Nevermind what is important to the Professor

Nobody likes the sadness poll, and nobody is voting in it, and nobody has visited the workshop since the Professor opened the voting. Please forget it ever existed. Don't be sad.

Kiss me. That's an Order.

I am the King of Balls.

They love me in the Philippines. Little carts with green signs order people to kiss me.

I must experience this in person. I will travel to Manila in the coming months where I hope to get kisses, and balls, and hope not to get hepatitis. I may even invest.

I am not kidding. I am the King of balls.

We have photos of Courtney Love!

Did you know this? Where are they? Are they really here, in the Workshop?

Postillion, what do you know about this?

Good job, King of Balls.

Except for that double posting, you are golden.

See comments number 23 and 24.

A footnote to a life.

Rest in Peace, David Foster Wallace. We love you. The world will miss you terribly. Thank you for your colorful multifaceted writing, for reminding me to enjoy life again and again over the course of two decades. You are wonderful.

Sussman.

I am the King of Balls. This man is an idiot. See below for a more eloquent discussion of same.

Rant: Stupidity, Please Mock

Well, we all knew it...the blog is just like the world in revealing the many aspects of human nature. But it happens to be different than the world in that any individual can have their ignorance and stupidity crystallized and revealed for the rest of the world in the way of all fast media.

Therefore, without further ado, I have the displeasure of outing this particularly self-insular and self-centered piece of writing by a young man who had never heard of David Foster Wallace until Wallace's recent sad death.

On the blog, as on in the real world, not knowing something doesn't always imply that the person is not famous; it can just be a pointer at one's own lack of knowledge in certain arenas. Given that all of us are necessarily limited in knowledge due to the limitations of the human brain and time on this earth (I fully admit my ignorance of all things related to pop culture, mathematics and science), there's no problem with that. However, what is a problem is mistaking a serious writer who suffered from a debilitating mental disease as a sensation- and fame-seeker.

Mr. Matthew T. Sussman could only have made such a mistake in ignoring his own ignorance of a very well-known American writer and foolishly deciding to turn his ignorance into a sensation- and fame-seeking piece on David Foster Wallace. He should feel ashamed for his lack of intellectual curiosity as well as a lack of intellectual honesty. In both traits, he is the exact opposite of David Foster Wallace whose writing is much admired for displaying an energetic curiosity towards all things and all beings in the world as well as the ability to work through intellectual questions in a discerning manner.

Unuseful

The most unuseful thing off the internet

The most unuseful thing on the internet

(By the way, exclamation marks are not allowed as part of tags/labels...how unuseful. By the way, I would argue that unuseful can be semiotically different than useless...or I am just illiterate.)

Oh, unuseful here is useful.

Useful

The most useful thing on the internet.

Also Useful

The second most useful thing on the internet

Dear Mr. Wrake,

If this is copyrighted or otherwise shouldn't have a screenshot here, please notify the Professor immediately via the comments to this post so I can take it down. I think it's an internet miracle and want to draw attention to it. The workshop's two or three readers will really enjoy it, I'm sure of it. Maybe they'll send you money or name their children "Run." I know I will.

Lunchtime at the Workshop.

What, just bread Professor?

No, no. Also sweet creamy butter.

Cheese fries?

No. Poutine!
Click for a closer look and see if you can't spot one of the large tender cubes of meat in the gravy.

Those are tiny cubes of Chorizo, and there's a real clam underneath there. Click on it. I dare you.

The Professor's Sole.

A new poll, an old poll.

Thank you all for your insightful comments on the David Foster Wallace post, above, and the Sentimentality post, below. I look forward to hearing more on these topics. Please continue to comment, but also, help keep the workshop stable by voting in the new Sentimentality Poll.

Also, don't forget to vote in the Dignity poll. We've moved it up a bit for your convenience.

Sappy in the past and the future.

Note that this post does not have all necessary labels. Freedom of Expression is being limited. But this is not the topic at hand.

The Professor altered the date of this post so that the DFW love would stay at the top of the Workshop for the moment, and so that this post will not negate it.

But readers, have you noticed a turn for the sappy in the Professor's posts lately? The Professor, as a consumer of what one hopes is the objectivest reality possible, wants to know. Re-reading some recent posts, the Professor finds them to be a little sentimental. For instance, the Professor has used the personal pronoun "I" more frequently, no? And the word "love" is occurring more frequently as well. But perhaps the Professor is indeed feeling sentimental, but the blog does not in fact reflect that. It could be that the Professor is coloring everying in shades of sunrise and candy, emotion-wise, including the Professor's own posts. I just don't know. I, the Professor, need your help in figuring this out.

Also, readers, please remind the Professor of the pitfalls of being sentimental, to aid in the Professor's cost/benefit analysis. I guess the good side of sentimentality would be appropriate to hear about as well, for a true cost/benefit analysis. But sentimentality could be said to include an assumption of its own goodness. Or could it? I don't know. The Professor doesn't know. Neither one of us has faith in our own judgment any more.

I think I'll write about tanks or wiring diagrams or something next. Readers, I know the Professor is taxing you with all these requests, but please if you could, suggest something un-emotional for us to disect in the workshop.

Thank you

My hats go off to you, team Marvel. Well done. You've come through for me in a time of need. Not for me, personally, I realize, but for the Workshop. Everybody put aside their busy lives and gave a piece of themselves. Everybody but Perfect, that is. Perfect is likely a perfectionist, composing, as we speak--or rather as I write--a DFW-esque treatise on Snails and Consumer culture. Heavily footnoted, it will be so extensive and detailed that the reminder to vote in the Dignity Poll will have to be placed somewhere in its first chapter.

Team Marvel, please consider contributing regularly. You all did so well, and ... you are my strength. You are the foundation upon which the Workshop rests. Without you, it'd be nothing but a few yellow penises.

I will try to contribute as well, but it's hard to balance the actual Work of the Workshop with the meta-discussion about the Workshop that goes on in the blog. I will try to be meta for you, readers, as the Workshop has been an interesting place recently, and may continue to be interesting into the future. We're using the lab again--firing up the bunson burners, sterilizing the test tubes, hauling the electrophoresis machine out of the hall closet. It's all very exciting and dangerous!!! Look for more or less posting soon as a result of this or something else.

There are itchy people everywhere

Gilda Radner - "I base most of my fashion taste on what doesn't itch."

Rule of personalities on the workplace

In the interest of saving the Professor's sanity, I am doing the one-time favor (note: one time only) of posting after reading a plea. Moreover, I am posting a related item on sanity and the insane on the workplace. The Professor better appreciate that I am taking time off from knitting coasters to write this up.

After having worked at various companies over a decade (work experience can be rather limited for us dimwits who spent our youth and money too long at school), I have decided that there is not a single company of any size without a token psycho. So, if there is a company with only two persons, without a doubt, one person will suffer from serious behavioral issues and inflict it on the other person. Having worked in companies and departments of various sizes, it is a common variable to all workplaces.

Why does this occur? Even though I have not made an extensive study, I will make a groundbreaking hypothesis which will lay the groundwork for future studies that will earn psychologists and psychiatrists the Nobel Prize if they learn how to utilize the internet to read random rants and raves of the common layperson and thus to propel the study of the insane. My groundbreaking hypothesis of the insane at work has two parts:

1) Individuals often consider the workplace as their small tiny pool of influence and therefore consider the workplace as the world which they shall conquer and therefore become a petty tyrant.

2) As the workplace can be compared to a dysfunctional family (as one old friend pointed out to me, it is the place where we spend the most amount of our waking hours), certain individuals behave as though the workplace is their home. Thus, they become overly comfortable and start acting out as they would towards their family.

These individuals are objects of curiosity and occasional violence. One must treat them with due care, not necessarily with kid gloves but more with the thick gloves that bear tamers use.

Of course, the most notorious of violent behavior on the workplace is the postal office, hence the common term "going postal." Going postal is commonly believed to be a result of too much stamp licking by postal workers. For many years, Americans believed that there was LSD laced with the glue used on stamps that caused postal workers to go...well, postal. This erroneous belief led to the massive Rush on Stamps of 2004. Americans everywhere bought stamps and started licking them, thinking that they would get a cheap rush.

Unfortunately, this led to a shortage of stamps and a new "market will bear" pricing mentality by the United States Post Office, with stamp prices being repriced at $10.25 each. Thankfully, Americans, after much licking without any effect except for sticky tongues and stamps getting stuck to all their clothes, furniture, and their furry pets (the worst incidence of such was the negligent stamp licking owners of Pollyanna parrot who stuck the licked stamps on their Pollyanna's beak, effectively shutting her poor beak and leading to her slow death by starvation while her LSD/stamp obsessed owners didn't even realize that she had not chirped "Pollyanna wants a cracker" in twenty days; as a memorial of the cruelty suffered by American pets everywhere during this period, the US Postal Office erected a Pollyanna parrot statue outside their central DC headquarters with an eternal looping recording of "Pollyanna wants a cracker"), began to realize that LSD was not laced with the glue used on stamps. Instead, they had to arrive at the conclusion that given the incidence of mad people in America, a certain ratio also had to work at the post office. While stamp prices never dropped back down to the 2003 price, we can all now send letters for a reasonable price again.

easier to build than maintain

Has it been anyone's experience here that it seems easier to build things than to maintain them properly? I mean except for decent art. But countries, plants, workshops, languages, even cigarettes? I'm tired.

I am the King of Balls

How does one get to be a Professor¹ without knowing basic html?²

David Foster Wallace you are not.³

¹ I am the King of Balls.

² I am the King of Balls.

footnote continued on next post

³ I am the King of Balls.

A plea

Postillion, Xbasket, Perfect, King of Balls,

Help the Professor out. I have writer's block, or some similar ailment. I'm not paying enough attention to the words in my brain and the blog is suffering. See it suffer? See the one-line posts? See my agony? SEE? HOW CAN YOU CONTINUE TO STAND BY AND DO NOTHING?!?! I HATE YOUR COMPLACENCY!!!!

Please write and post something to improve the workshop in these lean times. Except for you, King of Balls. Please stop posting in the workshop unless you find something else to say.

I would also like the workshop to have more pictures, because they are each worth 1,000 words, but the yellow penises were so interesting that nothing else in the workshop really compares. [The penises are now in steady-state, by the way: unchanged since their last photo several weeks ago, except maybe a little browner.] [Can a blog have footnotes? The Professor is tangential and without footnotes the posts might become unreadable.]

I will take care of the pictures. You people, the rest of you, please put words in the workshop. Please love the workshop.

If you want a topic to write on, please pick any of the already established topics in the index, i.e. Snails and Consumer Culture, Dignity, Exclamation Marks, etc. Pick one with only one entry, and develop it.

It's 9/11 and

I am the King of Balls.

Obligatory 9/11 Post

Imagine the professor saying something insightful here, okay kids?

Also Pathetic

How did you guys do this? Most slugs just eat the leaves and flowers. You sucked the life out of them. You must be vampire slugs. Instead of the pellets the Professor should have put little stakes through your little hearts.

King of Balls

I am the King of Balls.

Pathetic

I take a hiatus for a month while my life is going through some major changes, and all Professor Marvel can do is post about moldy penises? What kind of entertainment is this, I ask you?

I recommend that all of you, Morgan Freedman, Kurt Cobain's ghost, Courtney Love, etc., entertain yourself by reviewing the catastrophe of the Republican VP candidate. And we should spend all our hours until election praying fervently to whatever mysterious forces of democracy that might still be lingering (granted in a stale, leftover sort of way) be in America to save us from such monstrosities.

That said, I am taking another hiatus to prepare my getaway in another country in case the Republicans win.

Two culprits killed, little spirals may be exonerated

Two dead slugs have been found. No spirally shells to be seen.

Pictures would be inappropriate.

We still do not know if the lobelia will pull through, but at least the Professor can have "closure" because the victims have been brought to justice. That's the way they say it works, anyway. The Professor is not so sure.

Sorry, little spirals, but....

... while you may think the workshop is a safe place for you, a place where we engage in the glorification of your species, the sad truth is that you guys and the professor have a complex relationship.

You've been eating my plants again and I'm going to have to kill some of you.

Actually, I don't mind some snacking. As you can see from my behavior with the yellow penis gang, I am pretty tolerant of the non-lethal use of the plants by other species.

I just can't understand how you guys can manage to out-and-out kill a plant just by snacking on it. If you continue to ravage that poor lobelia, it will be dead. It's already almost at the stage where hospice is all I can provide. Once it's dead, none of us can enjoy it. You can't snack on it, and I can't admire it's violet beauty.

Why can't you be more like those crazy plant ants that just kind of walk all over the plants but do not hurt them?

Anyway, I have these pellets. If I remember correctly, you guys like to eat them. Once ingested, they make you guys--and your slug brothers, who may also be in on this--stop eating and drinking. Or maybe just one or the other, I can't recall, but since both eating and drinking are necessary for continued life, you eventually die. I think it takes only a day or two. I'm going to put them out tonight, if I remember to do so. The directions say that they're most effective if put out at night, right before you guys come out and start doing your conspicuous consumption thing.

Consider yourselves warned. You can stop now, and we can all live together in peace. Or, you can continue your reckless disregard for the well-being of the Professor's lobelia, and you can die. I know you guys are reading this.

two new penises compete, in the shrinking shadow of their dead leader.

A tribute to buffalo wings

Wikipedia defines buffalo wings as follows:

Buffalo wings, chicken wings, hot wings or wings are chicken wing sections (called wings, or "flats") and drummettes that are deep fried and then coated in sauce. Traditional Buffalo style chicken wing sauce is composed of two ingredients: a vinegar-based cayenne pepper hot sauce, margarine or butter. Buffalo wings may also be prepared with breading and sauce, although many purists would consider breaded wings not to be genuine "Buffalo" style wings.

Buffalo wings are named after the city of Buffalo, New York, where they originated. In Buffalo, the local residents do not refer to them as "Buffalo wings". They are usually referred to as "wings" or "chicken wings". The appellation "Buffalo" is now commonly applied to foods other than wings, such as chicken fingers, chicken nuggets, popcorn chicken, etc, that are seasoned with the Buffalo style sauce or variations of it. Traditional Buffalo wings (ones prepared without breading) are very low-carbohydrate.

The secret ingredient is butter!

Speaking of upstate New York and food, consider the Spiedie. A delicious sandwich of cubes of marinated spit-roasted meat, known only to the locals of Binghamton and vicinity. The Binghamtonians have an annual festival where they celebrate the Spiedie and race balloons. Blue Oyster Cult performed at this year's event. Or was it Motley Crue? The professor often confuses the two.

Thank you Binghamton. You've given the world Rod Serling and the Spiedie.

A tribute to wingpeople

Wikipedia defines wingman as follows:

Wingman is a term in the seduction community that a man may take when he goes to a club or bar with an accompanying male. A wingman is expected to support his friend in approaching women. The men often pick a desired woman, who is referred to as the "target". The man intending to seduce the target is often called the "pilot." The wingman is expected to back up the pilot, which typically entails talking to the target's less attractive friend(s) and making comments that will make the pilot seem more attractive. The 1986 film Top Gun is often credited with bringing the term into popular usage.

The wingman motivates the pilot to be social and practice approaching women. He helps the pilot approach pairs and groups of women without the awkwardness of being alone. He will sometimes take the less attractive woman of a pair so that the pilot can get the more attractive without interruption. In certain situations, the pilot will go with his "AW", commonly referred to as Automatic Wingman. He has the most experience in playing the role of wingman.

Other responsibilities include remembering details (i.e. target's names and personal information) as well as compensating for intoxication in the judgment of the pilot. The point of the wingman, however, is defeated if he himself becomes an obstacle; hence the application to the wingman of the 11th commandment (or Second Law of Wingmandom),^[1] "Thou shalt not cockblock."^[2]

Sometimes, we have wingmen or wingwomen in our lives that we don't even realize are playing the role of wingperson. God bless them all. Thanks to them, life can be hilarious. May hi-larity reign. May the Ironic Force be recognized as the missing piece in the equation that will unify the disparate cosmological theories once and for all.

Rental wingwomen are available at wingwoman.com.

Yes, the party is over.

six-steppin'

I saw some guys six-stepping out at the club the other night. I was bouncing and working tickets at the Cattle Club for Kevin. My gawd, I wanted to do some six-stepping.

I had knee-pads under my baggies. It's the joints - knees, elbows, knuckles, that take a beating. I looked out at the moon from the entrance. I couldn't smell anything because I'm...my sense of smell is compromised by obesity. Well, I saw no...I mean I saw a few people out there. I want to talk about these things! A lot of these people don't stand in the parking-lot and just look at the trees. That's an opinion. Maybe they're drinking or being nervous because of Sweet N' Low studies. Summary: not too many just looking at it all, most thinking back about Denny's coffee w/sexy Sweet N' Low. Sex. One guy smelled like Tide or some detergent and he slashed at me. I didn't take his ticket, I didn't give him a refund, and I don't play that game. I'm like a cartoon. I'm like a... no, but I'm sentimental about stuff. Maybe some crickets. And dry winds and oak trees and wild oats soughing in the night breeze. When the police arrive they always just stare at my tits and I give them an 800 number.

"click for big"

This is all happening so fast!

Two days later

Left penis has outgrown right penis while the Professor was away.

Others are sprouting up all around ...

and the penises have sprouted penises.

the party's over

Fernando Regis had an eyeball, now disabled, with a diameter which apparently channeled standard 2.45GHz microwaves in addition to admitting light in the typical visible range (400-800THz). George stated he could feel in his eye "a certain tingling sensation" when microwave ovens with leaky seals were operating within perhaps 20 feet of where he stood. He never participated in any scientific study to confirm this. Pretty Polly's subjective experience of microwaves seemed to correspond with a diminishing of Oculus Dexter visible-light sight. Tom's familiarity with the presence of microwave activity, he believed, went hand-in-hand with a simultaneous creation and stengthening of a cataract. He eventually changed his cooking habits but, if cataracts are a function of combined exposure effects or the result of a single trauma, Pietro may have been correct in assuming Tom's ability to determine microwave oven operation came at a great cost to him personally.

oh holy hell

The Professor had been vaguely aware that a plant in the workshop had some soil mold. A closer look today reveals dead or inanimate worms and two bright moon yellow penises. Any explanations, recommendations from the readership would be appreciated here. Can I leave this alone in the workshop for a day or two or should I roll it out immediately? Will it grow and kill the workshop cat? Where did the worms come from? It was just miracle-gro potting soil and a plant from a local nursery. And what lies under the soil, at the base of the yellow penises?

The Professor shudders to think.

Oh Goody

Oh Goody, folks. We have another invitee to the Workshop. Cross your fingers that this individual will accept the Professor's humble invitation. Perhaps, if we're lucky, this invitation will result in more posting than the last two invitations, which between them have produced no posts and one comment. Postillion and I just can't do this alone, people.

Not everything is chaperone, Firefox.

Firefox is displaying alternatives to chaperone wherever the Professor right-clicks, regardless of whether a word is being misspelled, regardless of whether a text editor is being used at all, regardless of whether a word is even selected.

Dictionary.com says chaperone is as valid as chaperon so Firefox should really stop harping on this so much.

Oxytocin Hangover

The Professor googled "oxytocin hangover" in quotation marks just like earlier in the sentence there, and there were no exact matches, although I'm sure many of us know exactly what an oxytocin hangover is. Please, contributors and commenters, you vast legions, post/comment on oxytocin hangover here. Fix google and help other oxytocin junkies take a step toward recovery, or at least harm reduction.

You know, many words ago, spellcheck questioned the spelling of "chaperone" and suggested chaperon" (and the Professor politely declined and kept the final "e") and now for every word that it questions, including goddamn "oxytocin" and "spellcheck" all it suggests is "chaperon."

Firefox, in the Professor's world, chaperone has an "e" at the end, no matter how many times you suggest otherwise in irrelevant contexts. I love you and you can do better.

The Opression of the Hyperhidric

Hyperhidrosis is a punishing disease.

You may or not be aware: Some people around you sweat more than others. Those people, if they want to be clean, must do more laundry.

The added costs in time, detergent, and awkwardness--or wash-and-fold bills--present a financial burden for the excessive sweater of modest income.

The professor is considering starting a charity. For research & laundry costs. And maybe psychotherapy.

Why bring the therapy community into this?

Good question. You see, the sweaty can also be oppressed socially. Wet arm pits or a sweaty handshake can ruin a job interview or a date, for those unlucky enough to be involved with people who judge others based on their sweatiness.

Also, sweat can sting when it gets in your eyes. If other people's sweat gets in your eyes, it tends to sting more than your own sweat. So, the hyperhidric harm their lovers.

Sweating in a positive light

Sweating is misunderstood. It is, in fact, good for you. Sweat contains a germ-fighting agent that can help fight off infections. Researchers found the gene behind the protein it produces. They named the protein Dermicidin. Dermicidin is manufactured in your sweat glands where it is injected into your sweat which then takes the Dermicidin to your skin's surface where it protects against bad guys like E. coli and Staph, and Candida. Link.

Thus, the sweaty are also the healthy.

And, in New Orleans, folks are actually proud of their sweatiness and were displeased to learn that they were the third sweatiest city in the U.S., coming in behind, of all places, San Antonio and Dallas. Link.

New Poll!!!!

Your vote can help shape the future of the workshop. Please vote in the "what topic should we cover next" poll. The topic with the least votes will be selected. VOTE NOW!

Update: voting closed. Thank you all for voting. Since multiple topics had the same number of least votes, the topic with the most votes will be covered. This is best. Think about it: if you read the rules you were really voting against a topic by voting for it, so for all intents & purposes sweatiness does have the least votes.

Something even more exciting

DIGNITY! There is second dignified person the world. We now have two confirmed!

Although, it's possible the Professor -- yours truly -- who is honest to a fault, will soon be unable to claim dignity as an asset without being a hypocrite. Watch the poll carefully, readers. Something serious is at stake.

Something exciting

Something exciting may happen at the workshop soon. Are you ready to hear what it is? It has to do with dignity. To add dignity to the workshop, we have invited a new guest author. Who will it be? What will they write? Will this author see the same level of popularity as the controversial Postillion has? Only time will tell.

When will we find out if the new author accepts our invitation? Soon, Soon, the Professor hopes.

Bookmark the workshop now and check back often for the latest developments.

Indeed, who Is stupid now? I think I know...

Postillion doesn't perhaps grasp the near universality of the -er, -est suffixes. Professor Marvel understands them to be a way to superlative-ize any adjective, unless there is an exception as with good/better/best, bad/worse/worst. Granted, in some cases, adding -er/-est just sounds sort of stupid. And in that case, we just use more or most in front of the adjective. It's just not that mysterious.

Who's stupid now?

I had no idea that eviler and evilest are actual words.

The dictionary says they are.

Maybe my ignorance stems from my goodness?

~Postillion

Twin studies

Mystery solved!

They are starlings!

~Postillion!!!

A Big Thank You

... to whoever voted in the snail poll. It's folks like you who keep democracy alive.

EUODI officially unveiled

After doing some focus group tests and test flights on Experiments of Unkindness on One Deserving Individual, we are officially rolling out/launching (choose the corporate lingua franca of your preference) EUODI!

Here is the way the terminology can be used by all followers of EUODI:

EU: Experiments of Unkindness
Comes from Ancient Greek eu meaning well
Pronounced with a fluctuation of sound as it is a dipthong

Don't forget to vote in the Dignity Poll.

ODI: One Deserving Individual
Comes from Latin odiosus, hateful, and odium, hatred.
ODI is related to the English word odious
Rhyme it with Opie (Opie: dopey dog character from ancient comic strip: Garfield).

Now, put it all together and pronounce it: EUODI (don't forget to fluctuate the eu!)

Thanks and gratitude to Gnovos without whose inspiring, motivating and illiterate words, none of this would have been possible.

~Postillion

Oh, the crazy things that go on here in the workshop! Look how many of you are undignified. What has become of us, as a culture? In my days -- even when I was just a pup -- I strove for dignity. I would never call myself undignified, even in an anonymous poll.

But clearly times are changing. I will try to change too. I consider myself a modern Professor, so I insist on keeping up with the latest fads. I will try to be undignified. I will lose some dignity. Back to the workbench to figure out how!

Thanks Postillion

Don't forget to vote in the Dignity Poll.

Postillion: Professor Marvel has decided that your additions to the blog are worthy.

ATTENTION READERS: If at any time the arrow in the Dignity Poll message does not line up properly with the Dignity Poll in your browser, PLEASE open or close the Year and Month headings in the Archive list just above the poll until the poll and arrow line up properly.

Unkindness

I am currently engaged in an experiment of unkindness. While I generally don't believe in unkindness (although generally not believing in unkindness does not rule out sarcasm, irony, wryness, nor sardonic searing witticisms), I have decided that occasionally one must make exceptions.

So far, my unkindness experiment has generated the desired reaction: fear and flight in the subject.

If you would like to engage in unkindness, I recommend it be done with wit and grace inasmuch as it is possible. It helps if you are involved in a moment of actually feeling contempt for the subject.

Not too long ago, Professor Marvel put together the dignity poll. Unkindness is rather undignified. But, I admit that the gratification of self-satisfaction might be worth it.

~Postillion

re: sudoko

I find that the pleasure of sudoku varies over time. Yes, the fun diminishes, but then you put the sudokus down for a while -- weeks, months, years -- and then some day, you're riding the bus, and it's exactly what you need. The pleasure v. time graph of sudoku is shaped like a roller coaster. I will draw it on a bar napkin for you one day and post it here in my workshop.

Don't forget to vote in the Dignity Poll.

Professor Marvel asks ...

What's happening to my workshop? Somebody's been fooling around in my workshop. Now there's all these words in here.

I'm not sure how I feel about this. Give me some time to sort out my thoughts.

In the meantime, don't forget to vote in the Dignity Poll.

Some free floating quotes on the state of human kind, contempt, bordeom, the quotidian, and a Sudoku question

Why not use your fluttering tongue to wipe the sweat off of that starling who is trying to strip off her wings. It's so distant of you, my aroboreal lover on the outskirts of town. From the shadow of the clothes hanging in a thrift shop, a single antelope watches you. Steel-colored eyes of contempt. Takashi Hiraide, For the Fighting Spirit of the Walnut (trans. by Sawaka Nakayasu)

Or, Cyril Connolly from The Unquiet Grave:
Beneath a mask of selfish tranquility nothing exists except bitterness and boredom. I am one of those whom suffering has made empty and frivolous: each night in my dreams I pull the scab off a wound; each day, vacuous and habit-ridden, I help it re-form.

When I contemplate the accumulation of guilt and remorse which, like a garbage-can, I carry through life, and which is fed not only by the lightest action but by the most harmless pleasure, I feel Man to be of all living things the most biologically incompetent and ill-organized. Why has he acquired a seventy-years' life-span only to poison it incurably by the mere being of himself? Why has he thrown Conscience, like a dead rat, to putrefy in the well?

And back to Takashi Hiraide:
One day, in the afternoon after the rain, on the escalator going from the west side of the first floor to the second floor of the Takashimaya store in Nihonbashi, I saw a single snail in front of me, and found myself sighing deeply at the pointlessness of his rhyme. Would he now proceed to the grocery on the rooftop, or head straight to the kitchen of the dining hall. Or perhaps he has some shopping to do. At least get yourself up to the magic section, little spiral. I whispered words of encouragement, but all I saw was maybe a shy little twitch of the tentacles.

By the way, is there diminishing returns of pleasure on Sudoku?

~posted by Postillion

Dignity

This post is about dignity. This blog is about dignity. I have dignity.

Do you have any dignity? If yes, what do you do with it? If no, do you want some, or do you think it's overrated?

A request from Prof. Marvel

Please mock me. Do your best.

Vanuatu, Kiribati, Nauru receive US assistance

"The agency says it is the first time since World War II that there has been a significant US military presence on those islands."

I wonder if they're looking forward to having the U.S. back?

Pipe Dreams

http://www.tripletsandus.com/80s/80s_games/pipe.htm

It's probably best not to go elsewhere on this site. Just play the game.

Von Trapp

So, who knew that The Sound of Music is a true story? Everyone but me, I suppose.

How does this relate to the current (although probably temporary) blog theme: the South Pacific? Maria Von Trapp Jr. was a missionary in Papua New Guinea for a significant period of time - some 30 years according to the link above, even when the rest of them fled (back) to Vermont. They gave up singing to be missionaries. Some are still alive...and you can stay at the Trapp Family Lodge in Vermont on your next ski vacation.