I have to say, these guys are better than I ever was. But then, there are 67 of them! Personally, I’d have differentiated between space invaders and our guys in the credits, but that’s just my Manichean side poking out.
From BoingBoing:
Category Archives: Weird
MIT investigates tinfoil helmets
There are a few politicians and bloggers I know who should read this. But I won’t give them the link!
On the Effectiveness of Aluminium Foil Helmets:
An Empirical Study
Ali Rahimi1, Ben Recht 2, Jason Taylor 2, Noah Vawter 2
17 Feb 2005 1: Electrical Engineering and Computer Science department, MIT.
2: Media Laboratory, MIT.
Abstract
Among a fringe community of paranoids, aluminum helmets serve as the protective measure of choice against invasive radio signals. We investigate the efficacy of three aluminum helmet designs on a sample group of four individuals. Using a $250,000 network analyser, we find that although on average all helmets attenuate invasive radio frequencies in either directions (either emanating from an outside source, or emanating from the cranium of the subject), certain frequencies are in fact greatly amplified. These amplified frequencies coincide with radio bands reserved for government use according to the Federal Communication Commission (FCC). Statistical evidence suggests the use of helmets may in fact enhance the government’s invasive abilities. We speculate that the government may in fact have started the helmet craze for this reason.
We evaluated the performance of three different helmet designs, commonly referred to as the Classical, the Fez, and the Centurion [can’t you just see a certain classically-inclined Tory sporting this model?]. These designs are portrayed in Figure 1. The helmets were made of Reynolds aluminium foil. As per best practices, all three designs were constructed with the double layering technique described elsewhere [2].
A radio-frequency test signal sweeping the ranges from 10 Khz to 3 Ghz was generated using an omnidirectional antenna attached to the Agilent 8714ET’s signal generator.
The Streaker Guy
Date: Monday, November 11, 2002 2:31 AM
I was shopping at Sunrise Market, as I am wont to do when I need food, which is usually, so there I was on the outside around the corner, where the food is all marked with a red dot in some kind of ink that just can’t be good for you, to tell the cashier it is old and cheap. I imagine all the undotted peppers and cabbages on the inside look down on their dotty relations, but maybe they don’t, knowing that in the fullness of time they’ll either be chosen by some happy shopper, stolen by a junkie, or end up dotty themselves and so think: there but by the grace of God go I. Maybe. I mean it’s possible, right? Who the hell knows what broccoli thinks?
So there I am, looking at the zucchini of all things and comparing, because you don’t want to get stuck with a limp zucchini and even among the dotty ones there’s still a lot of choice. Just check out the bar at Dick’s on Dick’s at closing time. So I’m checking out the zucchini and someone runs past me at top speed and whips into the side door between the strawberries and the avocados, the one that leads to the meat. And I continue merrily and obliviously shopping along the side, strolling slowly until I reach an impasse: a Filipina, laughing her head off. Really, it looks like she will shake something loose that may be hard to put back on if she keeps it up.
“Did you see?”
“See what?”
“The NAKED GUY! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! He ran in there! HAHAHAHAHAHA! HEEHEEHEEHEE!” and so on.
“Naked guy?”
“Yes, hahahaha,” I think she finds my obliviousness even funnier than the naked guy. “He was all naked and he ran very quickly in the door.”
By this point even the grim and silent grizzled men who sweep up all day around the market are doubled up with their hands on their knees, whooping and hawing and having the time of their lives, or at least the last ten years.
At this point he returns.
THE RETURN OF THE NAKED GUY
Screams of laughter come from the front of the store, as he shoots out the front door and comes back along the side. We are special; we get two showings for the price of one. Well, it is the sale aisle.
As he runs past me he yells, “I’m the Streaker Guy!”
and who could argue with that?
today in Microscopic Squid news
I’ve been sitting on this for days (and boy, is my butt tired)(and smelly) because I thought it was totally fake.
Piglet Squid? Underwater geofeatures that look like naked women? I swear to god, I thought the Piglet Squid was some kinda Disney character, brought to life through the intervention of someone with Photoshop and too damn much time on his/her hands. What can I say, I never watched Saving Nemo…or was it Finding Private Ryan? Whatever, I never saw either of them. I ain’t seen Casablanca yet!
Imagine, if you will (or can) my mortification when I discover that the Piglet Squid is, in fact, a perfectly normal, if teensy, cephalopod that lives in the sea off Nigeria. Oh! The shame! I shall be laying off the calamari and buying live seafood in Chinatown for free-setting purposes in penance. Do tilapia do well in Burrard Inlet?
In any case, these are totally real photographs and (highly cool) video from the BP Kongsberg Underwater Image Competition. Do not miss the video section; bizarrerie of this magnitude does not come along every day, at least not without the use of expensive and debilitiating pharmaceuticals.
Save the Macy!
The Fuggers have done it again, documenting the cruel plight of my favorite scruffy-preppy actor next to Sam Waterston.
Poor William H Macy. Can’t you just read his mind?
WILLIAM H MACY: Save me. Someone save me.
BAI LING: I am soooooo comfortable here with William H Macy. I feel so safe. I feel so in love. I feel like I am wrapped in a giant ball of safe love. Love safe. Sove! Lafe!
WILLIAM H MACY: I fear I am about to start laughing inappropriately. The way you do at a funeral. Who wears a bikini top with a matching skirt, anyway? Although this isn’t bikini material. I don’t think. I don’t know. Felicity always wears a sensible one-piece…dress or swim suit, come to think of it. Oh my god, is she touching my butt?
BAI LING: Bai Ling Macy. Mr and Mrs William H Ling-Macy. Bai and Bill Macy-Ling. Ooh! Ooh! Personality Number Nine will LOVE being Bai Macy-Ling. That sounds like a new cut of panties!
WILLIAM H MACY: Felicity. I am so sorry. This means nothing. This crazy woman just attacked me. What was I supposed to do? I’m scared of her. She’s preternaturally strong.
BAI LING: I am so glad I decided to take this totally adorable polka dotty dress and make it into something that shows my middle section part! Look at Billiam H. Ling Macy-Ling rubbing my tummy!
WILLIAM H MACY: I am trying really hard not to touch any exposed skin.
BAI LING: I can’t wait until he leaves that lady who was the man-lady in that movie thing.
WILLIAM H MACY: How long am I supposed to stand here?
raincoaster 