This makes me happy.
I have a couple of guys working with me on a project whose names are Bob and Doug. It doesn't help that they are both a little slow on the uptake and one is Canadian.
Walking down memory lane via Google, I discovered this factoid about the SCTV puerile purveyors of the federally mandated "Canadian content" that was Bob and Ted's Great White North (from a site devoted to beer):
Canada's fastest supercomputer, used to simulate the collisions of galaxies and the movement of supermassive black holes, is named "McKenzie," after the nefarious brothers. It cost $900,000 to build, which, at the current exchange rate, equals roughly 40,900 Molson beers, sold wholesale.
You can read "important Bob and Doug episodes" here.
Friday, April 22, 2005
Monday, April 18, 2005
A Chance of Inspiration with a Steady Downpour of Frustration by Nightfall
Rest in peace, Marla Ruzicka. My coworker M. remembered you fondly-- he organized your first trip to Cuba, when you were 17. Your friends at Global Exchange are gathering today to share memories about you. I don't think I ever met you, but I very well might have-- and that is something I can be proud of: we ran in circles not that far afield from eachother. Although, reading about you, I must say your field looks like it was always a helluva lot more dangerous than mine. But I was a early-teen visitor of nonprofit offices and collector of pamphlets and subscriber to The Nation and The Economist and Greenpeace and Amnesty International-- but I couldn't get started as fast as hard as you did, since I was living in North Nosebleed, and you were in Northern California. You will be remembered among the bright young stars that fell on my watch:
Terry Freitas who died helping the U'wa defend themselves against big oil while volunteering for Project Underground, where I was also then a volunteer; and
Rachel Corrie, another SF Bay Area leftie -- she died when she tried to stop an Israeli bulldozer; and
...the not-yet-gone:
Lori Berenson - who was a roommates with a dear friend of mine when she was in college. I imagine her decorating her jail cell in Peru and thinking about her dorm room at MIT... how far she has gone to stick to her beliefs.
Tonight: more inspiration from the Goldman Awards! Where (as per usual) my organization "knows" some of the awardees.
Rest in peace, Marla Ruzicka. My coworker M. remembered you fondly-- he organized your first trip to Cuba, when you were 17. Your friends at Global Exchange are gathering today to share memories about you. I don't think I ever met you, but I very well might have-- and that is something I can be proud of: we ran in circles not that far afield from eachother. Although, reading about you, I must say your field looks like it was always a helluva lot more dangerous than mine. But I was a early-teen visitor of nonprofit offices and collector of pamphlets and subscriber to The Nation and The Economist and Greenpeace and Amnesty International-- but I couldn't get started as fast as hard as you did, since I was living in North Nosebleed, and you were in Northern California. You will be remembered among the bright young stars that fell on my watch:
Terry Freitas who died helping the U'wa defend themselves against big oil while volunteering for Project Underground, where I was also then a volunteer; and
Rachel Corrie, another SF Bay Area leftie -- she died when she tried to stop an Israeli bulldozer; and
...the not-yet-gone:
Lori Berenson - who was a roommates with a dear friend of mine when she was in college. I imagine her decorating her jail cell in Peru and thinking about her dorm room at MIT... how far she has gone to stick to her beliefs.
Tonight: more inspiration from the Goldman Awards! Where (as per usual) my organization "knows" some of the awardees.
Friday, April 15, 2005
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Lovin' Those Gmail Ads
I have a rendezvous with a web design person -- who I've never met in person-- about a project, and he wrote me the following magic eight words:
And here are the headlines of the links-- based on those eight words-- that Gmail helpfully provided in the margin:
I have a rendezvous with a web design person -- who I've never met in person-- about a project, and he wrote me the following magic eight words:
- You can’t miss me. I have green hair.
And here are the headlines of the links-- based on those eight words-- that Gmail helpfully provided in the margin:
- Remi Cuticle Virgin Hair
- No more Chlorine Buildup
- METROPOLITAN DIGEST
Kansas City Star - 15 hours ago
A baby was left at Truman Medical Center on Tuesday afternoon, and ... - Police seek info after body found
Townsville Bulletin - Apr 12, 2005
The body of the woman, in her early 40s was found at 1.30pm at Rowes ...
Everything is Turgid
I am sorry, but I find this sentence hard to forgive, even in a book with brilliant moments and an interesting premise, and especially as the opening line of a chapter.
I'm sure other people found Jonathan Safran Foer's "Everything is Illuminated" to be a work of unprecedented genius, but I'm here to tell you, it can only be appreciated if you can ignore that his Sasha speaks some horribly fake Ringlish (or Ruslish, however you like), and his non-Sasha narrator spews out some real stomach churners, like that one above.
As I bounce gleefully into the new Eoin Colfer, The Artemis Fowl Files, with my favorite juvie-lit heroine Captain Holly Short!
I am sorry, but I find this sentence hard to forgive, even in a book with brilliant moments and an interesting premise, and especially as the opening line of a chapter.
She used her thumbs to pull the lace panties from her waist, allowing her engorged genitalia the teasing satisfaction of the humid summer updrafts, which brought with them the smells of burdock, birch, burning rubber, and beef broth, and would now pass on her particular animal scent to northward noses, like a message transmitted through a line of schoolchildren in a childish game, so that the final one to smell might lift his head and say, Borsht?
I'm sure other people found Jonathan Safran Foer's "Everything is Illuminated" to be a work of unprecedented genius, but I'm here to tell you, it can only be appreciated if you can ignore that his Sasha speaks some horribly fake Ringlish (or Ruslish, however you like), and his non-Sasha narrator spews out some real stomach churners, like that one above.
As I bounce gleefully into the new Eoin Colfer, The Artemis Fowl Files, with my favorite juvie-lit heroine Captain Holly Short!