Predict: calling all artsies! It’s power play time!

ming

Have you been to Digg lately? Yes? Then you’re probably an apolitical male in the lower levels of technology as a career and lifestyle. Everyone else has largely been chased out of there; the intellectual gene pool is self-selecting for inbreeding as a function of the way the system has been set up and the way the system has been gamed. It rewards people who form reward-based gangs to muscle the conversation in various directions, and it works very efficiently at this. It works this way in every social bookmarking network, as far as I can see.

The half-life of a useful community seems to be shrinking as well, as the gamers catch on that the games themselves are tranferable and they can simply take the exact same plan to wherever pops up next.

Reddit, for which I once had some hope, is quickly becoming a ghetto populated by amusing pictures of questionable provenance and American politics, period, which is a shame. With a wider base to begin with, and less scope for self-serving blather, there was every possibility that it could have become a general interest site with enormous reach, but that, obviously, didn’t happen. Part of the reason was the inability to categorize your submissions, so that everything was simply thrown into a huge pool (there are Sub-reddits for uh, for uh, for two things that apparently don’t interest me enough to remember them at all) and thus the single most popular conversation quickly becomes the only functioning one at all, as all other conversations are marginalized off the radar screen. And its functions facilitate vendetta: you can view everything posted by an individual, and just click through the whole list, downvoting things without reading them; as I type this, I’m losing points at reddit as someone does this very thing to my profile.

Truemors is very new, and entirely unfocused, but as yet it’s not reached a critical mass. A site based on rumours needs a certain minimum number of people who are both informed of interesting facts and of mixed enough loyalty to share them with strangers rather than keeping them to themselves. Guy Kawasaki‘s base does not consist of those people, let’s just say that, and there are times when it feels like I’m the only person who is NOT a marketer who’s posting to that site or even reading it. What it becomes will depend entirely on who it reaches; if he’s planning for the long term (which he probably is not) he should make it work as a Facebook add-on and recruit students, because in a couple of years they’ll be exactly who and what he needs for this site. As for right now, trolling Consumerist or some of the political sites might be more useful, because that’s where you find the vast disgruntled.

In each case, it looks like the way to keep the conversations meaningful is to keep the conversations separate. Fark has its niche and it rules it well, because it knows this lesson and it is edited by a dictator, yet another useful tip. If the techies want to talk tech, give them a tech forum for that or they’ll gang up and steal your site. If the politicos want to release media statements every fifteen minutes and flood the front page, give them a place to talk to the politically minded or rant into dead space as the case may be, so they don’t hijack more than their NVIP section. If you want to host one global metaconversation, the only way to prevent the hijacking seems to be to make distinct sandboxes and pull the most popular stories from each, which should be done by a dictator with a heart of stone and backbone of molybdenum steel. Ongoing antigaming action should be a given, but it’s not. If you build it and it functions, that does not necessarily mean it’s functioning as you intended it to; just ask a guy who builds guns for a living and who gets shot.

Now, us literati and other dwellers in the virtual Montparnasse get our own sandbox to play in, as Gawker reports. While we have an entirely too well-documented tendency to become addicted to gambling (and what are futures, if not gambling, eh?) Media Predict will, in all probability, be co-opted by some smart criminal who realizes that the methods of taking over a site like this are well established, widely available, and free to implement. Offer payouts in real money, have your army of runners collect the cash, skew the odds, and rake in the dollars from people who dare not turn you in lest they implicate themselves.

Oh. Wait. I need money. brb.

add to del.icio.us :: Add to Blinkslist :: add to furl :: Digg it :: add to ma.gnolia :: Stumble It! :: add to simpy :: seed the vine :: :: :: TailRank

Hey, you got your thetan in my cult! Well you got your cult all up in my thetan!

Xenu is my homeboyHow to drive Scientologists crazy for fun and profit. And that’s AFTER L.Ron and his minions have already warmed them up for you; they’re halfway there already!

“Your problem is that you are easily led.”

I thought about this for a moment. I didn’t actually feel particularly easy to lead, I decided, but perhaps she would have something to tell me I didn’t know.

Having allowed her point to sink in, she continued, “Do you want to be activator or activated?”

This was a bit cryptic, and I quite honestly didn’t get her drift, so I asked her politely to explain exactly what she meant.

“Do you want people to activate you, or do you want to activate them?”

“Well.” I hesitated, considering this rather either-or view of things. “Does one have to go around activating people to avoid being activated by them?”

“Yes.” She was very decisive about this. I had to admit that she had in fact just told me something I had never known before.

“I’m not certain that I agree. As far as I know I activate myself and other people do the same for themselves.”

“It isn’t that simple!” Again she was extremely decisive. This was interesting since it had always seemed that way to me.

“Do I have the right to activate people? Isn’t it their job and their right to activate themselves? You’d be taking a hell of a responsibility if you went around activating people, wouldn’t you?”

“Only for their own good!”

Now she was really beginning to interest me. Her logic was fascinating: To avoid being activated by people, which would be bad for me, I had to activate them, which would be good for them. (Quite apart from the fact that statements like “for their own good” have a tendency to stimulate my anti-authority neurosis and trigger off the little alarm bells.) This was becoming interestinger and interestinger, and I was becoming curiouser and curiouser about exactly who these people were. I was just about to find out.

“Now.” She fixed me with her gaze. “What you need is this book!” She held it up.

I leant forward and examined it. Large, cheerfully coloured letters on the front identified it: DIANETICS, by L. RON HUBBARD…

This continues for some time, escalating entertainingly, after which…

I leant back and waited expectantly.

She blinked, looked at me somewhat blankly, then blinked again. I waited expectantly.

She looked at her desktop and blinked at that. This didn’t look partcularly encouraging, but I waited expectantly.

Her next move was to place her elbows on the desktop, fold her hands together and start rocking her body backwards and forwards. She finally stopped rocking and started staring at me intensely. What she hoped to achieve by this was unclear.

I felt it was time to give her som encouragement and guidance.

“Dear Lady.” My tone was extremely patient and sympathetic. “You have to give me a sales pitch, you know. You aren’t going to sell me anything by just looking at me and clamming up.”

She frowned, and kept frowning for a while. Then, to my astonishment, she blew herself up like a frog, pointed at the door and screamed hysterically, “UD FOR FAEN!!! UD!!!” (This translates roughly as “Get the fuck out of here! Get out!”)

I rose politely while she glared at me balefully, quivering and looking very apoplectic. Having opened the door preparatory to leaving, I addressed her again.

“But Dear Lady.” My tone was full of fatherly concern. “You aren’t going to activate me into buying anything by throwing me out of your office. Have you paid money for these courses? Are you sure you haven’t been ripped off?”

That really did it! She shot to her feet like a champagne cork, hunched her shoulders, withdrew her head like a turtle, stamped on the floor and, gesticulating hysterically in the direction of the door with her index finger, her whole arm and her whole body, emitted an even more ear-splitting “UD FOR FAEN!!! UD!!! U-U-U-D!!!”

Out of concern for her observably imminent heart attack I withdrew.

Don’t miss the scientific conclusions and wrap-up on the site.

the cat carrier

What would the lolcats say?

Useful for small, vicious children as well. A great gift item, and reasonably priced, too! I, personally, prefer to drug them and then throw them in an old burlap sack full of rusty nails I’ve fished up from the bottom of an old cistern, but I understand that this rather rough and ready solution might not be entirely Martha-approved. This looks quite safe, though:

 Cat Carrier, useful for small, vicious children as well

add to del.icio.us :: Add to Blinkslist :: add to furl :: Digg it :: add to ma.gnolia :: Stumble It! :: add to simpy :: seed the vine :: :: :: TailRank

BBC reporter loses it on Scientology bot: the FULL story

Writing for a penny a word is ridiculous. If a man really wants to make a million dollars,
the best way would be to start his own religion”
L.Ron Hubbard
 

I’ve been feeling a little like reporter John Sweeney myself lately, and only today did something like this to a neighbor of mine, someone whose blithe inhumanity needed a good smackdown. Maybe the BBC should hire me, as I definitely scored more hits than this poor, hapless Brit.  

To be fair, he’d just sat through a video designed to destabilize people; to be fair to the Scientologist production crew, it’s obviously quite effective. But before they had a chance to move on to the “love bombing” phase of the experiment, the subject returned to the clutches of his profession and started asking questions.

Here is the full, just-under-a-minute rant when he snaps and goes apeshit on Tommy Davis, the blocker droid that L.Ron‘s minions sent to deal with him. Listen to the bot as he flawlessly repeats the same line for the entire duration of the verbal assault; it’s like the dilithium crystals got scratched and they’re skipping. THAT, my friends, is the truly scary part.

The rant is parenthesized by background reports from the BBC that explain, among other things, that prior to his outburst the reporter had been stalked for several days by Scientology operatives, and had just endured a 19-minute video designed to show that the Holocaust was the fault of psychiatry; this video included helpful scenes such as children getting needles in their eyes and other such light fare to set the tone.

One thing I’ll say for them; the Scientologists, for all that they’re psychiatry naysayers, understand psychology very, very well indeed.

add to del.icio.us :: Add to Blinkslist :: add to furl :: Digg it :: add to ma.gnolia :: Stumble It! :: add to simpy :: seed the vine :: :: :: TailRank