Yes, Brian must have a lot of time on his hands. Do they end up crispy, or limp? I bet they really clean out your insides. Garlic Dill Husquvarna, anyone?
Hat-tip: Bridlepath.
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Category Archives: mashups
Star Trek and the Red Jersey of Death: the math
At last a twisted genius has applied some higher math skillz to the age-old question of just how deadly is the red Starfleet uniform?
Answer: pretty damn deadly.
Probability of a red-shirt casualty= 53%
14% of fights ended in a fatality (with a 72% chance the fatality wore a red shirt)
Probability of a red-shirt “incident” when Kirk has a “conquest” = 12%
Which leads to some truly fascinating conclusions:
As the data shows, Captain Kirk “making contact” with alien women has an impact on the crew’s survival. The red-shirt death rate is higher when a fight breaks out than when Kirk meets a woman and a fight breaks out. Yet the analysis shows that meeting Kirk meeting women only happens in 30% of the missions.
Conclusion:
We can reliably improve the survivability of the red-shirted crewmen by only exploring peaceful, female-only planets (android and alien females included).
I particularly love the Powerpoint presentation. Surely, surely, those wizened old Admirals would enjoy the slides as well, for getting in those needed snoozes. Yes, the whole intricate and elegant article on the morbid red shirt is really a stalking horse, to distract you from the fact that, like it or not, you’re reading a comparative analysis of bar graphs vs Powerpoint vs pie charts. It’s as if the anonymous Fellini of the flipchart from Ross Perot‘s campaign finally busted a nerdish nut and this is the offspring.
May he live long and, yes, prosper.
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photo o’ the day: Cabazon Floyd
I knew there was a reason Chihuahuas scare me. Now, at last, is revealed the great secret, kept for two million years.
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Howl…for Lindsay Lohan
Cross-posted from the Shebeen Club.
Got this off Defamer. Yes, I can see Alan Ginsberg updating Howl just for the occasion. Lindsay Lohan is at least as consistently wasted as William S. Burroughs, although she is better-looking than he ever was and has not yet resorted to dealing. Clock ticking on that one, though.
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Homer Simpson! What are you DOING with that donut?
And, really, shouldn’t it be spelled “doughnut” if only for old-time’s sake? He’s an old-fashioned boy at heart, ya know.
Looks to me like ol’ Homer here is simply taking advantage of the “Special Relationship” to coax the Cerne Abbas Giant into a friendly game of ring toss. You’ll notice that Homer is proudly wearing tighty whities, while his British counterpart goes sternly commando. This is traditional with what’s known in a certain crowd as “Special Relationship Games:” the Yanks just do it to the Brits over and over and the Brits just take it. Just be glad it’s not lawn darts they’re playing.
According to the Sun, Limey pagans are threatening to perform terrifyingly effective rain dances that will wash away every trace of the offending Yank. Oh, that’ll teach ’em! A bunch of loopy New Ageists holding hands and pretending to be Lakota Sioux.
I have a feeling this is Churchill‘s fault, but I’m gonna blame Thatcher anyway on general principles.
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raincoaster 