I don't stay up late

Stupid people doing stupid things = not funny.

Smart people doing stupid things = funny.

Whiskey Fire

I wrote this yesterday:

Gerry may be the first film I've seen in which all of the named characters are named Gerry. It's a good film, but it's not for everybody … including, perhaps, me. The premise is pretty simple: two guys go for a hike in the desert without food or water and get lost. Reminds me of a student summary of Hemingway's masterpiece “Big Two-Hearted River”: “Nick goes fishing.”Whiskey Fire, Feb 2009

You should read the whole article ... if you want to.

This automated reblogging function is courtesy of Zemanta, which is pretty cool, but not as cool as I want to to be ...

Beloved be the one who sits down

Okay, so I'm watching Songs from the Second Floor even as I type. I don't recall what motivated me to put it in my Netflix queueueue in the first place, but years later, it's here. So I'm watching it. It's surreal. Not Andalusian Dog while my Spanish professor plies me with wine and offers to read my palm surreal, but surreal enough nonetheless.

Since I'm pretty much resolved not to rant about work in this venue, I don't really have a lot to say ... I've had my nose to the grindstone, my ear to the ground, my balls to the wall, pedal to the metal ... It's like a game of Twister I tell ya.

And of course a week from now I'll be literally halfway around the world. It's been fun mentioning this trip to people. If I say the name of the country I'll be visiting, people say, "Oh wow, that's great." If I say I'm going to "The Middle East," then it's a whole different thing. Interesting.

Since I'm not a habitual traveler, I can't say that my destination is the kind of place I'd have picked to visit on my own, but after sitting through much of Songs from the Second Floor, I believe that I prefer it to Sweden.

I am in awe

This is the greatest:



As seen on failblog.org.

The only thing that would be better is if there really were zombies. Not lizard people zombies, though. That would be too much!

Happy Birthday, Chuck D.

Yesterday was Charles Darwin's birthday, and I forgot to get him anything. If you see him, fling some poo!


This is a fun link for Devo fans:

Devolve me!


Are we not men?

Hit me, baby, one more time

In the last week or so, several people have found happiness (i.e. this blog) by searching for "inappropriate self disclosure." Could it be that the ol' Wordshed (i.e. this blog) is becoming a mecca for those interested in inappropriate self-disclosure? Would that be a good thing? And what, exactly, are they looking for? It's like a porn search for the INTJ crowd, right?

Do they expect me to reveal something inappropriate about myself? That, for instance, mime was the only form of communication permitted at the dinner table when I was growing up? Or that I once promoted full-duplex toilet paper as a conservation/cost-cutting measure? That as a child I dreamt of writing the autobiography of Jorge Luis Borges? That I once unknowingly flirted with a little person in a bar ? That I've had the song "On the Atchison, Topeka, and the Santa Fe" running through my head for the last ten years?

What do these people want from me?

Oh, another popular search phrase is, I'm sorry to report, "superior drinkability." Sheesh. I'm ahead of Bud in the Google search, incidentally.

Corporate Recognition at Last!

I had a hit from General Mills today, searching on the terms "shut up steve." While I would like to consider myself an impartial critic of media and culture, the message I really want to get out to people is this: I CAN BE BOUGHT. Call me.

Seriously. Do you want "The box says 'shut up Steve'" to be the next "Where's the beef"? I'm your man! (Incidentally, I spent a long time trying to decide where to put that question mark relative to the quotation mark, and I'm not entirely happy with the result.) Let's make this happen!

Seriously people. From "magically delicious" (don't get me started) to "better eatcher Wheaties" (better) to "Shut Up Steve"?

Uh, let me guess: The box says, "STFU Jim." Am I close?