hodge podge of thoughts and fireballs.

Sorry I'm a little inundated with... occurences. How's that for vague. Heh.
Nothing dramatic, just some deadlines.
This shit I'm linking to is all worthy of a fat gumbo of smart words, which I am in no position to create.
So this week (real fast weeks these days, eh?) is 'write your own damn essay in the comments section' or something. As always, the best comment gets a 'pep talk' from me, delivered by phone, to a locker room of your choice.

13 Things that Don't Make Sense in science
. Not to taunt anyone for not knowing the secrets of the Universe or anything, but why is it that when cosmological equations don't add up, theorists create a 'dark something' that explains everything but we just haven't discovered it yet. 95% of matter isn't accounted for? It must be Dark Matter. We just haven't found it yet. Because it's Dark and kinda hard to see. Dark Stuff is the mathematical Deus Ex Machina. And they call the poets irrational.
The Punk Rock Approach to Weapons Program Management... I throw up a little in my mouth every time I think about it. Thanks, thanks a lot Living on Less. I think that's a sign: if weapons program managers can cite the Clash in their struggle to keep the war machine productive, it's about time that we had another riot. Shit like this reminds me of assholes who think that Dockers and buzzcuts really reflect how they feel inside. Edgy, but not 'thrown off the squash court' edgy.
By the way, I have a story that's along similar thematic lines to this one, and it involves the Clash. It's not a shit-talkin' story like Rob's tho. It'll just make you feel dirty and betrayed.

Finally, pursue serenity with the Falling Sand Game. Actually, whenever I play with this java toy, I just end up filling a giant tub with oil and then blowing it up. Oh yes, I Am too Male by Far.


At 2:12 a.m., Anonymous Mews said...

I just end up filling a giant tub with oil and then blowing it up. Oh yes, I Am too Male by Far.

Ah, exploding barrels. An old standard.

Mind you, they can also simply be thrown... if you're the mayor.

Which you are not.

The mayor.

You aren't the mayor.

At 2:15 a.m., Anonymous Mews said...

Oh and you know, the thing about Rob's shit-talkin story is that, when he was drunk, it involved direct physical confrontation with immaculately dressed members of International Noise Conspiracy. Sobriety? Just an argument, and the band was in civvies.

Smells like ambush.

At 5:49 p.m., Blogger eric said...

i know!
and he left out (on the internet) my favorite part... the phone call.

INC:Can we do an interview with CTV at your freespace?
R: Um, no...
INC:I see. is this... an anarchist free space?
R: yeah, that's right...
INC: so, you don't have the authority to keep us out, right?
R: but-
INC: we'll be right over.

A most grievous abuse of the consensus decision-making model, but it's damn funny.

At 9:47 p.m., Anonymous mews said...

that's not consensus. in consensus, everyone has veto.

unfortunately, the two most common cases are that no one uses it, or everyone. uses it. all. the time.


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