Wednesday, March 10, 2004
ALL HAIL THE GREAT MARTIAN BUNNY!!!
That's this guy, in case you don't follow space-news. Isn't he cute! I'm sure all that cuteness comes from living in an oxygen-free, dead environment. I find it a bit ironic that bunnies are actually aliens though. Seems rather anti-climactic, but still has a kind of Douglas Adams tilt on it. I have a mental image of armies of rabbit mechanoid walkers suddenly exploding out of warrens all over the globe and enslaving the world, ala War of the Worlds. Only in my version the rabbits adopt me as the Earthan Diplomat to Mars and I get to go live on the moon while they nuke the Earth to bits and dance on the ashes. My doctor says I'm sane.
My day
My workday is defined as "the time where I do things that aren't related to my breaks." Seriously, I have come to the conclusion that my day at work is essentially the time between when I get there, the Great 9:30 Coffee Break, lunch, afternoon tea, and my leaving. During that time, I do... stuff. The Great 9:30 Coffee Break is noteworthy though, since at basically half-past nine on the dot, my whole department goes down to the cafeteria to have coffee and bagels/cinnamon buns/breakfast for about a half-hour. It's strange, but it also means I have at most 1.75 hours in the morning to try not to fall asleep. After the break, no guarantees, but I can usually stay awake until lunch at about 11:30 or so. Read the paper, and then coast until mid-afternoon when I usually stop working to make a cup of tea. It sounds kinda dumb, but it's what I do. The fact that I entered the job with at least 60 teabags in my cube and I decided to try to finish them, one day at a time is all the reasoning I need. I also started my job with about 14 packets of ramen noodles, of which I have had 2. They're all mushroom and veggie flavor see, and I really can't see the point of eating vegetable-flavoured grains. The whole point of making things out of wheat and such is to provide a companion with which to accompany meat into my gullet so that my stomach doesn't get bored. Also, there's some instant coffee, some cereal, some microwavable cookies that taste remarkably like soggy cardboard, bottled water and some Pepsi. I think my predecessor lived at the office. Might be why I have to dodge the net when I try to leave in the afternoon.
[insert Robotanian national anthem]
I figured out the mystery behind the Robotanian embassy I pass on the way to fencing. See, for the longest time, I've been passing this big evil-looking house (it's all Victorian and old-school architecture) with a mean-looking black fence and gate, and these Black Ops style SUVs out front. From the flag, which is a yellow machete, star and half-cog on red and black, I could only assume this to be the Republic of Robotania, as publicized in Scary Go Round. Since they're main export is dismay, I didn't bother investigating further for fear of getting attacked by robots.
Then I passed the place a day or two ago and saw the sign proclaiming it to be the Angolan embassy. Total letdown, since it basically excludes the possibility of robots, but they still have a bitchin' flag. As a side note, I've been meaning to post about this place for weeks now, but kept forgetting. And while I'm on the topic of memory (however briefly), despite what you might think, having a near-photographically perfect memory is not as good as you would think. I mean, sure, you remember everyone's name, and can ask them about how the thing they did last week with the person went, and you never have to study for exams since the information just flocks into your brain and stays there, but it's not all about that. I mean, I get to remember the majority of stupid things I've said to people, and I have to put up with the forgetful all the time, and usually, that's just about everyone. You know the slightly-senile great-uncle thrice removed you have that always forgets your name, and loses his glasses on the top of his head and you always have to talk down to him about it otherwise he gets angry and such? I do this every day, and it gets irritating. I mean, if I can meet you once, listen to you talk to someone for about five minutes and remember that you have a hedgehog named Tumbles or that you work for the SPCA and you know people who work for Blizzard, why can't you do the same? (Note, I those are things about real people I know. Even the Blizzard bit.) Yeah, yeah, not everyone can do that, and some people have to literally write reminders to themselves to remind people to remind them about things, but that's not in my sphere of comprehension. It'd be like explaining walking to a fish. Foreign concept. Argh. So that's my venting for today.
Tsetse! Tsetsetsetsetsetsetsetsetsetse!
Unless you're an entomologist, this is total gibberish. For added fun, try singing or rapping some of these paragraphs. I tells ya, total breakthrough single buried in there somewhere. Maybe translate to Spanish and then back to English?
Neil Young is pretty cool. I mean, for a 60 year old rocker guy who's greatest accomplishment (in my eyes at least) up to now was Keep On Rocking In The Free World, he has done quite a bunch of neat stuff. Apparantly he's reinvented his music a bunch of times, and even got sued by his own record company for not making music that was "Neil Young-y" enough. Kewl.
BAD BAD BAD. As if the whole copyright situation wasn't a total farce, now they want to patent information? Hello! People! There is a line here as to what you can claim as property and what you cannot! I don't know where it is, but I think you're getting close to crossing it! I'm starting to understand the perspective of the guy who thinks he is from the future when he says that our time was remembered for a lot of bad reasons, including the total selfishness of people in general.
So yeah. I'm going to go do dishes and probably play Maximo. It's stupid-hard, but oh so fun. Also, some guy at my University was stabbed a bunch the other day. On that note, I leave. ¶ 5:25 p.m.
That's this guy, in case you don't follow space-news. Isn't he cute! I'm sure all that cuteness comes from living in an oxygen-free, dead environment. I find it a bit ironic that bunnies are actually aliens though. Seems rather anti-climactic, but still has a kind of Douglas Adams tilt on it. I have a mental image of armies of rabbit mechanoid walkers suddenly exploding out of warrens all over the globe and enslaving the world, ala War of the Worlds. Only in my version the rabbits adopt me as the Earthan Diplomat to Mars and I get to go live on the moon while they nuke the Earth to bits and dance on the ashes. My doctor says I'm sane.
My day
My workday is defined as "the time where I do things that aren't related to my breaks." Seriously, I have come to the conclusion that my day at work is essentially the time between when I get there, the Great 9:30 Coffee Break, lunch, afternoon tea, and my leaving. During that time, I do... stuff. The Great 9:30 Coffee Break is noteworthy though, since at basically half-past nine on the dot, my whole department goes down to the cafeteria to have coffee and bagels/cinnamon buns/breakfast for about a half-hour. It's strange, but it also means I have at most 1.75 hours in the morning to try not to fall asleep. After the break, no guarantees, but I can usually stay awake until lunch at about 11:30 or so. Read the paper, and then coast until mid-afternoon when I usually stop working to make a cup of tea. It sounds kinda dumb, but it's what I do. The fact that I entered the job with at least 60 teabags in my cube and I decided to try to finish them, one day at a time is all the reasoning I need. I also started my job with about 14 packets of ramen noodles, of which I have had 2. They're all mushroom and veggie flavor see, and I really can't see the point of eating vegetable-flavoured grains. The whole point of making things out of wheat and such is to provide a companion with which to accompany meat into my gullet so that my stomach doesn't get bored. Also, there's some instant coffee, some cereal, some microwavable cookies that taste remarkably like soggy cardboard, bottled water and some Pepsi. I think my predecessor lived at the office. Might be why I have to dodge the net when I try to leave in the afternoon.
[insert Robotanian national anthem]
I figured out the mystery behind the Robotanian embassy I pass on the way to fencing. See, for the longest time, I've been passing this big evil-looking house (it's all Victorian and old-school architecture) with a mean-looking black fence and gate, and these Black Ops style SUVs out front. From the flag, which is a yellow machete, star and half-cog on red and black, I could only assume this to be the Republic of Robotania, as publicized in Scary Go Round. Since they're main export is dismay, I didn't bother investigating further for fear of getting attacked by robots.
Then I passed the place a day or two ago and saw the sign proclaiming it to be the Angolan embassy. Total letdown, since it basically excludes the possibility of robots, but they still have a bitchin' flag. As a side note, I've been meaning to post about this place for weeks now, but kept forgetting. And while I'm on the topic of memory (however briefly), despite what you might think, having a near-photographically perfect memory is not as good as you would think. I mean, sure, you remember everyone's name, and can ask them about how the thing they did last week with the person went, and you never have to study for exams since the information just flocks into your brain and stays there, but it's not all about that. I mean, I get to remember the majority of stupid things I've said to people, and I have to put up with the forgetful all the time, and usually, that's just about everyone. You know the slightly-senile great-uncle thrice removed you have that always forgets your name, and loses his glasses on the top of his head and you always have to talk down to him about it otherwise he gets angry and such? I do this every day, and it gets irritating. I mean, if I can meet you once, listen to you talk to someone for about five minutes and remember that you have a hedgehog named Tumbles or that you work for the SPCA and you know people who work for Blizzard, why can't you do the same? (Note, I those are things about real people I know. Even the Blizzard bit.) Yeah, yeah, not everyone can do that, and some people have to literally write reminders to themselves to remind people to remind them about things, but that's not in my sphere of comprehension. It'd be like explaining walking to a fish. Foreign concept. Argh. So that's my venting for today.
Tsetse! Tsetsetsetsetsetsetsetsetsetse!
Unless you're an entomologist, this is total gibberish. For added fun, try singing or rapping some of these paragraphs. I tells ya, total breakthrough single buried in there somewhere. Maybe translate to Spanish and then back to English?
Neil Young is pretty cool. I mean, for a 60 year old rocker guy who's greatest accomplishment (in my eyes at least) up to now was Keep On Rocking In The Free World, he has done quite a bunch of neat stuff. Apparantly he's reinvented his music a bunch of times, and even got sued by his own record company for not making music that was "Neil Young-y" enough. Kewl.
BAD BAD BAD. As if the whole copyright situation wasn't a total farce, now they want to patent information? Hello! People! There is a line here as to what you can claim as property and what you cannot! I don't know where it is, but I think you're getting close to crossing it! I'm starting to understand the perspective of the guy who thinks he is from the future when he says that our time was remembered for a lot of bad reasons, including the total selfishness of people in general.
So yeah. I'm going to go do dishes and probably play Maximo. It's stupid-hard, but oh so fun. Also, some guy at my University was stabbed a bunch the other day. On that note, I leave. ¶ 5:25 p.m.
