The Argonian Power Movement

Remember that election that decent citizens voted in back in November? Well the folks in Minnesota still don’t know who won their senate race. The race has gone to an automatic recount since the two main candidates (Norm Coleman and Al Franken) are less than 200 votes apart.

But who cares about those jackasses. The real story is about the exciting write-in candidates. NPR has coverage about how arduous the recount has been and how each side challenges every vote that the other gets. Anyone who remembers the Bush vs. Gore election probably has a good idea of what’s going on. Here is one of the actual ballots that are being contested!



Who knew that the lizard people had an active political party in Minnesota!? As a huge supported of lizard people, or Argonians as they are officially known, I am thrilled to see them making a power grab in the North Star State.

This ballot was initially thrown out for “over voting” since the voter filled in the circle by Franken’s name and wrote in “Lizard People.” But obviously this is just a cheap political trick to deprive the Lizard People of votes. Not for Senator, obviously, but in all the other races. While I won’t say I agree with their choice, this particular voter obviously voted for Al Franken. (Why vote for Al when you can have an Argonian!?!?) They were merely including the Lizard People in the group of people running for senate. As the rest of the ballot clearly indicates, the voter was more than capable of writing in “Lizard People” and filling in the circle when they indented to vote for Lizard People.

I suspect that the reason this vote was thrown out is the two party system feels threatened by a third scaly party of bipedal reptiles with super human strength. Well not me. I fully support all Argonians running for office. I would love to volunteer for their organizations by knocking stuff off tables, tail whipping potential votes, installing public sun rocks, or what have you.

My eye are open now people. It’s time we greet our salmonella bearing politicians with open arms and our full electoral support.

Dismissible Curmudgeon Rant

I just opened the latest version of Bon Appetite and spent the next few minutes swearing and throwing away little cardstock mailers that fall out of magazines like dandruff. I hate them. And I hate the magazine for including them. I would gladly pay an extra fee for each magazine if I didn’t have to deal with all the crap that falls out of it. Even magazines like Cuisine at Home and Cook’s Illustrated which claim to be ad-free are infested with the damnable cardstock hell spawn. Has anyone actually saved one of those and sent them in? (If so, you’re part of the problem. Hang your head in shame).

Dawn says she would gladly pay an extra fee to receive fashion magazines without fragrance samples. No wonder either… each one of those magazines reeks to high heaven.

I was tempted to make the claim that I get upset when the advertising in my media distracts from the content. But I don’t think that’s the case, or rather, that is just more of a symptom. I think as I get older I become ever less tolerant of whatever crazy thing I decide is irritating me and think I should be able to buy my way out of it. I suppose that I am the ultimate product of a consumer based economy.

Thinking back I seem to remember going on a rant after the last time Dawn and I bought airline tickets. We were picking out the seats and I was distressed that the back corner of the plane was already taken. While I often complain about sitting in the back of the plane because of the noise, and having to stare at the crotches of people waiting to use the lavatory, and the fact that you are literally the last person off the plane when trying to make a connection, I kind of like that you limit the number of people that can sit around you. In the middle of the plane you are exposed on all sides. In the back of the plane, in a two person row, there are only two people sitting in front of you and one person next two you across the aisle. That guarantees that a small kid will not be kicking my seat the entire trip….plus the odds of having to sit next to a baby are drastically reduced.

I believe I was telling Dawn that I thought that airlines ought to offer to charge a fee to guarantee you will not sit next to a minor. When people buy tickets they have to reveal whether or not they are traveling with a minor. I haven’t looked up the statistics, but I think that most passengers aren’t minors, so the odds are pretty good that I won’t have to sit next to a minor….but I’m willing to pay an extra $5 to take the odds from pretty good to really good. I thought it seemed like a good deal for the airline companies. In most cases they won’t have to do anything to collect and extra $5 fee. And they like fees. All they really have to do is invent a new color of seat to show that some seat options are restricted to people not traveling with minors…which is the majority of travelers (I suspect).

Dawn pointed out that it would cause logistical issues when the plane started to get full and the airline wouldn’t want the bad press of kicking little kids of off planes. I’m a reasonable (if not intolerant) guy. I acknowledge the fact that they need to serve people with kids too. My solution was that if I paid $5 to not sit next to a kid (and I’m talking left, right, front and back seats) and they place a kid there then the airline company refund me $20. I think it’s a good solution. It doesn’t tie the hands of the airline company in the situation of a full plane, and at the same time acknowledges that seating a kid next to me is suboptimal and gives me a $15 “we’re sorry” when it invariable happens.

Whoa, where did that come from? I guess I’ve been storing up my curmudgeon delusional ranting.

Oh, how you people disappoint me.

I used to think that knitters were industrious people. I marveled at how they were able to capture the quiet moments in between events in their day and transform them in knitwear goods. I was impressed by their seemingly literal interpretation of the saying “idle hands are the devil’s tools.” Oh, how I used to respect and marvel at their commitment to efficiency and productivity.

Of course after seeing Christen Meindertsma’s work I now realize what a lazy bunch of underachievers knitter really are… and I’m not just talking about the social trend knitters, knitting one day, quitting the next. Even the hardcore thug knitters 4 life folks have been diminished in my eyes. You see, I’ve had my expectations adjusted.

If you’re not working on room-sized project then you’re not really knitting. Give it rest already slackers. If you're not ready to step up to the big game put the needles away. The devil needs to get some work done.

They'll Never Read L337

Dawn and I were listening to the radio on Saturday and a story came on about a telephone interpreter. People call her when they need someone to translate between English and Spanish. She specializes in medical terminology and is often used by people in hospitals to communicate symptoms or medical directions.

One of the stories she was sharing was about a pair of teenaged parents who just had a new born baby. When a nurse visited them at their house she found the baby wrapped up in all sorts of clothes even though it was sweating. She used the telephone interpreter to ask them why they had dressed the baby up so thoroughly in such sweltering heat. Their answer was that was how baby Jesus was dressed. Solid logic there.

The nurse told the couple that they needed to monitor the temperature of the baby since it had a fever. The couple revealed that they were illiterate. The nurse said they just needed to use a thermometer. The couple reiterated that they illiterate and were unable to even read numbers. The nurse was flabbergasted. The rest of the story is unimportant.

So here’s what surprised me - there were people who couldn’t read numbers. I get being unable to read words – that involves bundling together letters into words and making sense out of them. I even get being mathematically literate…but reading numbers? It seems like the chances to associate the symbols with natural numbers are so numerous that it’s bound to happen if you’re alive and conscious for twenty years. I would think you should at least recognize the symbols for the first ten integers if you’re counting or have ever bought anything with money.

What surprised me even more is the casual way in which Dawn acknowledged that such people exist, and that their existence was less than surprising. She was blasé about it. I was gob smacked. Have you ever known anyone who couldn’t recognize a number I asked? She said didn’t know anyone, but that was hardly proof that such an individual should be surprising. I tried to point out all the different ways that a person would likely become accustomed to numbers and she casually swatted them away. She was unmoved. I grew increasingly more agitated with her stance that people could be completely oblivious to counting and symbols. She argued that they would just stop trying, that numbers would be noise in their environment. I don’t buy it.

So am I underestimating the lack of cognitive ability of my fellow man? Has anyone heard of such a thing as someone who cannot recognize numbers? Is Dawn right (yet again)? I sure hope not. I prefer people that cool and self-assured about their stance to be dead wrong.

A cat of privilege

I wonder if Riblet ever sits around and marvels at what she’s achieved. I doubt it.

She started out life, as far as I know, as a chubby cat in an Indiana Petsmart. I have no idea what her pre-Petsmart history is – and neither does Petsmart – they lost her documents. The papers they gave us belonged to a completely different cat which the vet (that was referenced in the papers) kindly told us. Riblet won’t tell us how she ended up in Petsmart, but I harbor a dark suspicion she was kicked out of her previous home for being an evil, grumpy, mommy hater. Just a guess.

Perhaps the fake cat documents Petsmart provided us are like a fake passport. Riblet adopted a false identity and decided to start a new life, the cat equivalent of the witness protection program or being an undercover spy. Whatever the case may be, in her time with us, Riblet has developed a taste for the finer things in life. A few of years ago she discovered electric blankets; a deep and instant bond was formed. Anything that provides warmth and a soft sleeping surface is ok in Riblet’s book (mommy laps need not apply).

Just a year or so ago Riblet discovered memory-foam beds. Once she got the knack that the bed would actually contour and form to her - she was hooked. Often she will purr with glee that “the mattress remembers me!” Dawn will try and correct her and tell her that’s not why it’s called memory foam, but Riblet will opt for unconsciousness and ignore her mom’s explanations. Sometimes Dawn says stuff.

Recently Riblet has discovered cashmere. Dawn had an old cashmere sweater that developed a hole in it that she donated to one of Riblet’s beds. At first Riblet wanted nothing to do with the mommy reeking bedding. Once the distasteful remembrances of Dawn dissipated Riblet gave the cashmere bedding a try in earnest. The verdict? Oh My Gawd… Riblet loves cashmere. She spends a minimum of 45 minutes a day sitting in the bed and kneading her tiny little fists into the soft soft cashmere. This makes her a very happy cat indeed.

Last night Dawn and I started a fire. Before long we found Riblet sitting in my chair looking very pleased with herself. As if to say, “lounging in a leather club chair by a fire is something I was born to do.” Her manner betrayed not an air of gratitude for nice things we provide for her, but one of expectation and birthright. Riblet has ascended the ranks of feline destinies to a sheltered life of comfort and privilege, and the good life appears to suite her.

Head in the Clouds

I know what I want from a cell phone. Here’s a hint – iPhone it is not. Not that I’m knocking iPhone, it’s just that I dream bigger….and I don’t care how touch screeny a device is.

I want a cell phone connected to a cloud.

For explanatory purposes I’m going to describe my ideal cell phone tied into Google technology…because it’s a popular cloud that we all know and love.

My ideal cell phone would access the exact same dataset that my Google Gmail account and Google Calendar access. If I update my contact or calendar information while using my desktop in a web browser - then I want that new information to be instantly available on my cell phone. I don’t want to have to sync it – I want to reference the exact information so that there is only one authoritative version.

I want my ideal cell phone to have biometric capabilities. I want to unlock it by placing my finger on it. When I place my finger on my phone the phone knows I’m holding it and I can get to all my contact information. If someone else has my phone, ideally they won’t have my finger, and they will not be able to access any of my personal contact/calendar information.

If I give my phone to someone else they should be able to put their finger on it and the phone will go out to the cloud and retrieve their information. By decoupling the information from the phone anyone’s phone will be exactly like your phone. Pick up anyone’s phone, scan your finger and your calendar and contact information will be there. Give it back to them and it’s their phone again. Imagine how handy that would be. You’ll never be without all your information.

Eventually the cloud will hold more information than just contact and calendar information. It will hold files, music, media, etc. All of it sitting there just waiting for you to access it. The only real differentiator between phones will be what methods of inputs they offer and how much viewing surface you get. The phone will be reduced to simple input and output. What it inputs and outputs will not be the concern of the cell phone company.

I wonder how long I’ll have to wait?

Now TV will suck

Dawn and I finished watching The Wire last night. It’s five seasons long, and for my money, it’s the best five seasons of TV drama that there is. I know Dawn and I have implored everyone we know to watch it…and at this point if you haven’t heeded our advice - then you are dumb. No seriously, wallow in shame and ignorance as you squander your TV entertainment. I have no pity for you.

I really respect a show that is willing to go out while it’s still going strong and not waiting until they’ve run their universe into the ground. The Wire does just that. They could have easily wringed a few more seasons out of it if they wanted to.

It’s probably a good thing that NetFlix doesn’t offer the show as part of their play on demand service. That could be dangerous to adults with other responsibilities. By forcing you to wait for the individual DVDs they force you to pace yourself. Of course now I have the predicament that my NetFlix envelopes won’t be greeted with unbridled enthusiasm. I’ve kind of grown used to the fact that each mail drop DVD was going to be pure entertainment gold. I guess I’ll have to readjust to an endless parade of crap I’ve never heard of.