spanaki, spanaki

After the following subject header, the body of the spam message (advertising depraved filthy golden showers) was a letdown. (One hesitates to use the word "anticlimax" here, but it may well be appropriate.)

"in order to writhe, some Norwegian limes furiously kill her Australian amulet! he is ancient! when does the buoy of disease insult her enormous red forklifts?"

I should translate that into modern Greek and use it when my next LARP character is driven mad by forces from beyond (something likely to happen to Lawrence Pickering), like poor Prince Carlos years ago, pictured here in an AP photo just after his insane babbling at Conclave (made up of strung-together nonsense from a Greek phrasebook) and not long before his untimely demise at the hands of Mr. Coleman.

(Incidentally to Mr. Coleman, you ungrateful diablerist bastard: at SJC's going-away party I finally got to see your "Blind Date." Wow.)

I leave you with this thought: if you had a CD of every movie soundtrack that includes a Lou Reed song, well, golly.
o

Humor

The Onion makes me happy.

"First, I think it is soooo important to support our troops 100 percent! All of them are sacrificing their lives for us, and we need to bolster their morale and show them we care, so that later on they don't scream at us for our spare change like the Vietnam War veterans."

And, as always the "Larry Groznic" column is masterly.ˇ

cut from a cloth

There's a woman standing in front of the library who is pear-shaped and wearing a purple cloak. I feel like I could go strike up a conversation about her favorite books and movies with ease.

Another woman on the T this morning, affecting the butch punk grrl look, had every sort of left-leaning cause represented by her numerous buttons
and pins on her bookbag, from rainbows to free Mumia to no blood for oil to pro-choice to animal liberation to ... well, you can probably fill them all in. And many of these are indeed fine and good, but somehow seeing them all together in vast array makes me want to roll my eyes, where, were they presented individually, I might note them with approval. But the effect is: oh, trade you an extra Leonard Pelletier for a Meat is Murder, I don't have one of those yet.

Probably I'm just being cynical.

It just never ceases to amaze me, alternative conformity -- even as I tend to fall into that trap myself. I'm getting more and more self-conscious about wearing my black trenchcoat when I'm otherwise all in black. That's not easy to avoid, given my wardrobe. Maybe I should start painting my nails again, grow a ponytail, and wear a dice bag like an amulet.


---
Speaking of subcultural conformity, tomorrow night J and I will be decked out just like everyone else for a rare visit to "Hell" at Man Ray. U Must Go.

( unrelated memory )

They called me mad at the academy...

I am, as you might have guessed, not having a productive workday.

I just spent a little time surfing the "quack science" world on the web, and it strikes me how many people seem convinced that because they are misunderstood and mocked, they *must* be geniuses.

Which leads me to wonder: Are there examples of fictional mad scientists whose doomsday devices just plain don't work, whose theories were mocked because they were, in fact, ridiculous and impossible?

"And now, Mr. Bond, you will watch helplessly as I test my earthquake machine on... Oh. Hmm. Maybe if it had more francium."

I think that would make for a fine climax to a movie.