Happy Birthday

soon to be dying - will miss you

i am very sick

i think i may be dying

it took me ten minuts to logon because i couldnt figure out how to take off the allcaps button

whats worse than dying i may be sick on my bithday tomorow

i have the computer near me so that if i am dying i can leave my will and old testament

or something

more later after i die

Gifts for Hyperion

To go along with today's Advent, I have a number of gifts that you, grateful readers, can get me, magnanimous and fearless leader.

Several years ago I was totally against gifts. I felt it was too material, and did not reflect any of the values and ethos of the season that I wished to contemplate.

However, I was convinced of the error of my ways. As it was s'plained to me, not receiving gifts denies the Giver the opportunity to give, which is the whole purpose. People like to give; it warms their soul.

Who am I to keep people from bettering themselves?

So, like I said, I have come around completely here. I now accept gifts not only for Christmas, but for Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Festivus, Winter Solstice, Yule, Dinosaur Present Day (featuring T-Rex), and any other holiday you may celebrate.

[AND LET'S NOT FORGET: HYPERION WAS BORN ON DECEMBER 31st, HINT HIT, AND NO, HE DOES NOT ACCEPT 2 FOR 1 GIFTS TO COVER BOTH DAYS. GOT SCREWED ENOUGH ON THAT GROWING UP.]

With all that in mind, I have compiled a list of gifts that would be nice, should you choose to better yourselves.

PEN

What I think I need most is a pen that will write upside-down. I am spending more and more time on my back, and unable to write on a computer. I can write on a pad of paper, but have to write "up" and you know how normal pens work. Well, Fisher Space Pens, the greatest pen company on earth, developed the space pen ink cartridge, which is pressure-filled, and able to write on virtually any surface (including air), and upside-down.


A few years ago I had a gorgeous red Sensa Pen, with the fisher ink cartridge. What makes the Sensa so great is that it has a gel wrap around the edge for finger comfort. It's hard for me to find a pen sturdy enough for my humongous fingers to use. The Sensa pen was the nicest I ever had.

I found it at Sensa Online, and a little cheaper at Amazon. (It's on my Amazon Wishlist, if you're interested.) Any color would be great. I don't have to have this pen, but my fingers can't use small pens, and I have to be able to write upside-down.

SHAVER

I like to either have extra long hair, like a Viking, or else shaved completely. Right now I'm in a shaved phase, and when I do shave, it's rather tough. Regular clippers don't work too well, and to use an electric shaver means you have to do it every day, which is tough too.


Then my brother told me about this great Vidal Sassoon Palm Shaver. They're clippers that fit in your palm and are contoured to shave your head! And they're cheap! How cool is that? (Pretty damn cool.)

BACKPACKS

I definitely need a new backpack, and even though I don't have a laptop, I plan on getting one soon, so a laptop sleeve is essential. (I do have an awesome laptop bag already, but I'm thinking in case I have to go on the lam or something.)

My favorite store on Earth, Zappos, has several models that seem pretty sweet.




Nike Core Large Backpack





Nike Edge Elite Air Medium Backpack


I found a pretty sweet one on Amazon too, called the



Swiss Gear Computer Backpack


All of the above, even the ones from Zappos, are on my Amazon Wish List. My brother has had a North Face backpack for several years, but when I priced them they were all so expensive, so I didn't put any of those up. Basically, though, I need a large backpack, for a (maybe someday) laptop, and for my many books, papers, gods and stuffed animals I carry around.

HATS

I got a really sweet Indiana Jones hat a few months ago, but I also need an baseball cap for all-around wear. I have such a large head that the adjustable caps don't really fit me; I need fitted. (I wear size 8, which is very hard to find in stores. Luckily, they are online!)



I found some sweet lidded hats on Lids.com. They're all black and have mysterious Logos. This one above is for Hawaii, but really seems like it's for Hyperion. Others I love:





Rocket Power, baby! (for the Toledo Rockets)



Growly Cat Roaaaaarrrrrrrrrr! (Kansas State Wild Cats)

I was tempted to put up the Wichita St. Shockers, but didn't out of respect for you.



Of course, Logos aren't the most important things on earth. Here is a black logo-less cap (like Legolas, except the hat can act), for only $15. It's adjustable, but specifically made for big heads like mine.



(All of these are also up on my Amazon Wish List.)

DVD/BOOKS

I'm not pushing DVDs and Books as hard this year, since I am so blessed to have some great ones already, and the library provides so many of my reading/viewing wants and needs.

But, you know me. Of COURSE I have a list of things I'd like. Rather than enumerate them, though, I have simply put the items on the Wish List. Since I have great taste, feel free to use that list as a guide for purchasing books and movies for others!

GIFT CERTIFICATES

Gift Cards are always yummy! Just about any place is grand, but my most wished for would be....

Zappos: the best store on Earth
Best Buy - So many things to want
King Size Direct = For we "greatly statured" fellows
Amazon - duh

Also, gift Subscriptions, even for a little while, for Netflix or Blockbuster online would be sweet as well.

FOOD

I love food, but really shouldn't ask for it. However, if your world was going to end if you DIDN'T get me some food,

I love almonds and pistachios in almost all forms. I love trail mixes, either all fruit, all carbs (and I don't mind "Asian" hot), but not the nuts/raisin combos. Chocodiles (Chocolate Twinkies) are worth killing for, but so damn expensive! Boar's Head Turkey and Roast Beef is to die for, but I don't know how you'd ship it. Chick-Fil-A gift cards would ship, however. (As would Sonic, Olive Garden, Outback, Longhorn's, Carrabba's, and Subway.

Then there's Beef Jerky......



The important thing about this list is not that I want presents and I'm all greedy. No, the important thing is that you feel beholden to me, since I provide you with so many hours of entertainment, and am soon to be your leader.

Just kidding. (sort of) The important thing is that I no longer wish to stand in the way of people who want to give. Use this as a guide for people in your own life. (Several great gift ideas on Monkey Barn, too.)

And if you are going to send to me, make sure you get my address right! (Amazon's Wish List is cool, in that they already have my address, so it's a done deal.)


Hyperion Archon
540 Front Ave.
Columbus Georgia
31901





Send me YOUR Wish Lists, and I'll get YOU something!


Hyperion

Fantasy Football - Oh the humanity

It's just the way my year has gone.


I got home last night, which is a rare thing since injury has left me virtually housebound at all times. I flipped on the TV, and check the internet to see I was up about 16 points with less than a quarter to go.

You will recall that I wrote yesterday that all I needed was DeAngelo Williams to NOT score more than 24.3 points, and I was in the playoffs.

In our league you get 6 points for a Touch Down, but only 1 point every 15 yards running/receiving. (Most leagues are 1 point every 10.)


It looked pretty good for me.

Then Carolina scores. Specifcally, Williams scores. That made it closer than I would like, but I was still up over eight points, and not that worried.

Carolina scored again, but not Williams, and I figured I was looking better.

With two minutes left, I was up 8.4 points. This means that DeAngelo Williams would have to score a Touchdown and get at least 36 yards for me to lose. Tampa Bay was trying desperately to stop Carolina, who was playing conservatively.

I was on the phone with a friend, and I said, "The only thing I have to worry about is if DeAngelo breaks one open, and goes for a Touchdown.

Not one minute later, DeAngelo Williams broke free and scored a Touchdown. The run was 37 yards.

With less than two minutes left, my season went up in smoke. I went from division winner and making the playoffs--after everything bad that happened to my team this season, not to mention my light-damned year--after all that I was on schedule to make the playoffs until that last play.

I give up.

Fantasy Football Update - Playoff Chances

I haven't been updating my Fantasy Football team's fortunes like I did in previous years.

Partly this was due to my feeling that my season basically ended 8 minutes into the first game, when Tom Brady went down for the year.

I lost the first two games by a combined 90.8 points, which has to be some sort of record. I resigned myself to a terrible season.

Then, somehow, most improbably, I managed to win the next five games. You'd think I would be flying high, but I was more embarrassed than anything. A couple of the wins were well earned, but several of them were just plain lucky. Either there was some fluke play, or my opponent happened to sit the wrong person, or I happened to play the lowest scoring team that week. Against any other team I would have lost, but luck....

Last year I was so damn good in the regular season. I didn't just set, but I smashed the regular Season scoring record, as well as the point differential record between my team and second place.

When the playoffs went so badly, it tainted the great season, but still, I did have that. My victories were awe-inspiring, and 5 times in a row (and 7 times overall), I was the league's highest scorer.

This year? I haven't been the high scorer once.

Anyway, my gaudy 5-2 record didn't last, and I lost a couple of games "unluckily". Still, I managed to get to 7 - 4, in great shape to win my division and make the playoffs.

Then, I lost two straight games. However, the other teams in my league were losing too. It's like nobody wanted to win the division.

The bottom line is, I stand at 7-6. My two closest division competitors each 6-7, and playing each other this week. One of them is going to win, making them 7-7. I lose all manor of tie-breakers.

Which means, simply, I have to win. Win, and I win the division. Lose, and I get nothing.

Somehow, my little rag-tag misfits have a shot. Savage Tribe of Ice Whores actually have a shot!

Here's the Sitch:

All my players finished yesterday. Getting a little bit here and there from most of my players, I put up 94 points. My opponent (The Meme-ster's Union) has 69.8, meaning he needs 24.3 to beat me.

Meme-ster has one player left tonight: DeAngelo Williams, a Running Back. 24.3 points is a lot to score, but Williams has scored more than that twice this season, including last week, when he had 29.6

Williams has his high-scoring games at home, which he is this week.

So, it's all set up for me to lose once again. Still, I have a shot.

If any of you pray to small "g" gods, and want to say a prayer that DeAngelo Williams has a fumble or two, that'd be great.

Actually, a pretty good shot.

Injury update #479

I still can't write more than a few words because of the leg. If I had my old Sensa pen (with space pen ink), I could write while lying on my back, and then have my sister type it up, or at least have columns ready when I get better, but alas, I lost that pen in 1998. I still mourn her. (She was red, like my heart.)

What sucks is that lying here, when not in agonizing pain, I have all these great ideas. Oh well.

Don't know when I will be better. Maybe never.

The Soul's Expression

The Soul's Expression
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning


With stammering lips and insufficient sound
I strive and struggle to deliver right
That music of my nature, day and night
With dream and thought and feeling interwound
And only answering all the senses round
With octaves of a mystic depth and height
Which step out grandly to the infinite
From the dark edges of the sensual ground.
This song of soul I struggle to outbear
Through portals of the sense, sublime and whole,
And utter all myself into the air:
But if I did it, - as the thunder - roll
Breaks its own cloud, my flesh would perish there,
Before that dread apocalypse of soul.

Notice

[I sent out this email to my Notification List a few minutes ago:]




Tribe,

I had a plan to review both Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace last Friday. In addition, I was going to compare Casino Royale book vs. movie. I thought this would be interesting for you all, and I had done weeks of research preparing for the column.

Anyway, with my leg I was simply unable to do it. I tried all weekend, with similar lack of success.

I decided last Remembrance/Veterans' Day not to complain about injuries, but I thought I should explain what's going on. It has become apparent to me that I need to shut down the site until I can physically write a column. I have been trying to skate by with "classic" columns and picture-heavy columns that don't have much writing, but I am dissatisfied with that "product," as well as the response.

So, until I can actually write more than say, this email, the Hyperion Institute will be dormant. I will perhaps post on Monkey Barn (http://monkeybarn.blogspot.com) and my blog (http://hyperionjournal.blogspot.com) from time to time, mostly to update on my situation, and because that only takes a couple of minutes to do.

I will send out a notification if/when my leg improves to the point where I can write, and I am posting again. I have no idea when this might be. It might be tomorrow, and it could be next year, or later.

Anyway, that's what's going on. In the meantime, there are literally thousands of pages at the Hyperion Institute you haven't seen yet. Go through Movie Hype for great movie ideas, or Hyperion Chronicles for past columns.


Signing off for now,

Hyperion

Killing Everyone Under 50

So, I was thinking about asking one of the more powerful (and angry) gods I know to kill everyone but me under 50.

50 is just an arbitrary number. I'd be just as happy with 53; happier even (because of the "prime" status), as long as Sela Ward is up there. (Just found out she's 52. Better stick with 50.)

ANYWAY, I was thinking of asking Crom to kill everyone but me under 50, because I think that would be pretty cool. I would instantly be the youngest person in the world, by like a mile, which would make me pretty important, not to mention desirable. All the hot cougars would want me, not to mention the fact that as the world's youngest person, they would probably give me good healthcare, since I might be humankind's greatest hope. Maybe they'd even fix me, or at least maybe I'd get pain medicine that actually worked.

But I didn't do it, because you just know there's always a downside you don't see, and then once you figure it out it's like it's too late, ya know?

Still, it was a nice thought.

Injury/Election/Craving Update #&*

It's 7:59 am, EST, Monday Morning, and I still don't know who the next president will be. This may be the greatest thing I have ever done.

As far as injuries go, I am now seriously considering at what point a wheel chair will become my best option. It's a little ways away, but I can see it from there.

As for my 30 Days without "C," I gave up after 9 days. What can I do? Sometimes the heart wants what is wants.

Injury Update #whateverthehellnumberitis

As you might guess from the title, pain has been immense the last few days. The likely culprit is my voting day misadventure, which I realize I still haven't shared, but that's mostly due to pain and exhaustion. I only ran the Crichton thing because he deserved it. I figure next week is plenty early enough to talk about what happened when I tried to vote, who I voted for, and why I snarled with so much rage in my blog post yesterday.

Anyway, I'm done for now, but will update the blog all weekend. No one reads, but I prefer to think the great goddess Blogger does, so I will do it for her.

Craving Update

I mentioned the other day that as of November 1, I was giving up "C." It has been brutal. So far I have been strong, although Tuesday night I almost slipped. Temptation was right in front of me, and I so wanted to succumb.

But even though I won that battle, I can't stop thinking about it. My urges are stronger than ever; they permeate my thoughts. How on earth do people ever give stuff up?

Election Update

Right now it is 7:27 on Friday morning. I STILL don't know who was elected. It's a silly thing, but I find myself more proud of this accomplishment than anything I have done in awhile.

My parents found out I didn't know and my mom got upset. She held up newspapers all night trying to catch me off guard. I know there is no way it will last, but I feel like Kramer in that episode where he wanted to see how far below "E" the car could go.

I'm just along for the ride.

Still Ignorant

It is 6:06 am Thursday morning, and I have somehow still managed to stay unaware of who the president-elect is. At this point it's like a game. How much TV do I have to avoid? I thought ESPN would be safe, but no. I have stuck to TNT and USA mostly. Comedy Central is out, and the Music Channels are too dangerous as well. I feel like I'm going to win some sort of prize if I stay ignorant the longest.

I got several emails questioning my strategy, and otherwise calling me Fool. For the record, I have nothing personal against either major candidate. However, I don't think either is the one for the job, and I don't support either. I think I would be much better, and any election that ends up without me as a winner is very sad. Why would I want to watch that?

As for the "history" factor, what a bunch of bullshit. I'm not saying whatever happened is not historical. Whether Obama won, making him the first half African American (Halfrican American? probably not) to win, or McCain shocked everyone, defied the polls, and became the oldest person elected, it was historical.

But here is the thing: elections are ALWAYS historical. How damned arrogant are we to continually think we're the fulcrum of history? Every generation has immense struggles, and they care (and don't care) in equal measures. Whoever they are electing, it's as important to their lives as ours. Just because we don't remember the elections as important doesn't mean they weren't.

I will prove what I am saying: the election of 1876 is easily one of the three most important elections in American history. Ten bucks for ANYONE who can tell me without looking it up who ran, what the outcome was, and why that was all significant.

Don't lecture me, you troglodytes, unless you want a can of historical whoopass opened up on ya.

Maybe you get my point. Every election is important, or not important, however you're looking at them. Things always change, or they don't. I am a student of history, and I want to know the essentials of every election.

But watching the Pageant of the Transmundane we call Election Night Coverage is not the way to do that. Either way it will be verbal masturbation, with pundits falling all over themselves to proclaim what "this" or "that" means, waxing eloquent about Change or ranting about racism. Why would I wan that?


Two months from now I will know more about this election than you do, and I don't say that arrogantly, but as a reflection of how much time and energy I will pour into researching every angle, covered or not. But equally helpful will be the fact that I didn't watch it live.

Unless everything I know about the world is wrong, I'm guessing no one got above 55% or below 45%. That doesn't make me a genius; it almost never happens. Understand what that means:

Let's say for argument that Candidate A got 55%, the outer limit of what I think is imaginable. This means that OVER HALF THE PEOPLE ARE DISAPPOINTED. How do I get those numbers, you ask?

Well, everyone who voted for the other guy is less than thrilled, and you absolutely know that upwards of a quarter of the people vote for the lesser of evils, in their minds. QED.

It's the same every election. Most people end up unhappy, but life goes on. You rally around the new guy for a short time, then all hell breaks loose again.

But that's not what we'll hear. No matter what happens, I guarantee you we'll hear about "mandates." Horseshit. The "mandate" is the victory itself, the right to become president, which all winners get, no matter how they go there. As for the "will" of the electorate, go back up a few paragraphs.

Of the people who voted for the winner, they did so for their own reasons. Each of them, which is totally cool. Voting is always an individual thing. The idea of voting for the country is mostly propaganda, since no one can say with any certainty who would be better. You vote the guy you want who you think will help your life, and even then it's a crapshoot.

(I know some of you are agog at the idea that you don't vote with the country in mind. Fair enough. Give me a few days and we'll have a big discussion. I will take on any and all comers who are willing to put time into it and render a thoughtful opinion.)

I feel myself getting angrier, and definitely going afield, so let me return to my central point. I am not disinterested in the election. I am passionately interested in politics, in the "best" sense of the word: ideas for shaping our future.

But I know what is real and what isn't, and Coverage the other night was anything but real. As the inauguration is ten weeks away I have plenty of time. For now, I am just enjoying the quiet.

Voting

So, I voted. It was a fucking nightmare, not because of anyone, just the way the day unfolded.

I am going to wait until I have healed a little before writing about it, but suffice it to say, I have easily set myself back two weeks.

In other news, it is 6:10 am e.s.t., and I still don't know who the president-elect is. For several reasons,** I wanted nothing to do with the coverage last night, and elected for complete avoidance. I I ended up having a movie night with my sister. Initially we watched the Simpsons Halloween Special, and then we were supposed to see JFK, but I talked her into FIGHT CLUB.

By avoiding most TV and all pernicious internet I can leave it alone for awhile longer.

I was going to write a big post-mortem on the election and various other political things, but frankly, I want to see how long I can go without knowing.


** Just in case you were wondering: I'm skipping coverage because I cannot stand cable news, particularly in something like this. I would rather have elected Maxine Waters than suffer any of the Talking Heads last night.

More importantly (at least to me), it saddens me that I am not in charge. Call me crazy, but I seriously doubt I got more than a few votes, and in ways I will never be able to describe to you, I weep for the world whenever power changes hands and mine is not one of them.

Oh the fuck well. Boo hoo for me, right?

At least I can get a few more hours of peace. With luck I can avoid knowledge at least one more day.

Injury Update #475

The "going over at 6:30 to vote" plan has been jetissoned, partly because I didn't get my post up, and partly because I have to take my sister, and she didn't get over until after 3.

The new plan calls for going at 9:30, after decent people have hopefully gone to work. I have a lot of pain from last night's library trip, but so far I'm still planning this debacle.

Injury Update #474

Went to the library tonight. I didn't actually go in (my sister did that), but I drove there and back.

The driving itself wasn't too horrible, but sitting and waiting in the car, it was rather painful. I think I can sit for about twenty minutes before it really starts becoming unbearable.

We went by the polling place on the way home. A good sign that no one was lined up already.

My current plan is to go half an hour before they open, and if there's already a line, come back at mid-morning.

Crom as my witness, at least SOMEONE will vote for Hyperion this year.

Craving "C"

I decided to give something up as of November. Let's call it "C." I didn't want to give this up, but I looked at my life and realized I had to do something. My thought process is that if I can go 30 days without it, I won't need it any more, and could handle it in moderation.

Problem: Absolute craving of C. I don't remember wanting C this much last week. I guess that's how it works, huh? Once you give something up, you want it even more.

I have no idea if I can make it the whole thirty days, but I'm going to give it my best shot.

[Shudders]

Injury Update #473

I decided to start numbering these injury updates, more for my own grim amusement than any reader value.

It's been something like 17 days since this current cycle of crippledness. I am beyond hoping it will be a quick thing, and am now praying for the 4-6 week length, which I have had before. (Worse is the 3-4 month length. I cannot handle that.)

The worse part is that one day I will think it's getting good enough to almost walk, but then the next day the pain is through the roof. At this point the swelling on the outside is gone. The only physical remains are what feels like a bruise on the inside half of the upper foot/ankle, and of course the ever-present pain.

Why is this important? Well, about three days in I managed to take a 20 minute car ride, but since then I have not left the house. Countless books at the library have come and gone. I waited sometimes months for these books, but they only give you five days. But that's not the most important thing.

Voting.

If only I'd known, I'd have asked for a paper ballot, but I think you had to ask by October 6, and I never have any clue this is coming. Anyway, my parents have both early voted, and reported 90 minute wait times. That doesn't look promising, but still, I may go by the courthouse (or wherever it is) and see.

If not, that leaves Tuesday.

Here's the problem. Waiting in line. I can hobble, more of less, though I will pay a price for it. I'm pretty sure I can get to the car, and probably drive over there. (It's my sister's first time voting, so she's going with me.)

Once there, though, there may be a wait. Standing more than a minute is pretty much unbearable, and sitting is not much better. I can probably sit for ten minutes with my legs down, but after that.....

What makes matters more complicated is that our voting area has a lot of older people, who might want a chair as much as I. Plus, most of our area is Black. I mention this only because the prediction is record turnout in the Black community. Which could mean gigantic wait times to vote. Which means this could become a very dangerous matter for me.

Even more complicated is my need for a paper ballot, but we can talk about that another time.

Injury Update

It's been two weeks now, and my right ankle is bad as ever. My left ankle started to go down, which would mean I would be reduced to outright crawling.

As any crawling would take me past the cat's litter box, I am loathe to make it to this step.

I immediately put three socks on each foot, not for warmth, but in hopes that the swelling might stay down. (I will put up with sweating if it keeps the swelling down.)

I had a couple of iffy days with the left ankle, but it seems to be holding. The right one, however, is just killing me.

Meanwhile, I think I wrote about the candy bars in the freezer outside my bedroom door. Well, after crawling around on my floor, I finally came up with 5o pennies, and I had myself a Twix! Yay me.

Of course, with the proceeds, now we have little Hershy's Dark Minatures. They're 2 for a quarter, and just one is thirteen cents. I have two cents already, so that means if I can somehow find 11 more, I'm golden, baby.

Frustration

Let me tell you about frustration.

My mom bought these candy bars at Sam's Club, with the idea that anyone who wants one has to put $0.50 into a little tupperware container (in the freezer, where we're keeping the candy bars), and that way, when all the candy bars are gone we'll have money to buy a self-sustaining treat. Sort of how an employees' soda machine might work. I mean, obviously we can't be buying candy bars with our grocery money, but doing it that one time means that we can buy (something) every time we finish the previous item, because it will have paid for the next thing.

Does that make sense?

Anyway, here's the frustrating part. With being crippled, I really can't go anywhere. Bathroom trips are murder. I go as rarely as possible. I have basically stopped drinking, and constipation is my friend. (More on that another time.)

Meanwhile, the kitchen is the opposite direction from the bathroom. Well, at some point you simply MUST go pee, but I have found that no matter how hungry you are, enough pain will trump it every time. It's almost never worth the additional hour of agony it costs to stumble out to the kitchen and find food.

But here's where the candy bars come in:

For reasons I have yet to understand, our "big" freezer is located right outside my door in the hallway. This means that I pass it every time I go to the bathroom. As long as I'm passing by, it's not that much trouble to open the door and snag a candy bar, right? A nice little treat to make the days less agonizing?

Except, where on Earth am I going to come up with $0.50?

And now you see the frustration.

Lady Jane Scarlett Teaches Hyperion a New Word

I'm not saying I have the world's biggest vocabulary, but it is voluminous. Therefore, it is always a small surprise (and a large treat) when I learn a new word, and from one of my Reader comments, no less! (Although: most of my reader comments are pretty top-notch.)

Anyway, the word is:


ESURIENT

The definition: extremely hungry; ardently or excessively desirous; gluttonous or greedy.


What a great word! I can't wait to use it in a conversation. (And if you know me, you know this will come up. I am rapacious when it comes to all my desires, be they physical, sensual, intellectual or what have you.)


Now I know a new word!

And so do you.

Retrospotting: Matt LeBlanc

So, I'm flipping around early this morning, not really looking for something to watch; more looking for near-nudity, which is the best I can hope for on basic cable.

(At 5:30 on a Saturday morning, the pickings were slim. Suze Orman is not likely to take anything off, which can't but be a good thing; a replay of the second round of the LPGA Kapalua Classic might score me some tan calves, but that's about it; and Land of the Anaconda would only have possibilities on Skinemax, not TLC. Sadly, there wasn't a GGW informercial in sight.)

Anyway, I flipped to TBS, to a sitcom clearly from the late '80s/early '90s. The sound was off so I couldn't hear the tell-tale audience laughter, but the camera angles felt like Married.....With Children, except none of the Bundy clan were visible.



Instead, there were two guys in tuxedos, obviously Queens, NY Italian-American Blue Collar goombas trying to fit into high society. (I had captions.)

What makes this post-worthy is that one of them was Joey! Or should I say, Matt Leblanc!

Turns out that it WAS Married.....With Children, and the episode was a back-door pilot for a spinoff called Top of the Heap (later retooled as Vinnie and Bobby).

Matt LeBlanc played Vinnie Verducci, a moron Italian-American from New York who had zero intelligence but knew how to handle himself with the ladies.

I mean, it was flat-out creepy!

I always thought that the Friends character Joey was a complete original, not that there haven't been dumb guys in TV shows before, but that Matt LeBlanc took the character and created him from scratch, giving us the loveable Joey.

Now I know that's bogus. Obviously the creators of Friends at some point saw LeBlanc in Top of the Heap or Married.....With Children or whatever; they saw him playing Vinnie Verducci. They decided that's what they were looking for in their Joey, and that's how he got the gig.

Vinnie and Joey are too amazingly similar for there to be any other conclusion.

Canadian Thanksgiving

We celebrated Canadian Thanksgiving Monday night. Why? Well, we used to live in Canada, and wanted to honor our time there.

Actually, it was more an excuse to have a nice meal, but that works for me.

It was all Jerrica's idea, and she set the meal up, planned it, and even paid for it. Then, come Monday, it looked like all plans were off, as our oven didn't work. (Actually, this wouldn't have been too big a deal, since--as I have detailed on these pages before--Canadians are pretty liberal about when they celebrate their holidays.)

But my dad got the right oven part (a coil? maybe. I have no knowledge of these things), and we got to celebrate.

Jerrica made:

Parmesan Garlic Mashed Potatoes

Green Bean Casserole with the French Onion topping

Rolls (from the store, but baked anyway)

Pumpkin AND Pecan Pie

Sparking grape juice (as well as 7-Up and Ginger Ale)

and for the main course....

A Chicken/Stuffing/Gravy dish. I don't know what you call it, but it's fantastic. I tell you the truth: I might like it better than turkey. Well, maybe not, but when you consider how much easier it is to make and how often the turkey gets all dried out (and how everyone in my family but my brother steals the white meat), maybe the chicken/stuffing/gravy thing is the way to go.

It was a great meal, and thanks to Jerrica!

When does the suckage end?

I hate being hurt! I had every day between now and the Election tightly planned, to get in all the Halloween stories, tributes and political columns I wanted. Here it is Wednesday and I'm already 3 days behind schedule.

I so need a secretary.

Apprehension/Confidence heading into MNF

I realized that my opponent has one player left (QB Eli Manning) playing tonight, while I have none. On the other hand, I have a 32.5 point lead.

Obviously the Quarterback is the greatest potential scorer, and obviously 32.5 is a large amount for any one player to score.

I got curious as to what my level of Apprehension/Confidence should be. So, I made a little chart:


1 point behind to 7 point ahead - You have basically resigned yourself to losing, but somewhere in the back of your head you concoct "3 interception 2 fumble" scenarios where you might somehow win.

Ahead by 8 - 15 - You're very pessimistic about victory, but you feel a tinge of crazy hope. You obsess over the quarterback's scoring average, and pray for rain.

16 - 22 - Your gut still hurts a bit, but you feel cautiously optimistic. You still appease the football gods by employing as many reverse jinxes as possible, such as graciously conceding defeat on the message board.

23 - 32 - You feel good, but not great. You figure out exactly how those points translate (yardage and TDs), and you hope for hand-offs. You watch the game, still not able to relax until five minutes left in the fourth quarter.

33 - 41 - You're confident. One interception should do it. A quarter and a half without much scoring should do the trick as well. Somewhere in the back of your mind is that crazy thought of "what if?" but you mostly let it go. Actually, it would confirm your suspicions that the Universe is out to get you, so it's win-win.

42 - 53 - You're over-confident, cocky even. You moon the gods, and mercilessly talk trash on the Message Board. You might not even watch the game since your victory is "so in the bag."

>53 - You attempt to sleep with your opponent's wife/mother/sister/daughter

>75 - You attempt to sleep with your opponent's QUARTERBACK'S wife/mother/sister/daughter.


These statistics only apply to your opponent having 1 QB left to play in the Monday night game, although I'm sure we could produce a matrix to encompass all possibilities.

Life on Mars Update

Continued from Earlier.....

I finally found the shows I was looking for (Life on Mars and The Eleventh Hour) and got them watched. Unfortunately, it's 5:38, and I still have to write them both up.

Sigh. Friday's plans are smashed. Everyone is off work now.

What a total FML moment.

Why do I suck so much?

So, what kind of idiot am I?

I had all these plans for this morning: review three new shows (Eleventh Hour, Kath & Kim, Life on Mars), plus talk about the Season Premiere of CSI, with the whole Warrick thing. And maybe a Top Ten List.

So what do I do?

Oversleep.

I wake up at 1:00 AM, scrambling to find the shows online, which of course is almost impossible. I find Life on Mars for download, only to realize after I get it that it's the wrong one!

I'm not talking about the British version (which the American show is inspired from). I mean they made a pilot of the American show, THEN they rewrote the pilot, and recast it as well.

ARGH!

I just wasted 1 hour of my life falling in love with a show THAT WILL NEVER HAVE ANOTHER EPISODE.

I hate life.

Thankfully, the main character is coming back, but everyone else is replaced, so now I have to watch the same (or probably similar) plot show with new actors playing the same characters. You know how creepy that is?

Furry?

When I was researching my column on John Keats, the subject of, uh, orally pleasing a woman came up. I was looking for euphemisms, finally going with the standard "Cunning Linguist."

But I think my favorite euphemism that I came across was,

"Drinking from the Furry Cup."

Pics that didn't make the cut

I wrote a column on a John Keats poem this morning. Initially it was a Hyperion-X, but when it got cut down to regular column, not only did the racy talk have to go, but some of the pictures. There is nothing pornographic about them, but they are erotic. I present them here (and if you're easily offended, don't look).

No way this Leonardo painting makes the regular column. Pretty sweet, though.


She looks so bored!


You go, Ancient Greeks!



Nothing really offensive about this one, but it's more of a "Gather Ye Rosebuds" kind of painting.


You see, I really respect these people. They can't wait until after the party. Hell, they can't even wait to get upstairs!





I have no idea what the hell is going on here.


The painting right above this one? It's a freaking basket of fruit by comparison. What the hell, man?

This was the last to get cut. I almost thought I could pass this water-maiden off as a Devon Maid.

"I don't want....your life!"

Update:

Haven't thrown up again, but I'm still watching VARSITY BLUES. I forgot just how many quotable lines there are in this movie. (And I've seen it at least 20 times.)

I totally forgot about the insane brother who thinks he's different religious figures. (You haven't lived until you've seen a white southern 10 year old dressed as Malcom X say, "Ah Salaam Alaikum" while buying condoms.

Oh wait. the Whipped Cream scene just came on. Back later.

Puke and Rally!

I've been so sick all week. I hate being sick. It throws off my whole writing schedule. (I know it seems like I post about just any old thing, but I really do have a schedule.)



I was going to just take it easy this weekend, when the OJ verdict came in a few minutes ago. I don't care much about OJ, but it reminded me of the last time a big OJ verdict came in. That was a real Flashbulb Moment for many people. (They remember when and where they were, what they were doing, etc.)

I remember how big a case that was. I remember being in California at the time, and what an impact that verdict (and the fears leading up to it in a Post-Rodney King Word) had. I remember my anger at smug White America, assuming Black America was too stupid to see what they obviously believed.

(For the record, I find it fairly likely that OJ committed the crimes, but from a legal perspective, it never should have been brought to trial, and from the legal threshold of guilt, the jury absolutely did the right thing. People say he got away with murder because he was famous. That often happens, but in this case, with that evidence, his fame was the only reason the trial took place.)

Anyway, the OJ verdict stirred up emotions in me, and I thought maybe I can bang out a coherent column.

Then immediately after, I threw up the vegetable soup I ate.

Did I mention I hate being sick?

When I came back to my room, VARSITY BLUES was on TBS. It was the scene where Billy-Bob loses the Drinking Contest and runs and throws up in the washer (right next to where Ali Larter and Paul Walker are having sex against the dryer).



Billy-Bob turns to the couple and says, "If you're hungry I left a few hot dogs in there."

Then he turns to the crowd and yells, "Puke and Rally! Puke and Rally!" before heading back into drink.


Maybe that will be me.

Puke and Rally! Puke and Rally!

Oh, I gotta go. That sexy teacher/stripper who looks like Sarah Palin just came on screen. Maybe TBS will forget to edit.

A Chair full of Bowlies

I was watching Morning Joe (on MSNBC) a few minutes ago, waiting for a computer to open up. Why would I do this when I loathe virtually all political talk shows, especially the morning ones? I'm not entirely sure. Sometimes I also watch CNN's Morning Edition or FOX and Friends for a few minutes. I think it's because of self-loathing on my part.



It might also be because of Mika Brzezinski. The woman just forever pisses me off. I don't ever agree with the Scarborough guy on anything, but he at least comes off as reasonable and affable. Not Mika. She's one angry dame, and there is nothing more infuriating than righteous anger fueled by abject ignorance.

Anyway, just now, I was watching the predictable Rush to Blame about the failed bailout vote. Shockingly, CNN and MSNBC blame Republicans in general (and Bush and McCain specifically), while FOX will blame Pelosi.

(I didn't actually see Fox, but I'd stake my life on this. And, to be fair, Pelosi took some hits on MSNBC, but only so that they could blame Republicans for being so small-minded because of her speech. Yeah, that was what actually happened. They went in there ready to vote for the bill--totally ignoring the 100-to-1 calls and emails against from voters--but then got their feelings hurt. Hey: I hate Republicans and Democrats, and would destroy them both if I could, but give me a break. That's the story you're going to go with? Sadly, watch the Left believe this, just like the Right will believe it was an inside job by Pelosi. Sigh.)

ANYWAY, the reason I am writing this post is because the panel was talking to some Lefty, hitting hard about the market tumble yesterday. The guy pointed out that the market lost 1.2 trillion dollars, or as Joe put it, twice as much as the 700 billion bailout would have cost. (Yeah, I saw the math mistake too. Ignore it and keep reading for the big finish.)

The idea that the bailout would have been (ahem) 500 billion dollars cheaper than what the market lost is so ludicrous as to ALMOST be beyond belief. I have to assume that MSNBC thinks its viewers are that dumb. Hell, maybe they believe it.

But numbers don't lie, Hyperion!

Right. They don't. But without interpretation, they can be meaningless. The spin on MSNBC (and, I'm sure, other places by tonight), is akin to the following:

You walk into the store, and see a sweet overstuffed chair you have had your eyes on. The chair sells for $600, none of which you don't have. However, for some reason it is selling for 50% off!

What do you do? You buy the chair the chair. How do you pay for it? WITH THE THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS YOU JUST SAVED!

Some of you are shaking your head right now. Some of you are trying to do math. Sadly, others are wondering where they can go get that sweet chair!

Conversation with Tracy Lynn

The following is an actual GMail Chat conversation with Tracy Lynn of Kaply Inc. I have not edited it in any way. I don't even know where to begin analyzing it. I have met quite a few bad compliment-takers in my day, but Tracy Lynn takes the cake.

9:13 PM me: TL,

Tracy: Hey, H

9:14 PM me: I have been under limited internet access lately, but one thing I have been doing is pulling up various pages when I had the laptop online, to read back at home

one of them was yours

it doesn't allow me to comment, but I have been following, best I can

And I wanted to say that I am impressed with your writing. I think it's some of the best you've done

9:15 PM Tracy: Thanks sweetie. I am doing better today, but laying low for the weekend

me: I understand

I also wanted to say:

when I was going through columns 400-500, for a recent column, this included all the askhats. some of them blew me away with how good they are. I am proud that I got to do that with you, and you should be too

9:16 PM Tracy: If you are thinking of killing yourself I am going to be VERY ANGRY

9:17 PM And I am very proud of those, as well

me: YOU'RE THE WORST COMPLIMENT TAKER EVER!

Tracy: Duh

I've been peeing out my ass for a week

me: can I print this last exchange in my blog?

Tracy: Yes

9:18 PM me: swagina!

Tracy: Is that your new word?

Because I hate it

me: I've had it for awhile

it's not a bad word, but it sounds like a portmanteau

Tracy: No it doesn't.

me: yeah it does

Tracy: Portmanteau sounds like portmanteau

9:19 PM me: don't be a dork

Tracy: Swagina sounds like when you tried to get me to say mango all the time

me: MANGO IS STILL COMING!

don't hate on mango

Tracy: NO IT IS NOT

me: I like taking "Sweet" and adding it to another word, in portmanteau fashion

Tracy: IT WILL NEVER BE HIP TO SAY MANGO

me: maybe Switoris?

9:20 PM Tracy: NO

It makes you sound like you are 13

me: Swacylynn

Tracy: I officially give up

me: Swinja!

Tracy: Dude, that is just sad

9:21 PM Like your lesbian bacon fixation

me: you words can't hurt me (sniff sniff)

Tracy: They can if I back them up with a tit punch\

Or a stick

9:22 PM me: you sound like my last date

Tracy: Now we have entered the realm of outright delusion

You did not have a date

9:23 PM me: boy, you really know how to perk a guy up, huh?

Tracy: Yeah, I'm afreaid that realists make the worst cheer mongers

9:24 PM me: trudat

Tracy: DEATH TO ALL CHEER MONGERS

me: that should be your new motto

9:25 PM Tracy: Dude, I think of so much shit that I am changing the about me every five minutes these days

me: I'll make it my new motto in honor of you. Getting tired of Nietzsche anyway

Tracy: Nietzsche was an asshat

me: there

9:26 PM stay swangry, okay?

Tracy: A cretinous twat

Nietzsche, not you, at the moment anyway

me: I know

Tracy: Have a good weekend

SEE WHAT I MEAN???

Comics continue to define my Life

This is so me it's not even funny

Best Joke I've come up with this week

What did one African American blood-sucking demon hog say to the other?


(answer in comments. I promise this isn't a racist joke.)

Shimmering Sadness

Once upon a time her scent assaulted;
sultry
sex
sensual
sin.
Now Sadness shimmers off her body in waves.
Her eyes see no sight to comfort,
Her lips speak no sound to heal.
Her skin seals her together,
Stopping the exsanguination of sorrow
While her soul splits at the seams.

Sadness is not learned;
It is earned.

Uncle Miltie and the Feral Dogs

"Money can't buy you happiness, but it helps you look for it in a lot more places."
~Milton Berle

I have to confess I hadn't quite gotten into the spirit of Fantasy Football this year. It's not a hangover from my '07 end of the Season Debacle; it's merely that I've been concentrating on other things, and preoccupied. However, last night something happened to get me into the swing of things.

As luck would have it, for the first time since the draft started Monday, 11 (of the 12) of us are all online at once. Sadly, the 12th guy was the one whose turn it was, so we're all kind of sitting there twiddling our thumbs.

One guy--I'll call him "Chevy,"--quips that it sure seems slow this year. (When I say quips, I mean writes on the Live Draft Message Board. You have to imagine a fast-moving space where 12 guys regularly trash each other. In fact, let that be your warning for the rest of what I'm about to reveal.)

Anyway, I shoot back at Chevrolet that maybe it's not the Draft that's slow, but him. Why do I do this? It's the Message Board, baby. (Also: Chevy made fun of my team last year.)

I then go for the double joke, a Hyperion Classic. "Just kidding," I say, then stick the knife back in. "Actually, from every woman and feral dog I talk to, you're not slow at all. They say you're quite fast on the trigger."

Laughs all around.

(If you don't know what that means, I'm not explaining it. Well, okay. Try here.)

Chevy's a pretty good sport, and he chimes in that he might name his team "Feral Dogs" for this season. Then "Endcat" pops up to ask how, logically, Chevy could have domesticated dogs yet they are still feral. (It's like he was setting me up, although I swear we didn't plan it.)

I jump right back in. "They're feral because Chevy hasn't taught them to come yet."

Okay, so we're 12 years old. It's still pretty hilarious.


In case you're interested, as of Round 9 this is my team so far:

Tom Brady QB NWE
Joseph Addai RB IND
Adrian Peterson RB MIN
Kevin Curtis WR PHI
Jerricho Cotchery WR NYJ
Santonio Holmes WR PIT
Vernon Davis TE SFO
Jason Taylor DL WAS
Antonio Cromartie DB SDG

My 5th Rounder Curtis is already hurt, forcing me to take a 3rd WR early, which means I few defensive players so far, putting me behind the 8-ball, but whatcha gonna do?

My team for the Draft is "Uncle Miltie," which I may or may not keep for the season. Uncle Miltie is of course Milton Berle, early TV star and comedian. The reason I chose this name is because of how dominant my team was last year, and my plans to switch things up.

This goes back to Milton Berle. Besides being a legendary performer, Milton was also legendary for being...um, blessed by God. Even his Wikipedia page mentions it!

Berle was also famous within show business for the rumored size of his penis. Phil Silvers once told a story about standing next to Berle at a urinal, glancing down, and quipping, "You'd better feed that thing, or it's liable to turn on you!" Saturday Night Live writer Alan Zweibel, who had written many Friars Club jokes about Berle's penis for other comedians, described being treated to a private showing: "He just takes out this— this anaconda. He lays it on the table and I'm looking into this thing, right? I'm looking into the head of Milton Berle's dick. It was enormous. It was like a pepperoni. And he goes, 'What do you think of the boy?' And I'm looking right at it and I go, 'Oh, it's really, really nice.'" At a memorial service for Berle at the New York Friars' Club, Freddie Roman solemnly announced, "On May 1st and May 2nd, his penis will be buried."

My favorite story about Uncle Miltie's, um, blessedness involves the periodic challenges. Apparently, outside the ladies, no one ever saw the full package. It would go like this.....

Some young buck, new to Hollywood, would approach Milton Berle, and bring up the endowment, saying, ""I hear you've got the biggest dick in comedy."

And Miltie would say back to him, "Well, I'm a modest man..."

And the kid says, "Come on... we'll have a contest."

And Miltie says, "No no no..."

and the kid says, "Come on... we'll have a contest..."

And Miltie says, "Kid, gimme a break."

and the kid says, "You chicken, Miltie? I'll whip out mine and you whip out yours and we'll see whose is bigger! Come on!"

and Miltie smiles and says, "Fine. But I'm only taking out enough to win."

That's my plan for Fantasy Football. No more crushing teams by 40, making them look horrible. My new plan is to bench my starters on Monday Nights, and tantalize my opponent that maybe they have a chance, while knowing they don't. In other words, I plan on doing just enough to win.


Hyperion
August 22, 2008

Oh, Miltie!

When We Two Parted

When We Two Parted
by George Gordon, Lord Byron


When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow--
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shrudder comes o'er me--
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee so well--
Long, long I shall rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met--
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?--
With silence and tears.