Happy New Year!

Or as the Chinese, Jewish, and Mayan calendars would call it, Sunday.

This Week in Science!!!

Here's the occasional wrap-up of anything noteworthy in the world of science.

Starting off with--MY GOD, WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!!

Story One:
Space ball lands in Namibia!!!

A metallic ball measuring about 1.1 meters wide landed in a grassland in remote Namibia after plummeting down from space. Locals said they heard small explosions leading up to finding the space ball in a desolate field. Officials notified NASA and the European Space Agency, who are generally noncommittal on what it is.

Man-made? Possibly. Alien invasion? DAMN LIKELY. God help us all.

According to The International Business Times--where I always go to decipher the facts on alien invasions--it might be a fuel tank from a satellite. Who's their expert source? An anonymous commenter to Gawker Media's own story of the space ball who says something along the lines of, "Hey, yo, that looks like a fuel tank to a satellite."

OH! Okay, then. I was worried someone from NASA might lend some insight and sound authoritative. Thank God the source is some anonymous jamoke leaving a comment on a gossip website. Now that's cleared up.

I, for one, welcome our new alien overlords.


Story Two:
Frankincense is doomed!!!

Baby Jesus is going to be stiffed on the gift front from here on out, because frankincense is doomed. According to a study published in the British Journal of Applied Ecology, the population of Boswellia trees (which produce the incense-like frankicense) will probably decrease by 90% within the next 50 years, mostly due to over-forestation, fires, and anything else humankind can do to screw over the Boswellia trees.

Don't worry. Baby Jesus won't even notice the difference if you get him an incense diffuser from Bath & Body Works.




Story Three:
Stephen Hawking wants to hire you!!!

Stephen Hawking (ehhh, look him up if you don't know him; I can't help your ignorance) is looking for someone to maintain the one-of-its-kind computer that generates his synthesized voice.

He posted an ad on his website, and says the job pays £25,000/$38,500 in salary.

That's right--you, too, can have a unique skill and be grossly underpaid. Even with that science degree!





Story Four:
A new island has emerged in the Red Sea!!!

An underwater volcanic eruption has created a new island off Yemen in the Red Sea. Fisherman (who apparently freelance as scientists) reported seeing volcanic activity developing into an island on December 19th. By December 23rd, scientists took satellite photography confirming a smoldering mess bubbling up in the sea.

Newly formed volcanic rock is unstable when buffeted by waves, so many new islands become newly extinct islands overnight, so time will tell if this island remains.

But if that island does hold up, it's going to make for some beautiful waterfront property for vacationing Americans.

Science confirms you're a procrastinator.

According to the Pew Research Center's Internet & American Life Project, on any random day 53% of Americans between 18-29 go online at some point to look at porn to kill some time. Nothing noble. Just trying to find a reason to ignore friends and family.

As you get older, the less likely you're futzing about. Only 27% of 50-64 years olds are virtually twiddling their thumbs at some point during the day.

Over the age of 65? Only 12% are wasting time online daily. We can only assume the other 88% are napping.

Which is just to say that you're reading this blog because you're bored and/or lonely. I won't acknowledge this though, so let's not speak of this any further.

Randomness Corner: Sting wants you to know he doesn't have a damn clue how to write a song about the environment.

From the How the hell did you stumble onto that? file, I bring you Sting.com.

Yes, Sting. That Sting. The blonde, middle-aged light rocker best known for his work with The Police and keeping Trudy coming back for more--he has a website. Specifically, a website where he quotes himself everyday for his Quote of the Day.

One of Sting's Quote of the Days from this past week:

We're all marketed in these neat little formats, and that's where misconceptions get formed. There are all these misconceptions about me: that I'm so serious or that if you go to a Sting concert he'll lecture you about ecology and human rights. I've never written a song about ecology in my life. It's far too complicated.

I know what he's saying. People have this misconception that I'm a smartass, that they'll come to this blog and I'll hit them with sarcasm or cynicism.

Not true. I've never written a sarcastic blog post in my life. It's far too simple.

I'm just a jerk.

Which state uses racist language the most?

According to a study that researched racist words searched on Google, the state that searches for racist language most is West Virginia.

The Top Ten:
1. West Virginia
2. Louisiana
3. Pennsylvania
4. Mississippi
5. Kentucky
6. Michigan
7. Ohio
8. South Carolina
9. Alabama
10. New Jersey*

The only surprise here is Pennsylvania. But, really, go fifteen miles outside Philadelphia and the banjos and overalls crowd pretty much dominates.



*Don't even act surprised about New Jersey in the top ten. All the racist New Yorkers move there. It's one pitchfork away from a John Grisham novel.

New York Times cancels subscriptions to everyone, even people who aren't subscribed.

The New York Times had a whoopsy today.

They sent an email to 8.6 million people telling them their subscriptions were cancelled. The Times intended to send the email to 300 people. Some of the 8.6 million didn't even have a subscription to the newspaper to begin with.

In other breaking news, I haven't read The New York Times in years. Don't judge me.

2012's Color of the Year: Tangerine Tango

Something called the Pantone Color Institute (your guess is as good as mine) has come out with their Color of the Year.

The winner: Tangerine Tango.

Disregard for the moment that Pantone selects the color of the year for a year that hasn't happened yet. Small oversight.

According to the Pantone website description:

“Sophisticated but at the same time dramatic and seductive, Tangerine Tango is an orange with a lot of depth to it,” said Leatrice Eiseman, executive director of the Pantone Color Institute®.

Thank God, too. I've been so let down lately by unsophisticated, shallow oranges that have no depth. What tramps!

Pantone's Leatrice Eiseman continues:

"Reminiscent of the radiant shadings of a sunset, Tangerine Tango marries the vivaciousness and adrenaline rush of red with the friendliness and warmth of yellow, to form a high-visibility, magnetic hue that emenates heat and energy."

Who doesn't love a wedding? Even a wedding of colors. If only fuchsia and turquoise would stop pussyfooting around and finally tie the knot we'd all be happy, amiright??

Pantone:
"A winner in cosmetics because of its versatility, Tangerine Tango is a bit exotic, but in a very friendly, non-threatening way."

Unlike all those threatening exotic things in life, like Hawaii. And Spam.

Personally, I always thought Miss Piggy was a Fascist.

Also from the interwebs recently:

Fox Business Network analysts say that The Muppets are communists.

I, for one, have always suspected Elmo of being a commie. Why the red fur, man? Why the hippie love? Why all the sharing??

Says Mr. Corporate Analyst #1:
"It's amazing how far the left will go just to manipulate your kids, to convince them, give the anti-corporate message."

Says Mr Corporate Analyst #2 in reply:
"They've been doing it for decades. Hollywood, the left, the media, they hate the oil industry...They hate corporate America. And so you'll see all these movies attacking it, whether it was 'Cars 2,' which was another kids' movie, the George Clooney movie 'Syriana,' 'There Will Be Blood,' all these movies attacking the oil industry, none of them reminding people what oil means for most people: fuel to light a hospital, heat your home, fuel an ambulance to get you to the hospital if you need that. And they don't want to tell that story."

I know! Why hasn't there been a film about someone fueling up an ambulance?!


Photo: A website called libcom.org. Libcom = libertarian communists. I don't know what that even remotely means, but the photo is cute/serves a purpose.

"AM I BEING LOUDER THAN YOU??" Uh...well...sorry to say...but...

So this video has been making its way around the interwebs the past few weeks. It shows a student at Cal State Northridge going apes*it because some other students were "breathing loudly."

Which is to say, if you're an asthmatic it's probably best to steer clear of this woman.

Best part of the video is whenever Little Ms. Cranky Pants stomps her feet and charges back to lay down some more vitriol. Preschoolers weep with pride over how masterfully she pulls off the foot-stomp parade.

Shady Song Lyrics: The 78th Annual Christmas/Holiday Edition.

It's that time of year again when families come together out of obligation and pity to share gifts haphazardly thrown together out of spite.

It's also time for the annual analysis of Christmas/holiday song lyrics, where every bit of sexual innuendo and casual references to weirdness doesn't go unnoticed.

So let's get to it:

Song:   Winter Wonderland
Written by:   Felix Bernard and Richard B. Smith
Sung by:   Everyone from Bing Crosby to Toby Keith

Nothing is more enjoyable than when someone starts asking questions before I even know them.

Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?
In the lane snow is glistening.

Cool story, bro. Are we all supposed to stop what we're doing when we hear a sleigh bell? Isn't that how northern Finland gets around--sleighs? How the hell do they operate as a society if they have to stop every five minutes because a sleigh bell has rung?

Gone away is the bluebird.
Here to stay is a new bird.
He sings a love song as we go along,
Walking in a winter wonderland.

The wannabe Audubon Society gets derailed pretty quickly in these lyrics. They're quick to tell us about the migratory patterns of the bluebird--but damned if they have a clue what this other bird looks like. What's a swallow look like? Maybe it's a chickadee? No rational bird flies north for the winter, whatever it is.

In the meadow we can build a snowman,
And pretend that he is Parson Brown.

Ri-i-i-ght. Because whenever I build a snowman I always equate cold, lifeless beings to clergy members.

He'll say, "Are you married?" We'll say, "No, man!
But you can do the job when you're in town."

Man, this Defense of Marriage Act crap has even moved into the snowman realm. The minute this snowman comes to life he's peppering questions about your married life. Soon snowmen will be trying to ban gay marriage and limit adoptions to only heterosexual couples.

Later on we'll conspire as we dream by the fire,
To face unafraid the plans that we made
Walking in a winter wonderland.

Just goes to show you how scary marriage is. You need to dream about being unafraid to face it.




Song:   Last Christmas
Written by:   George Michael
Sung by:   Wham!

First off, the ratio of hair mousse-to-scalp is off the charts in this video, but that's beside the point.

George Michael brings to light the seedy underbelly of black market organ donation.

Last Christmas I gave you my heart,
But the very next day you gave it away.

This sort of logic brings up the problem with gifting. If you give someone something, isn't it their damn right to do what they feel with the gift--be it an ugly sweater or your heart? Maybe that heart had some quality resale value, and was worth some coin the day after Christmas.

This year, to save me from tears,
I'll give it to someone special.

Ooooh, snap! Them's fightin' words! I think George Michael just insulted someone through expert passive aggression.

Once bitten and twice shy,
I keep my distance but you still catch my eye.
Tell me, baby, do you recognize me?
Well, if it's been a year, it doesn't surprise me.

How much heroin are you doing that a lover doesn't recognize you a year later?

A crowded room, friends with tired eyes.
I'm hiding from you and your soul of ice.
My God, I thought you were someone to rely on.
Me? I guess I was a shoulder to cry on.

Possibly the only reference to a "soul of ice" in the history of Christmas song lyrics. It's like a bad sci-fi movie had sex with a Christmas song. So heartwarming!




Song:   Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer
Written by:   Randy Brooks
Sung By:   Elmo & Patsy (...originally, although now there are horrible remakes of it)

Christmas traditions are always a tender thing. Mistletoe, children opening gifts, and manslaughter--they all make the season feel merry and bright.

She'd been drinking too much egg nog,
And we begged her not to go.
But she forgot her medication,
And she staggered out the door into the snow.

I don't know what their recipe for egg nog calls for, but they need to share that with listeners. If it's strong enough to sauce a grandma whose liver is most likely already pickled, that's a needs-to-know kind of situation.

When they found her Christmas morning
At the scene of the attack,
She had hoof prints on her forehead
And incriminating Claus marks on her back.

Santa didn't just accidentally sideswipe her with his sleigh. There are Claus marks (?) on her back, which is pretty damning evidence if you ask me. It's suggestive that--after the reindeer pummeled her--the fat man got out of his sleigh and went full Ed Norton in American History X on grandma.

I've warned all my friends and neighbors,
"Better watch out for yourselves!"
They should never give a license
To a man who drives a sleigh and plays with elves.

I don't know what Santa's sexual kinks should have to do his getting a license. If the man plays a little slap-and-tickle with an elf, so be it. To each their own.




Song:   One Little Christmas Tree
Written by:   Ron Miller and Bryan Wells
Sung by:   Stevie Wonder

The key to a pleasant Christmas song is to make sure you paint a scene of desperation.

One little Christmas tree was standing alone,
Waiting for someone to come by.
One little Christmas Tree that never had grown
Cried as he looked up to the sky.

Isolation? Check. An onset of depression? Check.

Please continue:

Oh, please Mr. Father Tree, the tallest of all,
I'm so afraid and all alone,
Could one little Christmas tree so tiny and small
Light up someone's home?

Now this is just getting creepy. Did the tree just ask to die? I think he did. Can trees be suicidal? Can they be put on suicide watch? What does someone do here? Can trees call the Samaritans?

I don't know. I'm so confused. So damn horribly confused. Since when could a tree talk, nevermind need its shoelaces and belt taken away from it?

James Franco is like me when I was five. In kindergarten. Eating paste in a corner.

James Franco is a Big Hollywood Actor. He was in the recent Spiderman movies playing the famous villain WhatHisName SomethingOrAnother. A timeless character, really, in that it took no time to forget him.

Anyway, Franco is a grad student at NYU's Tisch School of Arts, where he's receiving the occasional D grade in acting classes. Specifically, "Directing the Actor II," taught by Prof. Jose Angel Santana. Santana sounds like a stick in the mud with the grading until you realize Franco missed 12 of 14 classes. Possibly, "Directing the Actor II" deals with the diva who doesn't want to leave the trailer all day on set. If so, Franco = best student ever.

The NYU folks didn't appreciate Santana being a realist, so they fired him in order to make sure Franco understood real education and effort wasn't required at NYU. This sort of irked Santana because, you know, he was only doing his job and Franco isn't Brando after all. He's not even John Denver yet.

So two great American traits are coming together for our entertainment: laziness and litigation. Franco's laziness is leading to Santana's litigation. Now, if they could just make a reality show out of this, the circle would be complete.

Book Review: Caucasia, by Danzy Senna

This is part of the continuing series of random book reviews that'll be nothing like a New York Times book review. Gone is the ten thousand word analysis. Instead, here is a book review like you'd tell your friends.



The book: Danzy Senna's Caucasia.




So Senna writes her own life, fictionalizes 5% of it, adds an addicted retail/consumer/commodification tick to her writing style, all under the guise of racial identity in America--and it's mind-blowing to people.

Put another way, Caucasia's writing style is the illegitimate love child of an 8th grade poetry class and a Walmart commercial.

I've seen better symbolism and metaphorical imagery in the short stories of a 10 year old girl hopped-up on Beiber.










Man, I sound bitter up there, don't I? I mean, don't get me wrong--I hate the book. It somehow makes Cormac McCarthy look decisive by comparison. But my tone comes across a little rough, doesn't it? Do me a favor and read the review to yourself again in a chipper, upbeat tone. Now it sounds like I just hate the book--but with a certain delightfulness, right?

Amnesty International to release 76 Bob Dylan cover songs in honor of its own anniversary.

Good God. The world hasn't seen torture on poor people this bad since Kim Jong Il starved half his country to death.

In case you've got $325 to burn on something to hold your pack of gum.

Kate Spade makes bags and stuff. Stuff my Y chromosome doesn't appreciate fully.

But she makes some stuff that looks like this:

Or like this:

And this...

And...

The real irony here is that the only people who've read those books are too poor to afford those purses. But that's why bankruptcy exists. The commercial on the radio with the official sounding lawyer told me so.

Effin: It's a state of mind.

Proper nouns are funny things. They can be completely harmless, but scare the hell out of corporations. Take Facebook, which doesn't much care if you grew up in a small village in Ireland called Effin--they think you're being vulgar.

Effin right.

According to Forbes, big business is having trouble playing Grammar Police. They're so afraid of offending people that they immediately assume you're being a flippant little bugger by saying you live in Effin, County Limerick, Ireland, and ban you from using it.

I don't know what this means if you live in Intercourse, PA. It's not Effin, but then again few things are.

English professor has a whoops moment.

Jason Cohen isn't a fan of tequila. Or, rather, he isn't a fan of TeQuilla, a similarly sounding name to the booze, and also one of Cohen's students at Barea College where he teaches. (Homophones are fun!)

It seems Cohen has a Twitter account and posted the following message:

"Given a student named TeQuilla, are my worst assumptions unavoidable? #s—tmystudentsmakemethink that at the end of the semester, I'm right."

I've had some of my most lucid thinking when enjoying Mexico's finest export, so maybe not. But that's a whoopsy on Cohen's part, because someone found out and tattle-taled. Now Cohen is backpedaling and apologizing like a politician.

This is why I don't use Twitter. If I'm going to offend people, I make sure to develop an overly-wordy and all-encompassing offensive opinion that has the potential to really ruin me. All-in, baby!

Students at College of William & Mary are studious and/or bored.

Depending on the quality of student, finals week means...

1.) Lots of studying.

2.) Lots of holiday shopping.

3.) Figuring out ways to burn some time until you can go home for winter break.

At The College of William and Mary*, students enjoy blending all three, by reenacting Black Friday hoard-crushing shenanigans with all the nobleness of pretending they want to study--all in an attempt to kill a few hours because they're lonely. (It's William and Mary, you know?)

According to Gawker, apparently students mass by the hundreds (thousands?) outside their main library waiting for the doors to be unlocked so they can stampede Pamplona bull style--crushing smaller, weaker students into a bloody pulp of lower intellect, all for the sake of getting primo study seats inside the library.

I can only assume the alternative for students was to sit in a dorm room with the freaky roommate that smells of methane and has an unhealthy addiction to Japanese anime.



*Really, who named this school? Yoda? Why is it backwards? Maybe--MAYBE--I'd give a pass to such a name if the school was Oxford or Harvard based on pretentiousness alone. But whosa whatsa William and Mary? What if we changed the names to College of Bubba and Shirley? Sounds classy to me.

(Not so) Shady Song Lyrics: Early Holiday Edition.

The annual examination of shady Christmas/holiday songs is coming up in the next week or so.

In the meantime, The Killers have continued their own annual tradition, having just released their yearly Christmas song. ("The Killers do a-what-now?" I know, I know. Way ahead of you.)

What makes this song noteworthy? The lyrics are based almost entirely on the 1890 poem "Cowboy's Christmas Ball," by a fairly unknown western frontiersman-poet William Lawrence Chittenden. (Poem can be found here. The song lyrics are pulled in chunks from all six girthy verses. The song would be 45 minutes long otherwise.)

Not gonna lie--kinda like it. This oddly shames me, like I have bad taste in couches or lawn ornaments.

74 year old professor at Boston University and Suffolk University arrested for running a meth lab.

Seventy-four years old, too! You might think she was smuggling prescription blood pressure meds or something at that age. But, no. She's running a meth den. Some grandmas hand out a Werther's Original. Others hand out meth. To each their own.

Irina Kristy is her name, and she teaches math at both BU and Suffolk. Apparently teaching math doesn't take up as much time as you'd assume, because she's allegedly cooking up batches of meth in her Somerville, MA, home.

According to reviews on RateMyProfessors.com, she's a toss-up:

Her grading is pretty good, however, no one can understand what she is talking about...

NEVER TAKE A CLASS WITH HER NO MATTER WHAT it is a waste of your time!! [...] You don't know what she is ever saying and she looks confused on stuff all the time.

this lady has lost her cool

Well, hey, you don't want to market a homemade product without testing the quality first, right?

I, for one, have never been in a car accident.

Awhile ago, a website called Pleated-Jeans created a map of the United States showing something every individual state is worst at. Each state, according to Pleated-Jeans' research, is the worst at whatever they're labeled with.

Are some of these actually bad though? Ohio is "the nerdiest state"--which just means everyone goes to college for engineering and will have a six-figure salary soon.

By comparison, Maine is supposed to be the dumbest. As a fellow New Englander with traveling experiences in Maine, that seems entirely plausible. Having a conversation with some folks there requires pictograms and lots of hand gesturing.

Meanwhile, Massachusetts has the worst drivers, while Wyoming has the most fatal car crashes. Those two facts seem to negate one another, no? I would think that having the most fatal car crashes pretty much equals having the worst drivers, too. Sure, people from Massachusetts might be driving 40mph over the speed limit, but damned if we don't know how to avoid turning pedestrians into speed bumps.

Randomness Corner: Dog Disco

Welcome to Randomness Corner, where we'll post something that has little to do with writing/books/English/education...if only for our collective sanity.

Today: Dog Disco.

Do we really need to define what's going on here? It's like a bizarro Saturday Night Fever. Swap out John Travolta for a springer spaniel, and you get the idea.

Grammy Award Nominees 2012: Spoken Word Category

Also known as audio books.

And the nominees announced today are (ooh, the boredom! excitement!)...

1.) Bossypants

     Tina Fey

2.) Fab Fan Memories -- The Beatles Bond

     (Various Artists)

3.) Hamlet  (William Shakespeare)

     Oregon Shakespeare Festival

4.) If You Ask Me (And of Course You Won't)

     Betty White

5.) The Mark of Zorro

     Val Kilmer & Cast

To show you how popular some of these audio books are, The Beatles nominee has one customer review on Amazon (and is ranked #290,313 overall in music sales). That's one review more than the Shakespeare nominee (#157,353 in book sales). Zorro at least has six reviews (but is ranked #192,430 in book sales).

You just know Betty White is taking this. She's unstoppable. Don't let osteoporosis and low calcium levels fool you.

Massachusetts teacher was once...errr...he was once...uhh...how do I say this?

Kevin Hogan is a teacher at a Malden, MA, charter school. The local Fox News affiliate found out from a tip that Hogan acted in a few gay pornography movies in his past.

Teacher?

Porn?

Gay??

Film at 11!!!

Monty Python is an acquired taste.

People who read The New Yorker usually have a man servant named Jeeves, a son named Ambrose, and a summer home on the Vineyard with an ocean view and a property tax bill higher than you and I make combined in salary.

So consider me weirded out to see a friend forward me a story from The New Yorker website. I always assumed this friend was scraping to get by. Ramen noodle meals? No cable? Sneakers with holes in the soles? Lie, lie, lie.

Anyway, Michael Palin (or Eric Idle, I can't tell, really) from Monty Python fame wrote a quick funny-ha-ha about alternative scholarship. Who actually wrote Shakespeare's work? Who wrote Christopher Marlowe's? Who wrote anything?

Damned if I know. We're all so confused now by alternative scholarship ("Shakespeare was actually written by Bob the Butcher, from Westminster, circa 1603!") that I can only surmise this blog entry was written by a woman named Joanne who spends her days in a knitting circle.

I prefer "loo" myself.

You know when you're a teenager--preferably misshapen, socially awkward, and full of quality acne--and you fall into a new group of friends, how over time you begin talking like them?

Usually it's for the worst. Lots of "likes" and "you knows." If you're from within ten miles of Boston, you inherently say "wicked" regardless if it's applicable. If you're in grad school, you start every statement with "What I found interesting..." regardless if it's actually interesting.

Well, The Economist (oh, yeah, I'm brainy) had a piece recently on Americanisms that have burrowed into British culture.

Cases in point:

a.) "Sidewalk" is in. "Pavement" is hitting the road. [woo-hoo, puns!]

Note: Adele is chasing sidewalks now.

b.) "Apartment" growing in popularity at the expense of "flat."

This is disappointing to learn. No matter what kind of a scabies-infested cesspool roach den you lived in, if you referred to it as a flat people were bamboozled into believing you lived somewhere modern and edgy.

c.) "Vacation" is nearly as popular as "holiday."

Again, sad. Who doesn't love a holiday, no matter what kind? Vacations are just a variation on vacate--and the only things that should be vacated are meth dens and math classes.

d.) The American "I'm good" is gaining on the British "I'm well."

Sigh. This is the worst thing to happen to British English since Madonna.

Take the 3rd exit off the roundabout, drive past the YMCA homage and killer turkey video, and it'll be the first blog on the right.

Time for another check-in on words and phrases people are using on search engines to find The Toolbox. According to Google, these search terms were used within the last 24hrs:

1.) froot loops france

We're very big with French cereal aficionados.

2.) frosty the snowman metaphor

The word is finally spreading: Frosty is a drug dealer on the lam.

3.) preppy clothes

Pocket squares optional here.

4.) chipotle burrito size

American.

5.) i want you

Get in line.

Payback, turkey style.

According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, forty-five million turkeys will be sold, cooked, and tasting delicious across America today.

So turkeys need vengeance whenever they can get it--like on this suburban mom and son. At about the 0:48 mark the son is scooped up by mom and she runs off camera to screams, and suddenly this turns into a Hitchcockian drama:

Talkin' Turkey

When people mention 1970's television, I imagine television that's full of warm brown and orange tones. Think: All in the Family, The Jeffersons, The Partridge Family. Shag orange carpeting should be required. Bell-bottoms optional.

But here's Walter Cronkite hosting an edition of the CBS Evening News on November 13, 1972, which, based on film quality, looks pulled from a 1938 time capsule.

Why does it matter? Because it's about Cuero, TX, and their annual Turkey Trot, as told by Charles Kuralt.

Let's revisit Thanksgiving during a simpler time, when watching television made you feel like you had cataracts.

'Atlas Shrugged' film producers apparently never read the book.

Film producers of an 'Atlas Shrugged' film are recalling 100,000 DVDs because the film is described on the cover as a story of "self-sacrifice."

In case you don't know, Ayn Rand's personal philosophy--explored in 'Atlas Shrugged'--is generally about stabbing as many people in the back as is reasonably possible in a lifetime.

In other words, not how Mother Teresa lived.

Newt Gingrich says poor students should clean their schools.

Well, thank God. I was worried the cycle of lower class humiliation would continue.

Maryland college cruises to a solution.

(((rim shot)))

Short story:
So heavy rains led to heavy mold in a variety of dorms at St. Mary's College of Maryland. And heavy mold led to unlivable conditions for students.

Solution option #1:
St. Mary's paid for hotels. Students inevitably start rapping, Mo--tel, ho--tel, Holiday Inn!

But hotels were far away for the remote college, and were fairly pricey.

Solution option #2:
Charter a cruise ship to dock sort-of, kind-of nearby and house students there.

That was pricey, but less pricey.

Ultimate solution:
Students stay at docked cruise ship and walk to class every day. Their laundry is done for them by ship's staff. School crafts agreement with cruise company that piano player, lounge act, and all-inclusive meals are not required.

Interesting side note #1:
Some students enjoy the laundry perk. According to Andy VanDeusen, a biology major, "It's wild. It's much more frequent than I wash my linens." In unrelated news, women have commented that Mr. VanDeusen's "man essence" smell is not nearly as attractive as he'd like you to believe.

Interesting side note #2:
Some students are pulling a Leo Dicaprio-in-Titanic role and are assigned rooms below decks, with no carpeting, no windows, and metal lockers.

I bet those future alumni checks will be huuuuge.

Quibble No. 5: Chu/You

Dear Usher,

Unless you know a lovely woman, last name "Chu," whom you miss dearly, the song lyric is pronounced "without you."

Thanks!
--An English Major.

Charles Kuralt on a pumpkin festival.

(Someone I know--who overheard me from afar watching these videos--said, "I don't know what you're watching, but it sounds boring as (expletive deleted, rhymes with pit)." I get it. There's an old, borderline senile man inside my grad school body. I was born in the wrong decade. All I'm saying is that if your grandmother met me, she probably would love me more than you. For good reason.)

Here's Kuralt on two brothers, a pumpkin patch, and thousands of school children.

I don't even like kids, and Kuralt makes this enjoyable.

It's probably the pumpkins.

Old Dead Men Giving Essays: Charles Kuralt Edition

Who was Charles Kuralt?

He was the folksy stand-in of an uncle that told an affecting story. His skill was writing televised essays for CBS News, kind of like Andy Rooney did--except less grouchy and more sentimental. Rooney spoke with his liver while Kuralt spoke with his heart. Rooney spoke from his office while Kuralt spoke from the road. Rooney instigated. Kuralt motivated.

With Thanksgiving next week, here's Kuralt's 1978 report of a poor, rural family from Mississippi that had something to be thankful for:

California college professor walks out of class when students don't supply snacks.

George Parrot is a professor, and he has priorities. Teaching is his second priority. Snacktime is his first.

George is a psych professor at Cal State, Sacremento--the northern California doppelganger of Fitchburg State. As part of his requirements, students take turns supplying snacks to the entire lecture hall. No snacks = no George. He walks out and refuses to teach--which is what he did to a class recently when no snacks were supplied.

Not just any snacks, too. George wants fruit and veggie platters or homemade baked goods. Nabisco products and pre-packaged products might warrant him leaving class, according to his syllabus.

On the plus side, George says he does this because...
1.) It creates team building. (Meaning everyone hates the kid who brought the baby carrot snack platter.)
2.) It stops students from being sleepy in class. (Sugar rush!!!! Wooooo!!!!)
3.) He doesn't require a $200 textbook.

No $200 textbook sounds appealing...until you spend $300 on a veggie plate from Whole Foods. I bet you need hummus or some french onion dip, too. Maybe a nice cheese spread. Probably some drinks, napkins, plates, too.

Sounds like George has Harvard tastes on a Cal Sate budget.

Travel & Leisure wants you to know what towns to avoid.

College towns are great if you're a college student. They're not so great if you're just a local who lives there.

I was once a local who lived in such a town, born and raised. It's great when tens of thousands of people under the age of 25 congregate in one location and spend the next four years devaluing local property values. Shirtless, listening to Linkin Park on 40,000 watt speakers at 2am, where every weeknight becomes Keg Stand Night--all because mom and dad begged them to attend college somewhere 2,000 miles away.

Yeah. College towns are precious when you're a local. Downright dreamy.

So, good news! Travel & Leisure has a list of the "best" college towns--from Oxford, MS, to Burlington, VT--where I can only surmise the locals sob quietly to themselves whenever September rolls around.

Gay penguins can love each other soon. Just after they act straight for awhile.

A year and a half ago, I noted a list of books banned most often--including a children's book about two gay penguins. That book was based on a true story.

Well, it turns out gay penguins are more common than anyone assumed. Naturally.

The Toronto Zoo has two male penguins who enjoy a little male bonding. And by male bonding I mean lusty evenings that turn into wedding shower gift lists at Pottery Barn and Crate & Barrel.

But the Toronto Zoo is homophobic. Or at least trying to increase endangered penguin populations--and last they checked, gay penguin adoptions were few and far between. So the Toronto Zoo tore the gay penguin lovers apart--and refuse to let them back together until they get busy with female penguins in one experimental night of misguided sex. Then, and only then, will the Toronto Zoo allow these gay penguin lovers back together.

And to think...I always thought Canada was more open to penguins.

Nigerian newborn has a diploma and makes $150 a month.

He's been making $150 since before he was born.

Some say it's Nigerian corruption run amuck.

Others say Nigerian fetuses are just whizzes at math.

Circles of influences, which is more like a disjointed highway map.

A magazine called The Longshot had this drawing floating around lately about the circles of influences with literature/philosophy/Moby*.

Other than forgetting me and Jackie Collins, it looks about right.

*Yeah. Moby. Because beats-heavy tecnho is timeless.

Any Shakespeare movie < potential Marlowe movie

I like to think Christopher Marlowe was fun. For those non-English majors, Marlowe was a poor man's Shakespeare. Picture Shakespeare after a few cocktails when the self-editing button between the brain and mouth goes haywire.

First, Marlowe annoyed higher-ups and was ordered to report to the Privy Council for heretical concepts. Then he was stabbed to death under mysterious circumstances--which is always a sign of an interesting fella. Unsolved manslaughter = a fun time. Sounds like a good movie.

But he wasn't Shakespeare--which is to say...eh, overdone. Now there's a movie about Shakespeare called Anonymous, which revisits the idea that Shakespeare didn't actually write any of Shakespeare's works. This idea really irks some folks in Britain, who taped over various road signs referencing the Bard as an act of protest against the movie's premise.

Yeah.

That'll show 'em.



Side note:
Is that a bear moseying around upright using a walking stick? It looks like a green, nude Winnie the Pooh. Are there many nude Winnie the Poohs in Warwickshire? Are they all serious hikers? Why isn't this promoted more in the county?



Photo: BBC

Harvard University newspaper exposé reveals truth why students are combing Facebook during class.

Ummm...

...in short, because they're easily distracted. Lookie! A status update about adorable puppies!






No, really, the newspaper examined why students were on Facebook instead of paying attention to their "distinguished professors," and treated it as as seriously as asking why fat kids eat cake. As a former fat kid who ate cake, I can tell you fat kids eat cake because cake is delicious and full of delicious sugar and fatty goodness. Much like Facebook.

Prof or Hobo?

Grad School Grunge afflicts thousands of male grad students (and the occasional female). Symptoms of Grad School Grunge are a lack of shaving, a slovenly appearance, and a delightful tendency to forget deodorant.

As a grad student, I can report I occasionally sport a beard that would win fans among the rural hermits in Montana, with a clothing style channeling the spirit of David Bowie after a bad bender in the Soho district, circa 1974. Deodorant and I are still tight though.

Grad students occasionally become professors. Which is why someone at the University of Toronto created a quiz called Prof or Hobo?

The easiest way to tell the difference in person? Do they mumble nearly indecipherable gibberish about the good ol' days with a tear in their eye? They're probably a professor then.


photo: utoronto.ca

Andy Rooney on art: "A writer ought to be able to write simple sentences before he tries to be a poet."

An old man isn't a fan of modern art! Because it's a stereotype! Because he's old! And modern art is weird! So he hates it! Get it? Get it??

Except, really, he's right. At least to me.

Once I visited Boston's ICA (Institute of Contemporary Art), and there was a wooden pallet on the ground--the kind you see in the back rooms of warehouses and grocery stores. The pallet had mirrors inside it. I was told that it represented a look inside the commerce of America--a reflection of the empty production of our society--the misguided economic policies of capitalism--the starvation of the consumer who could only look at themselves after they stripped everything that shipped on that pallet.

But all I saw was a gussied-up pallet.

Yeah, yeah, more Andy Rooney.

CBS News doesn't allow you to embed their YouTube videos into blogs, for what I assume is their attempt to kill any popular attraction to news. This means I get to use uploads from news junkies who apparently recorded 60 Minutes on Betamax. (tracking...tracking...)

Here's Andy Rooney's take from 1996 on magazines and their obsession with numbered lists.

These videos remind me of how good 60 Minutes was at its peak. Mike Wallace, Ed Bradley, Morley Safer, Harry Reasoner, Lesley Stahl. I don't expect you to know any of these people--that's because my soul found a fissure in the space-time continuum and is actually from 1947. But those people weren't creampuff bottle blondes or Grade A American Man Meat news anchors (hell, Morley Safer looks like he's made of wax and was left out in the sun too long), but they really could do a news piece.

Put another way: if Mike Wallace or Ed Bradley showed up at your front door for an interview, that was a sign you'd end up in jail within six months.

Andy Rooney, 1919-2011

Damn you, retirement! Your penchant for death has taken another elderly writer!

Thank God I have enough student loan debt to keep me working well past 150 years of age.

As it is, here were Andy's thoughts on birthdays and growing old from 2005:

Shady Song Lyrics: Taylor Swift Edition

It's been awhile since we did this.

So let's hit up examining the song lyrics of Taylor Swift, for no other reason than I'm fairly certain she's ten years of hard living away from turning into Wynonna Judd.

Song: Love Story
Written By: Taylor Swift



William Shakespeare and Taylor Swift have very different interpretations of the whole Romeo & Juliet storyline. Surprising, I know, but Taylor's involves less bloodshed, while Bill's lacks an MTV appeal to 15 year old girls.

Good news! We're all going to be panhandling for college!

According to an analysis by the Associated Press, middle- and lower-class students attending college are accepting the burden of paying off college more than ever. Meanwhile, students of the Buffy and Giles crowd (families earning $100,000+) have been disproportionately funded by various government agencies. How delightful!

Other facts from the AP:

a.) Accounting for inflation, state funding for college and universities has dropped 23% from 2000 to 2010, after growing 6% in the 1980s and 5% in the 1990s.

Feeling broke yet? Hold on...

b.) In 2000, only three states asked students to contribute more to their college funding out of pocket than the state offered in aid.

By 2010, 19 states asked students to contribute more than the state itself was willing to lend a hand.

Hold on! It gets better!

c.) States claim they're tight on cash.

Yet using a metric that measures a state's appropriation for every $1,000 of personal income, state support from 2000-2010 dropped from $7.25 to $6.11. In other words, by about 15%.

Better yet, let's quote directly from the AP article to get the full-on depressing angle about government funding:

"The states are simply funding other priorities," Hartle said. "They're funding Medicaid, they're funding corrections, they're funding elementary and secondary education." Higher education, by contrast, "has an awful lot of people who look like paying customers."

{{Phew}} I was worried college attendance was going to be dictated by academic ability. Now I'm relieved to know it's all going to be based on whether you feel like channeling your inner hobo.

The best part is knowing that after a failed attempt at bettering your life in college, the state will be more than happy to spend a crap ton of cash on you once you end up in prison. Par-tay!!

BREAKING NEWS: Andy Rooney hospitalized in serious condition.

According to the AP, Rooney is hospitalized in serious condition for unspecified reasons.

Just goes to show that retirement will kill you. Do you know of anyone who retired and didn't eventually die?

Exactly.

Chuckle Ha-Ha.

A few weeks ago I posted a comic that mocked eReaders.

Here's one making rounds about grammar.

The real question here: are two cops really needed to take down a portly English teacher? What makes her so dangerous? Adverbs?

Now back to our regularly scheduled blogging.

I know you have many choices for blog reading--especially blogs like this one. Which is to say you don't have many choices on that front. Books/education/pop culture/Village People adoration? Not as popular as you imagine in the blogosphere.

What did you do in the meantime? I like to imagine you forgot to bathe, curtains drawn, stacks of Cadbury wrappers covering your belly as you stared at your laptop screen. Waiting, waiting.

Which is why I apologize for the blog being quiet. Let's not speak of this. I know you were lonely. Let's hug it out and get back to where we were.

World Book Night: 100 Greatest Books...as selected by you.

Well, not really. More like "selected by you and an undetermined number of other people across the globe [with a decidedly British flavor]."

World Book Night will be held April 23, 2012, to coincide with...umm, well it's going to parallel the, uh, the...um. April 23 is the date when the, uh...

I got nothing. I don't know why the organizers picked that date. Earth Day? Isn't that in late April? Yeah, let's go with that. When you think about the sheer amount of trees that give up their lives every day to become a book, it only makes sense to align yourself with an environmental cause. It's called synergy, folks. It's the Circle of Life! Strike up the Elton John!

France bans ketchup in school and college cafeterias.

In an effort to show they're not down with love handles and early-onset heart attacks, France has banned ketchup in academic cafeterias, including at colleges and universities. Their reasoning is that it's packed with sugar and really not worth the potential headaches.

According to Jacques (you just knew he had to be named Jacques) Hazan, president of the Federation of School Something-or-Another in France, "We can't have children eating any old thing."

Thankfully, France still allows all kindergarteners two fifteen minute smoke breaks per day.

Tomas Transtromer won the Nobel Prize for Literature just now. I assume he's an autobot.

Rumor has it that Tomas Transtromer is a poet out of Sweden. He also just won the 2011 Nobel Prize for Literature.

Actually, for a second I thought his last name was "Transformer" and that Optimus Prime just won a literary award. Which would be understandable, because it's likely Optimus Prime has had a greater literary reach by blowing crap up than Tomas Transtormer has with his writing.

Granted, this is the Nobel Prize. It's flashy, but they hand it out every year to either...

1.) Someone who was famous fifty years ago.
or
2.) A kindly old man at the assisted living facility who's good with a limerick.

Apparently there's an old adage that the more complex your name is, the more likely you'll win a Nobel Prize.

"Cuff" ain't winning me a thing then.

Books with soundtracks...

...because you need a crescendo of violins when sexy-but-practical-businesswoman Kate finally gives into the sexual tension with cocky-but-misunderstood neighbor Brad in that trashy beach read you're thumbing through. Otherwise the moment when they kiss won't feel real. You need music to guide your emotions when you read.

Thankfully, some entrepreneurial spirits came through for you. Enter the Cameron brothers, Paul and Mark, two guys who want to create a "more cinematic-type experience" for reading. They're developing a variety of noise--music, ambient sounds, special effects--to coincide with your eReader experience. In some cases, this equals nine hours worth of material per book. This is because--eh, let's face it--you're a slow reader. Nine hours is being kind.

But if they really want a "more cinematic-type experience," they need to hire some 16 year olds to play on their smartphones as a five year old kicks my seat and an elderly man with gas sits in front of me as I read. Then we're talking authentic.