beezers

I had a long post all set to go about Scrippsin' It '09 and the bets I have placed with my brother (over/unders for prepubescent moustache notwithstanding, I'm pretty confident in my pick for champion) but can we talk about something real fast? The semifinalists were just announced.

Alex Wells????? Serena Laine-Lobsinger?????

Way to go cool kids. Way to show up and co-opt what the nerds like and ruin things, as usual.

I'm going with number 3

Where did he just deliver that last speech?

1. Tron
2. The Matrix
3. The Holodeck

I'm a stripper and a poet; my name is Sidell but they call me Ecstasy

Via Hopper: How much do I love public access TV?

Also, please note the ripoff of "Around the Way Girl." He needs a plus size around the clock. I'll break it down to you on the physical aspect. Daaaaaamn.

For those of you who aren't reg'lar tinylukcygenius readers, let this be all the motivation you need. Do RSS!

This site’s content basically comes down to two things. First, posts directed at one specific person, usually my wife or her husband. Second, posts about things that no one gives a shit about. This is one falls under the latter.

I recently came into possession of this incredibly awesome phone.



It’s a Swisstel, 9 inch, yellow wonder speckled with blue confetti. It has a flash button for call waiting, a redial button for calling back the Ghostbusters, and hold button that doesn’t actually put anyone on hold since you have to keep it pressed to maintain the muting function. In an effort to boost voice clarity, the bottom 3 inches impressively curl toward the mouth like an armadillo shell.



It’s a marvel of plastic and science.

However, I don’t know anything else about it. I casually mentioned that it was a Swisstel phone like that was supposed to mean anything to anybody. But a google of Swisstel produces absolutely zilch. So what can we learn of this phone? To the library! With our library cards of learning!

According to a 1988 press release, this phone was Switzerland’s first foray into the vast market of America’s Debbie Gibson-inspired Electric Youth youth.

Swisstel (US) hopes to achieve US telephone market penetration of 3-4% by end-1989. The company is a unit of Ascom Hldg, Switzerland's largest and the world's 11th largest telecommunications concern. Swisstel's 1st product, a lightweight, futuristic phone offered in 10 colors is currently being marketed in the US, which the company plans to use as a base for worldwide market expansion.

But sales didn’t take off like the Swiss had hoped. And it didn’t help that the initial price for this fantastic piece of junk was $70. A second press release the next year reveals that they may have over-estimated the phone’s appeal. According to the Swisstel president,

"The result of those earlier miscalculations was that while we met our fiscal goals, we didn't achieve our sales expectations."

It went on,

Taking a corrective course, Swisstel has made a $ 30 price cut on its unique line of slim-line phones effective in September. The retail price has gone from $ 59.95 to $ 29.95, while actual retail selling prices could be as low as $ 19.95.

By 1990, there were no more mentions of Swisstel selling phones anywhere. In fact, I don’t think they even existed anymore. A $50 phone made from $3 worth of plastic was too much for even the likes of that handsome rich kid Steve Sanders. The Swiss tucked their tails between their legs and limped back to the Land of Chocolate to make army knives and Papal bodyguards.

But that’s not where this story ends. The point of this post wasn’t to brag about my awesome new phone that no one else in the world has. This post is intended to draw attention to the fact that Carnegie Mellon University maintains one of the largest collections of Swiss graphic design and poster art in North America, as far as I can tell. Perhaps the world? But by browsing their extensive assemblage I came across a second confirmed image of this phone. Then even more.



I don’t understand how these things, even at their ridiculous prices, didn’t achieve 50% market penetration. But I’m guessing it has something to do with the fact it looks like a giant wang when you turn it over.



Wang.

Set Phasers to Fail

(Let me preface this by saying that I once lived in an apartment addressed 1357 Lois Lane.)

In the case Star Wars v Star Trek, I have traditionally found in favor of Lucas. Star wars was always inescapable. But my only real exposure to the world of Roddenberry was through the terrifying reruns of the Star Trek cartoon on Nickelodeon. The color palate they used on the show featured a lot of harsh reds, oranges, and yellows and I was always a little uncomfortable watching it, for some reason. Seeking out the real show was not a high priority. And Star Trek didn’t feature action figures with easily swallowed tiny, plastic blasters.

I did get into TNG. So I do know a little something something about dilithium crystals and can hold my own with The G’s Trekkie coworkers. So when I passed this street sign in very rural Virginia a few days ago, I thought to myself “NERDS!”



Isn’t trillium from Star Trek? Isn’t it some mineral like dilithium or something? Maybe not, I can’t remember. It’s no glitterstim.

But the very next street sign was this.



Clearly, a family of geeks has settled in SW Virginia and named the streets after Star Trek. This has to be documented, the world must know.

But I dug around and couldn’t find anything. No references on the internet, no newspaper articles, no message board missives. What’s going on? Shouldn’t Trekkies be all over this shit? This would be a perfect setting for a Star Trek/Civil War re-enactment. Unless…

Doubt started to trickle in. This couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? There couldn’t be two Star Trek related street 30 yards apart in the middle of the boonies, could there? This had to be planned. By nerds, no less. I recognize their work.

Alas, the nerd was me. Trillium is in fact an obscure Star Trek mineral. But a quick wiki search show it’s also a beautiful flower. And Tribbles? They plagued Kirk in the classically campy episode 44 in “The Trouble With Tribbles." But according to a quick search of Montgomery County, VA public records, the Tribble family has also been living on Tribble Road for 30+ years.

So there isn’t some nerd paradise outside of Christiansburg full of contraction-less androids and rubber-suited aliens. It’s just full of chickens.

OF NOTE

GG2R

Sports Authoritarianism

Of all my grandfathers’s grandchildren I am the only boy. That makes me his favorite grandson. And it means that when attention is doled out, I always receive something different. For instance, a few years back all the granddaughters received sizable cash gifts. I got his 1986 Jeep Cherokee with wooden side panels and a sticker on the back that alerted police officers that he was a member of their law enforcement fraternity. (Although pulled over several times, I never received a ticket driving that car.)

At some point in the mid-80’s he traveled to Asia and brought back gifts. The girls got fancy umbrellas or something. I got an olive green, brimmed cap with a plastic red star on the front. I loved that hat and wore every moment outside of school. I wore it as bike helmet. It was sweat stained. The cheap stitching rotted until the lining fell out. It was a gloriously ridiculous hat for a 12-year-old to wear.

One summer day, I was wearing it at the local comic book shop when one of the older CBGs who liked to harass the young kids grilled me about the hat’s meaning. It was clear I had no idea. And it was also clear that even after he explained to me what it represented, I still had no idea. What does a pre-teen know of communism and the Vietnam War? (Except it’s where Frank Castle learned his trade. And Iron Man a little bit too. ) But I did know that this guy had a problem with my hat.

Since this guy got off on hassling kids and I didn’t want to be a target, I stopped wearing it to the comic book store. Eventually, I stopped wearing it altogether. And then mom got a hold of the thing and threw it away. So long novelty Chairman Mao Tze Tung Revolution Communist Red Army Cap: size 58cm.

For me, Communism died that day.


-


Last weekend I went shopping for a new pair of running shoes. This routine outing quickly became a chore since I seemingly have the most common shoe size in the region and all my option were hideous or out of stock. Eventually, I made my way to the Sports Authority on Jeff Davis Highway where I again struck out in the shoe the department. But in the hat department I found this:



Strictly from a marketing point of view, this seems an odd product for Adidas to sell. I get that Soviet nostalgia will manifest itself in a variety of ways. And I get that most people walking by this aisle won’t take a second look. But it can be argued that several million people died under the image on this cap. (To drive the point home, CCCP was printed on the back) The hammer and sickle still represents something powerful to a lot of people so I can see it being used to deliver some artistic message. But from Adidas? At Sports Authority? I’m not seeing how that works.

i feel like one word could describe this whole post

Remember when I went to see the Jonas Brothers that one time? It wasn’t because I wanted to see the Jonas Brothers; it was because I was a chaperone for the daughter of a friend. The Verizon Center can be a dangerous place for an impressionable young woman and I also wanted to see the Jonas Brothers.

Anyway, I’ve become some kind of sounding board about all things middle school for this girl’s mother. The latest being her use of the word “fail” to describe anything that she doesn’t like. Since, it took me nearly 45 minutes to explain to my father what a LOLCat was, I decided to just cut to the chase and say it was new, harmless slang. The mother seemed satisfied.

The girl was also recently allowed to have a cell phone with the condition that it was to undergo random spot checks to make sure all photo and texting was “sext”-free. Apparently, kids like sex these days. My friend can demand the phone at any time and conduct a detailed inspection. Unfortunately, her daughter had taken to locking the phone when it was not in her immediate possession in an effort to stymie scrutiny after she had goes to bed.

But what four letter word could a 12 year old possibly use a password? Perhaps one that she had been recently using to describe everything she disliked. I don’t know, something like FAIL?

Oh yeah. It was FAIL.

Do seventh graders get irony?


-----

On a related note, the students from our local private boarding school have taken to doing their drugs on Sunday afternoons in the alley behind our post office. Being the weekend, no one’s back there except pot smokers and this guy walking his dog.

I want to call the police. Not because I’m uncool or a narc or want them to get in trouble. In fact, I hope they don’t get caught. I just want to watch them run. Being chased by the cops is an important part of growing up. And I want to be part of that, for them.

Remove the hat, son

I went to a lily-white-assed high school in the suburbs. Before arriving freshman year, we warned that there was a new principal and that’d we better be watch out. Rumor had it he used to teach at an inner city school and didn’t take any crap. It was the kind of school that Morgan Freeman would the principal at. People got shot for their Starter jackets. And he was suspended by the city superintendent for refusing to allow an accused rapist to return to class before his trial. He also was supposed to walk with a limp because he hassled some gang members so they threw him out of a window for revenge.

Surprisingly, all the rumors turned out to be true. He was a hard-assed principal from a bad-assed high school. Fortunately for him, though, he faced none of those issues when he arrived in the suburbs. Besides the normal frustrations presented to any high school principal, the only ongoing issue he dealt with resulted from his No Hat regulation. We were told this was a residual policy relating to his views on gang colors but it meant that any hat worn in the hallways was to be confiscated. Naturally, it became a game.

By the time senior year rolled around we’d become each other’s foils. Let’s just say he did not stand for sthe leniencies that I was afforded by some of the teachers and coaches. But the levels of animosity never reached the levels of his old school. The most abuse he received has a few bad impersonations. Also, I published an underground newspaper mocking his policies that resulted in the senior class thinking school was canceled for the day.

He left the year after I graduated and took a job at a school in Maryland. The company line was that he wanted to be closer to his family. I think he missed me and wanted a new challenge.

It seems he got one. According to the police, two students at his new school were a day away from breaching a gas main, throwing a bomb into his office and blowing up the building.

Fucking amateurs.

this is what we talk about when we talk about love

The N: The word "orgy" is overused as a descriptive. I don't think you should be allowed to use that word unless you actually PARTICIPATED in an orgy. Or in, you know, an orgy of blood.

The G: What?

The N: You know. Like either been in an orgy-orgy, or been involved in some kind of serious mass-murdering in a small confined space. Like an elevator. A violence orgy! You can only use the word "orgy" if you have ever participated in one of those two situations. Those are the only times the term "orgy" would be okay.

The G: You know, your life rules get weirder as you get older. Also, you're picturing elevator doors opening and blood streaming out right now, aren't you?

The N: Yes.


This conversation later devolved into what it would be like to have Tony Shaloub star in a remake of "The Shining", but by that point I was laughing too hard to really remember how that came up.

Not with a bang but an oink

Here we go.

It was pretty fancy too. With embroidery and shit.

what to buy for the woman you hate

Holy wows. Did you know that Jane Seymour was designing t-and-a jewelry for Kay? Yikes. "If your heart is open, love will always find it's way in."

Apparently the way in is through your diamond butt.

Vegas Roundup #2456

i think last week was my 17th or 20th time in Las Vegas, I've lost count. It will serve you well to know that the most interesting thing that happened there was an IM I had with the DCeiver about "bloggers lounges", my ideas for JMU/LARPing-themed fantasy novels, and the price of Lauren Conrad jersey dresses.

At least my flights were on time and I didn't get stuck in Memphis with a bunch of cowboy-hat wearing Frenchmen this year!

I'm home now. We'll never speak of this again.

terms I am sick of: somali pirates, hipster grifters, teabagginses

Something I just told Amanda: too bad this didn't happen in the autumn, right? Because Halloween in Brooklyn, oh holy god, can you imagine? It would be like Thomas Crowne Affair on the streets, except with bad sharpie tattoos and black pixie wigs.

I'm more of a Scrabble guy, anyways.

A good thing and bad thing happened on the Metro today. The bad happened when I lost my umbrella and got drenched. The good happened when I saw a man in a tri-cornered cap, also drenched, on his way to protest the underhanded way in which the British East India Company attempted to circumvent the importation of black market Dutch tea and the tax that resulted from the trade. Or so I gathered from his incoherent rambling.

Best of all, though, was the realization that as I hustled through Union Station to catch the Metro was that I had magically stumbled into the US Monopoly Championship!

Behold! Weirdos!



I paused for a few seconds to take a picture or two before I realized that watching other people playing Monopoly is as boring as you’d imagine. But it did settle an important argument.



There are three incredible things in the above picture. First, EEEEEP! It’s the real life Monopoly Man with mustache and monocle! Monocle! Second, on the right, is the 2009 Championship trophy featuring. It’s pretty boring, you ask me. Real Baltic Avenue. But on the right is the original trophy for the first Monopoly Championship. It’s got heft. It’s got the Monopoly board etched into it. And most importantly, it’s got the race car on top.

And we all know race car = bad ass.

Sounds like Eureka? Come on.

Things that make me a good American.

1. I’m lazy
2. I’m fat
3. I don’t know dick about our local elections.

This wouldn’t be a bid deal except we live in Alexandria and our fine city holds a local election about twice a month. I’m not sure if they are special elections or primary elections or city council elections or what. I just know they happen all the time and you never hear about them until the weekend before because about 1000 placards appear in the medians of King Street and the roads leading to the polling place.



Like this weekend. I assume there’s an election tomorrow since these things are everyplace. Or maybe next month. Who knows? There are at least 25 people running for some sort of office in Alexandria but it’s not the first Tuesday in November so who cares? And there are so many of these placards with so many names they become irrelevant because you can’t remember any of them. With two exceptions…

1. Del Pepper – Based on the name, I’m assuming Del is a Southern, overweight Sheriff constantly whipping his bald head with a red handkerchief. In reality, she’s a lady. A fancy lady. She also, as far as I can tell, runs in every election Alexandria holds.

2. This guy.



This is Rich and he’s and independent candidate. As an independent candidate he has no party backing and a limited budget. So limited, in fact, that he can’t afford signs with printing on both sides. That means you have to drive all the way down the street and make a u-turn when you can’t believe you saw a sign with just a picture of some dude’s face and his first name. Or maybe it's his economic status.

Obviously, the point of these sign is to draw attention to the candidate via a 6 second drive-by so that the motorist can make an informed decision when they get to the voting booth. That is why this display, although clearly light-hearted, is incredibly effective. A guy named Rich is running for City Council and the election is May 5. Done. Like I said, I have no clue who else is running because all the other sign blockin' out the scenery and breakin' my mind. It’s wallpaper.

So if I were going to vote next month (which I won’t because voting is for suckers) I’d vote for whats-his-name. The guy on the signs with the face. Looks like Jared from Subway and wants to sync all the city’s red lights. God. What’s his name again? Del Peppers, maybe?

dp

Mattos sent me a link to Dirty Projectors "Stillness is the Move," and it's great for real. For some reason it reminds me of what the Jets could be like today, if Elizabeth got real into funky stuff and helium.

God updates in gmail status for Easter

He also thinks Twitter is a sin.


Which it is.

mj

if you aren't reading my pal mike's listening & talking blog you are missing out on some solid musical musings.

Spoiler Alert: When Ross was in China he started dating some chick

SPOILER ALERT: I’m going to tell someone they can go fuck themselves at the end of this post.



It usually takes me days to write on this stupid blog. For instance, I started the Frank Herzog/State of Play post a month ago. I usually get distracted by old Law and Order re-runs like the one that’s on now about Ice-T busting up a meth lab in a day care center. But right now I’m responding to something I just heard on NPR 2 minutes ago.

They got dozens of complaints yesterday after they reported that Kal Penn is leaving House to work for the Admin now that his character had committed suicide. Folks were upset since they had Tivoed the show and the Penn offing had been ruined before they had a chance to watch. They complained that NPR (see comments)should have prefaced the report with a ******SPOILER ALERT****8***.

That’s wrong. Spoiler alerts expire the moment the television show ends. They are extended as a courtesy by those who have special access to a scripted show’s outcome and could subsequently ruin that for other people. If you choose to record the show to watch later you cannot expect all discussion of that show to be put on hold at your convenience. The only exception is for sporting events or other shows which air live.

Those who still tape shows with analogue recording devices came to this realization about 20 years ago. Currently, DVR saturation is only at 27% in the United States. I would need it to cross into the 60%-70% area before I could accept the type of spoiler alert demands that are currently being requested. If Entertainment Weekly or TV Guide or another one of our television ethics gatekeepers wants to establish a statute of limitations of, say, 3 days before we are allowed to talk about things that have already happened, then I will live with it. Until then, however, I maintain the embargo ends when the credits roll.

In addition, NPR is primarily a news outfit. They report the news. And even though it’s fluffy as shit, Kal Penn moving in to the Old Executive Office Building qualifies as news. Who cares if we have to find out that his character had to kill himself to make that happen. It’s a goddamned TV show.

Bottom line, I have no sympathy for those who get upset when their shows are ruined by public discussion after the show is over.

In fact, those people can go fuck themselves.




(EDIT FROM THE G: WAIT KAL PENN OFFS HIMSELF?????!?!???!?!??!! I hate you so hard.)