Chocolate Rain…by Chad Vader

An instant classic. Now, Tay Zonday aficionados and Star Wars fanboys can come together and enjoy their favorite music in a big, happy, zero-gravity hyperwarp planet of luv!

Your basic Tay Zonday original:

and the updated, Star Wars version by Chad Vader, Day Shift Manager.

via StarWarsBlog via Defamer

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max adams: the Pinkertons dossier

max adamsAs promised, here is max‘s biography. Consider biographization to be a meme if you enjoy such things.

Warning: your mileage may vary. We assume no liability. No warranty implied. Before beginning this or any exercise plan, consult your physician. Not intended as a replacement for the advice of a competent professional.

Which, if I’d had access to, would probably have resulted in something a lot less interesting.

max adams: the Pinkertons dossier

Editor’s note: In relating the circumstances which have led to my confinement within this refuge for the demented, I am aware that my present position will create a natural doubt of the authenticity of my narrative. It is an unfortunate fact that the bulk of humanity is too limited in its mental vision to weigh with patience and intelligence those isolated phenomena, seen and felt only by a psychologically sensitive few, which lie outside its common experience. Men of broader intellect know that there is no sharp distinction betwixt the real and the unreal; that all things appear as they do only be virtue of the delicate individual physical and mental media through which we are made conscious of them; but the prosaic materialism of the majority condemns as madness the flashes of supersight which penetrate the common veil of obvious empiricism.

max adams is such a phenomenon.

In creating this dossier we have been in constant contact with our offices in St. Petersburg, Istanbul, Silverlake, Ponape, Zurich, Area 51, Abu Simbel, Great Zimbabwe, and of course, Head-Smashed-In-Buffalo-Jump. Although facts are few, and expensively won, we have been able to assemble the following biographical sketch.

max adams is the laboratory-created daughter of the frozen sperm of Errol Flynn and pioneering biologist Nicolette Tesla (granddaughter of the famous physicist) who, deprived by the relentless progress of Glasnost of a ready supply of involuntary subjects, was forced to experiment upon herself.

Succeeding beyond her wildest dreams, she gave birth to max, whom she named Erriol in an epidural trance, during which she recited the entirety of The Tempest, with different voices and everything, pausing only to berate the attending doula for her hopelessly provincial dress sense.

max was raised in Tesla‘s mountain fortress to the age of four, when she was taken away by agents of the state to undertake the gruelling process of being schooled for the Olympic ice dancing team.

During a particularly contentious international competition in Bakersfield, California, max defected to the West and since that time has denied all knowledge of the former European Ice Dancing Championship team of Erriol Tesla and Sergey Brin.

She currently lives a quiet life as a night custodian and DJ at Slim Jim’s Crematorium and Rib House hidden deep in the bowels of the the new CAA headquarters, while maintaining a small scientific consulting practice with an exclusive clientele including MIT’s jet propulsion laboratory, Chicago’s Slam Poetry Championship, and Burger King.

~end~

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Cthulhugami

I hate it when BoingBoing is on something before I am. Once! Once in six months! Time for some affirmations.

My self-esteem is intact. I am worthy. I have the respect of the Cthulummunity and the admiration of my peers. Yes, I do.

And I’m not defensive, either.

Bloody hell. Here, several days late, is the brazilliant, step by step photodocumentation of the creation of the immortal Origami Cthulhu!

Sometimes I think the most merciful thing in the world is the inability of human fingers to call into being the greatest of the Great Old Ones. We live in an origami-versions-of-Elder-Gods-free world, and it is not meant that we should fold.

Cthulhu origami

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Star Trek and the Red Jersey of Death: the math

lolredshirts

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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meet Banditcar, lightsaber sensei

Ah, I love the internets. Getting big online is like starting a religious cult: if something doesn’t exist in the real world, just make it up. Once enough people believe in your premise, Bob‘s your uncle.

Before eBay, did anybody think Six Million Dollar Man crap was really worth THAT much? Suppose I can’t be too smug, though: I actually HAD that t-shirt. And no, I didn’t get it at the time.

As I write this, I am pimping out my Second Life avatar in preparation for leading online blogging classes. So we’re all about the meta, the virtual, and the zeta today.
For an example of the kind of ephemeral (and temporary {hello Mahir! I kiss you!}) career which the intertubes have brought down the i-chute, may I present Bandicar, the Lightsaber Sensei.

With no fewer than 26 different saber spinning styles, each with its own YouTube video, a presumably economically-rewarding relationship with the manufacturer of regulation lightsabers, and a DVD release last year, Banditcar here has clearly maximized the metaverse’s potential for self-promotion.

Hmm, are lightsabers futuristic or retro?

I have to ask these things.

Whether he’d truly be any good in a real lightsaber fight is a question which is the quintessence of irrelevance, given that there is actually no such thing as a lightsaber and thus, no such thing as a real lightsaber fight. So, it’s not a real object or a real activity, but it is a real career. Got that? Hey, money’s just a mutually agreed upon delusion anyway. It makes TOTAL sense to me.

Now, to think of crossover opportunities. Oh, ComicCon, sure, but let’s get creative here. Lightsaber-wielding bodyguard? Hey, we’ve endured the Cooterflash Wars, the Duelling DUI‘s: since lengthy prison stints do tend to take one off TMZ‘s radar, perhaps Pimp My Bodyguard is the way to go, and in the darkness of most nightclubs I can’t think of a more impressive way to stand out in Teddy‘s than to be guarded by a ring of lightsaber stormtroopers. Oh, scuse me, I’ve got a call…

Vin Diesel on Line One.

Vin Diesel, nerd

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