Scientists prove themselves dumb by proving how smart they are.
Aug 24(clap. clap. clap)
Nice work guys. So, at a time when science is under attack, you decide now is the perfect opportunity to show how much smarter you are than, oh, the rest of the world.
Here’s the deal. If it’s big and it orbits the sun, everyone in the world (still a world, for the time being) thinks it’s a planet. And it’s been that way ever since the scientists first fought long and hard to prove Pluto was there in the first place.
The average Joe doesn’t even realize there’s other shit out there past Pluto, let alone understand or care why Pluto doesn’t make the arbitrary cut as a planet. Astronomy is full of arbitrary firsts – what’s an AU? What’s a parsec? First guy into the pool got to call it. First guy to go, “hey, there’s something big out there” got to call it a planet, not realizing that his historic first would be tossed out the window by a bunch of elitist pedants who want to be in on their own historical first – and Clyde can suck it.
It’s not like the astronomers club couldn’t have their little insider esotericisms (if that isn’t a word, I’m making it one) – join the gang and you get to be part of the hip crowd that doesn’t treat Pluto as a planet, just as you’re the only group that takes all those other rocks into account when you’re doing your math. You know, like the math nerds – to us, Pi is 3.14. To the math wonks, it’s a lot longer.
The rest of us still think Pluto is a planet.
WikiWikiWhack: Pluto
Dreaming of Jarvis Cocker
Aug 23Jarvis Cocker, lead singer of the brilliant Britpop band Pulp, wrote songs for some strange Broadway show. I believe puppets were involved.
During the day, he worked at some kind of weird antique/knick-knack shop. And he suddenly was something like eight or nine feet tall.
I go in, and we have a short polite conversation, but the whole time I’m thinking, “Oh shit it’s Jarvis Cocker I fucking LOVE him.”
Then he disappears, back into the store, and I open this side door, and talk to a few nice ladies about how much I love Jarvis Cocker, and they’re so nice, and then the next thing I know, some strange book has turned up in my possession, with the nicest inscription by Jarvis Cocker.
Then I woke up.
For the Future Files of Nerd Nation
Aug 21Dear Loudmouth Fanboy Clerk at Comic Shop Near Me Which Shall Remain Nameless for Now,
My better half and I were having a very nice little time at the comic shop this weekend until you intervened. Your fellow clerk, Gracious Fanboy, was ringing us up and doing quite a good job of it — I do not believe he required any assistance. And yet, you could not resist the urge to get your dorky self all up in there — “A-ha!” you likely thought. “Customers = the chance to make myself look awesome.”
So you started going through our books and giving your unsolicited opinions on each and every one. How fascinating that you enjoy Checkmate because it “gives [you] the chance to use [your] English degree.” How scintillating that you feel Runaways has a “good premise,” but lacks follow-through. I could have tolerated your commentary if it had ended there, but you then proceeded to gather the stack of books up in your grimy mitts and deliver a one-word proclamation on each one (“Good,” “OK,” “Poo”). Said proclamations were obviously not meant to provoke discussion with us, the customers, but were merely intended to, once again, show us your complete and total “awesomeness.” Whilst you were doing this, Gracious Fanboy had already rung up the purchase, gathered bags and boards, and was standing by waiting to hand over our books. Gracious Fanboy, if I may speculate, probably finds you kind of annoying. When you finally finished with your commentary, Gracious Fanboy rescued the stack of books from you, muttering “I’m sure they’re glad you mostly approve.”
On the contrary, Gracious Fanboy — on the contrary! Were it not for Loudmouth Fanboy, we would have completed the purchase and been out the door five minutes ago.
Loudmouth Fanboy, if you really have the burning urge to “help” Gracious Fanboy when he is assisting customers, I must insist that you confine your obnoxious, condescending, fucking irritating comments to the duration of the transaction. Once we sign the sales slip? You’re done.
If you really, really need to share your one-word views on comics with all the land, why not put that English degree to use and start a fucking blog like everyone else?
Thanks bunches,
Sarah
Hardey-Har-Har.
Aug 18Swiped from Greg Rucka:
What’s the difference between Civil War and that guy from N’Sync?
Oh, SNAP.
Aversion Therapy on a Plane
Aug 18I won’t review it – there will be enough hype (if it isn’t maxed out already.) I will say that the whole thing was a hoot, mostly due to the crowd. Here’s the short list why (and things you may want to consider too.)
– I highly recommend that anyone seeing the movie bring a flashlight and pals with flashlights. You’ll know when to use it.
-Paper airplanes were tossed every time the plane got an exterior shot in flight.
– Rubber snakes were all over the place (one guy actually brought his pet constrictor.)
– Help Sam Jackson by ending all his stern lines with “Bitch!”
– Get ready to yell after Rick.
– Cheer every chance you can think of.
– Try not to go too deep into the movie.*
*Honestly, the whole thing felt like the surprise internet hype machine required them to toss everything in they could think of, including a really really bad music video during the credits. I nicknamed one poor Vancouver day player Special Agent Exposition.
But damn… so much fun.
Sequel possibilities;
Sharks on a Boat
Spiders on a Bus
Wasps on a Blimp
