Hyperion vs. the Universe

Wishlist

2011-12-10T09:25:00.001-05:00

Not that I need presents, but many people want to give them to me, both because of my Future Emperorship (excellent idea, sucking up), and my overall kickassian ways.

I have an Amazon Wishlist - which you can use for ideas.

OR,

if you pick something off the wishlist - it will actually send it to me, and I have it set up so that it won't tell me, either, it will be a surprise.

OR,

You can always bake me cookies and send them (and other presents) to the address listed on the Amazon Wish List. I ain't scrrd of you - but if you stalk me, best be aware, I have a Legion, and they're armed.

Here is my AMAZON WISHLIST.

PLUS,

For those who are on hard times, I have a separate Wishlist made of items all under $15. Feel free to use that one, too.

I update these wishlists every time I run into something new, so feel free to check back and send presents often!

And if you're just not into the Christmas thing, remember - my birthday is December 31st. I KNOW you want to get me something for that, right?

As for the picture above, you may wonder what it is I wanted there. Did you see the awesome table???

Daffy Duck, Troubadour

2011-11-16T02:14:00.012-05:00

It hasn't been the best Fall TV season; in fact, it's been one of the worst in recent memory. But one of the bright spots is The Looney Turnes Show, a crazy attempt to take the Looney Tunes characters and put them in a Sitcom.

I'll let you think about that for a minute.

[eating carrot in nonchalant way while waiting, not unlike a certain cool-as-hell Bunny....]

Sounds crazy, right?

Somehow it works - and if you had any love for Buggs and crew I recommend it whole-heartily. (new episodes are on Cartoon Network Tuesdays at 8, but they rerun the episodes all the time, so just check for it).

One of the biggest revelations has been Daffy Duck. I never realized with a sociopath he is. All the Looney Tunes characters have mental health issues (I'm working on a list of them for a column), but Daffy takes the cake. his pathological narcissism is so all-encompassing it's almost inspiring.

Which makes what happened on tonight's episode all the more fascinating.

One of the really cool things the Looney Tunes Show does is 1 minute music videos as they are going to commercial. The songs are sung by various Looney Tunes characters but are not necessarily related to the plot of that week's episode.

So, last night the video section had Porky Pig asking how you know you're in love. Daffy Duck supplies the answer, singing a ballad while playing the piano.

I can't tell you how strange this is. After all the episodes of Daffy totally focused inward - to hear him tenderly explain Love was....well, it was something.

The song starts off slowly and then gets brisker as the lyrics get ever more...bizarre. I would much rather show you the video, but I have been unable to find it anywhere. (Even finding the lyrics was impossible. I had to write them down myself while listening to the song - which took endless rewinding and pausing - and then like 9 kinds of idiot I didn't save the notepad document and my computer crashed shortly thereafter. It took me forever to track them down again, as by then I had deleted the episode.)

Anyway, I don't have the video, so you'll have to bear with me. The Song is funny enough that you should get the jist of it.

The crazy part - as bugnutz insane as this song is - Daffy essentially gets it right. This IS what being in love is like. [Some of my spelling is off because I have tried to re-create how Daffy draws out the words.

"That's How You Know You're In Love"
(Written and performed by Daffy Duck and uknown background singer(s))

[slowly, Daffy at the piano, half singing, half talking, the way lounge singers sometimes do - and Porky standing right next to him]

How do you know when you're in love?
Well, you came to the right frie-end.
Love is like an ice cream sundae -
That you think is never gonna eh--ennd.
Love make you feel all ting---gell-ly, light-headed and pretty,
Just like a.....700-foot robot that's invading a city....

[aside - spoken]
Porky: uh, uh...Robot?
Daffy: Exactly

[uptempo]
But you're not an evil robot -
You're a robot looking for love.
But there's not a lot of giant 700 foot robots around....to love.
So you glue a bunch of smaller robots together
And make one big super robot,
And you and your robot go out to brunch,
And by the end of brunch you're in love.
Trust me, that's exactly what it's like to be in love.

Then you and your robot lover destroy the entire Schenectady Turnpike,
'Cause you're doing a robot love-dance and you don't care what it looks like.
And when the armies of the world come to fight you, you get into your spaceship,
And you tenderly embrace while you fly into space,
'cause Earth's not ready for your giant robot love.

That's how you know you're love.
[unknown voice] (Find yourself a robot to love)
That's how you feel when you're in love.

[at this point Porky and Daffy have some back-and-forth that I didn't get copied down. Basically Porky can't understand what Daffy is trying to say, so Daffy offers a completely different helpful analogy.]

It's just like you're merman, that's 700 feet tall,
And you're looking for a lady merman, to love.

[aside - spoken]
Porky: Don't you mean Mermaid?
Daffy: Don't interrupt

But the ocean is a massive place,
And there's not a lot of lady mermen,
So in order to increase your chances
You travel to the Undersea Merman Mall
That's where fish and mollusks go to find love.
And you find a female merman who is working at a kiosk
Selling cellphone covers and personalized key chains.
Your hand brushes one of her tentacles and she just melts inside.
The manager gets insanely jealous
And stabs you with his trident and you're dead.
[unknown voice] (Stabs you with his trident and you're dead.)
That's how you know you're in loooooooove!

Daffy - who knew! Every once in awhile, he just gets it. As crazy as this song sounds - that's exactly what it's like!!!

UPDATE!

November 19

I finally found the video so you can watch it for yourself! I did a good job of describing, if I do't say so myself.

If it's a bluff

2011-11-02T07:39:00.000-04:00

If it's a bluff it's a damn good bluff, and should be awarded credit. But what if it's not? There's no way to bring it up without showing weakness myself, if I'm wrong. I'll figure out a way. And if not, well, that's when you take out the big stick and head back into the jungle.

Imagine Herman Cain

2011-10-17T17:17:00.011-04:00

[The following has nothing to do with politics in a traditional sense, either mine, yours or Mr. Cain's. It's more about how people make major decisions in their lives.]

Herman Cain is a great story, but we all know he will not get the nomination, let alone the presidency. He will never fit the mold of expected conventionality the way Perry, Romney, or even Obama does.

It's too bad for Cain's sake that he does not have someone with once-in-a-generation bravery and imagination working for him, because the video below - back when Cain worked for the pizza industry, is goofy, inoffensive, and funny, but more than that, holds the one small sliver of out-of-the-box thinking that might get Cain to "stick" in people's minds the way that is necessary to get elected in the new world.

I am telling you with 100% sincerity that Herman Cain should start singing at all his campaign appearances. It would defy everything we know. It would make him a laughingstock, a source of constant late-night derision, angst and troubling echoes to a sordid racially charged past for American Entertainment and politics.

And it just might make Herman Cain the next president.

I know, you don't agree with me. I barely agree with me, and I'm a genius. It's so counter-intuitive that it's almost impossible to wrap your head around.

People, the president is not your Mommy. He's not your Daddy, though that's what people seem to think, what they hope for. The president has never had the control over the Economy that people think. Read the Constitution: it's not even in his job description.

If the past 20 years have taught us nothing else - and they haven't - it's that the president cannot solve your problems, no matter how much you want him to. At some point people will grasp this on an unconscious level, even if they do not agree.

So what does that leave?

In the modern world, people need their president to give them something else, something different, not forced down their throats on the advice of marketing experts, but a part of who they are, a part that sticks out, gives people something else to think about. This is why the myriad low-grade controversies that followed Clinton actually helped him, they made him memorable and interesting. People don't want to consider the idea that they pick their president in the same way that they pick what to watch on Thursday Night TV, but they do.

Whatever politics and priorities a candidate says he has change once he becomes president, and is forced to deal with the reality, not the theory of his lofty goals. Whatever is left gets compromised - sometimes out of recognition, with his opponents, with the changing needs of the country and public zeitgeist, and that which does get put into Law never acts according to how it was drawn up.

In other words, the practical, real-world relationship a person has with their president is by far most influenced by the quality of the four-year reality show that the modern presidency is. The jokes. The family. The controversies. The scandals. The Fashion. The president's hobbies, his hopes, his tone of voice. How he ages in front of us, how he handles the big moments, how he handles disappointment, how he is able to surprise us, stir us, and simply stay on our minds.

Herman Cain could be that man. He won't do it and who could blame him? He wants what every candidate wants, to be taken seriously. No one running for president, particularly an African American, wants to be seen as a sideshow, Tonight's Entertainment.

But ironically, whether they admit it or not, that's what people are looking for. Imagine that.

Lyrics to Herman Cain's Pizza Beatles montage:

Imagine there's no pizza
I couldn't if I tried
Eating only tacos
Or Kentucky Fried
Imagine only burgers
It's frightening and sad

You're lucky you have pizza
To feed for kids for you
Only frosting or cookies
And no dishes you must do
Imagine eating pizza
Each and every day

You may say that it's junk food
But to me it's so much more
It gives my life its meaning
And it makes a lot of dough

Imagine mozzarella
Anchovies on the side
And maybe, pepperoni
Rounds out your pizza pie
Imagine getting pizza
Delivered to your door

You don't have to give up now
On my skateboard I will go
I'll be back in 30 minutes
I just bought Dominoes

All I am saying
Is give pizza a chance
All I am saying
Give pizza a chance!
All I am saying
Is give pizza a chance
All I am saying
You've got to, got to give pizza a chance!

3rd String Humor

2011-10-12T02:52:00.014-04:00

This is excerpted from a post on my Fantasy Football Message Board, the only place I write anything anymore, it would seem. In a few places I have added end-notes to explain what would otherwise be lost out-of-context.

Cletus [someone in the League: all names have been changed] has a friend named Ponyboy, whom I'm convinced Cletus keeps around for the sole contingency of one day needing someone to frame for Murder.

A few years ago Cletus fiendishly engineered the events of my life to lead to a point where I was forced to spend a large amount of time with Ponyboy, in what I can only figure was scientific experiment to see how far someone (me) could be pushhed before snapping and going on a 12-state killing spree.

But that's a story for another day. The reason Ponyboy sprang to mind vis a vis this debate(*1) is the one funny moment I ever experienced around Ponyboy (at least the one funny moment that didn't involve him getting hustled for $400 by a long-in-the-tooth stripper and then asking for a partial refund when he proved unable to achieve full tumescence, but I digress), involved his basketball career.

He told me that in Middle School he'd been on the basketball team and was a few rungs below a Cullen Brother(*2) on the Ability Ladder. (Don't try to picture this metaphorical ladder. M.C. Escher would drive himself mad trying to create it.)

Ponyboy's coach was one of those overbearing redfaced glory-of-war types (somewhere Bear is thinking, "I bet HE wouldn't care about a thousand dollars on the line in his fantasy league!"(*3)) who took the games very seriously. The coach had nothing but antipathy for his less-than-skilled players, and if you remember back to your Middle School Days (which in the case of Papa Akers might necessitate a rotogravure(*4)), you will recall that there were very few "athletes' who had developed much skill.

Consequently, the Coach loathed everyone but his starters (and even then, his feelings about his starting Center were akin to those of a man whose daughter is dating a line cook from Applebees, but "only until his band Redheaded Stepmonkey(*5) gets signed to a record deal which they totally will because they are so amazing, Daddy, you should hear them I bet you would really like them!"). Coach had little or no use for his second team, and would derisively call them "The Pylons" - a tribute to their inability to move on Defense (or Offense, or out of a huddle, for that matter); a clever name that would in no way stick to an unimpressionable hard-as-nails seventh grader.(*6)

Ponyboy, as he told me, was in the third-string, a motley bunch with the collective skil level considerably below even the second team.

One might imagine the self-esteem of a Girls Gone Wild Reunion Tour(*7), but Ponyboy confided this wasn't the case. The boys knew they were bad, and in all likelihood did not really want to play, and were only doing so to please a father, etc. And where the Coach needled the second team relentlessly, he at least had the action-plan that perhaps the second-stringers would be motivated by his mockery and become better players. But the coach saw the third string as so far beneath even the second-stringers that he wouldn't even spare them the energy of a withering glare. As far as the coach was concerned they didn't exist, which suited them just fine.

Ponyboy told me that the 3rd string had even developed a gallows humor cameraderie of sorts. The second string was so bad (according to the Coach) that they were The Pylons - what did that make the 3rd string? The name they develped for themselves was "The Pylons' Replacements."

As much as I hated that man, you gotta admit, that's pretty damn funny.

Notes
*1 I cut all that out; you couldn't possibly care about it; involved the morality of benching a player on Monday Night if you already had your week's match-up won and didn't want to risk negative points.

*2 Not the Vampire family, although now that I've renamed them for anonymity's sake, I wish we DID call them the Cullen Brothers

*3 This refers to the cut-our morality debate

*4 I was trying to use a reference that would jokingly call him old (he's the oldest guy in our league, being the commissioner's father), but I didn't do a great job there.

*5 Redheaded Stepmonkey would make a really great band name.

*6 This is sarcasm, in case you're totally lost by my random writing stylingz, or are Australian and genetically incapable of understanding it.

*7 If you can't figure out why the girls in Girls Gone Wild videos likely have low self-esteem then you're probably stupid. Send me a picture of yourself topless and I will help you feel smart and good about yourself. (Offer does not apply to dudes, Cletus.)

Giant Weasel

2011-10-05T07:30:00.002-04:00

I am NOT a weasel, but if I Was a weasel, I would be a Giant Weasel, as opposed to a tiny weasel. Why?

One should never trust the lesser of two weasels.

Short political rant, fomented while watching 9/11 anniversary coverage

2011-09-11T18:18:00.002-04:00

There are few things more depressing than realizing I live in a world where sycophantic fuckwits like P. Begalia & B. Kristol are considered experts at anything other than reading whatever propagandistic afterbirth is placed in front of them, while I can't get so much as a reach-around on my infinitely better analysis...on everything.

Friday Night Dinner

2011-07-08T22:51:00.070-04:00

I somehow got roped into making Family Dinner. This vexed me, but it was hard to blame my kin completely. I am a Master in the Kitchen, at least when it comes to creative ideas. The only reason I do not cook more often is my broken battered body which cannot hold up to the rigors of fast-paced culinary powers - or hell, even standing!

The only way I could really make it work was to prepare the food in shifts, all day long, with down-time in between each stage so that I could mini-recover. This necessity lended itself well to the idea of a salad, which has many ingredients that are prepared separately and thrown together at the end.

The first thing I did was freeze a pound of brown-sugar bacon, to make it easier to cut. Then I chopped it up into little pieces (although they were sticking together in their line, but soon separated) and fried them up in two batches.

While the bacon was crisping I opened four little tubs of Sweet N' Sour sauce I had leftover from Burger King. (I may be poor but I'm creatively efficient, or efficiently creative; not sure which.) To the Sweet 'N' Sour I added some Teriyaki marinade from the fridge (I wanted to add Soy, but there was none; not even little packets from Chinese take-out!) and a little bit of corn syrup. I then added some Raspberry Preserves jam and a few grinds of the pepper mill and started stirring. When the bacon was all cooked off I poured the hot grease into my little concoction and stirred like mad to make an emulsification for my dressing. (Because the bacon grease was hot, and because the temperature in the house was so blasted hot, the emulsification kept breaking, but I would just restir each time to satin it back up.)

I put the bacon pieces in paper towels to soak up excess grease and to cool. After a short rest I started heating water. While that was happening I peeled two mangos and cut them up into little pieces.

When the water was boiling I added six packages of Ramen. After a couple of minutes I poured the noodles into a collander and put the pan back on the stove. I added two tablespoons of butter (which melted readily in the super hot pan). I added the noodles back into the pan, added a little more butter and tossed the noodles around. After a minute I added the six flavor packets (chicken), and tossed very thoroughly to evenly coat the spices. I spread the ramen out on my cutting plastic to cool.

(Like an idiot I put a napkin on top to protect the ramen, and when I removed it I had a bunch stuck to the napkin, which I had to pull off one noodle at a time and eat myself.)

Once the ramen was cooled and dried out a little I chopped it up a good bit, since long strands would not be condusive to salad.

I now had done most of my prep.

I went to the store - on a Friday night, me! - and knew that I would never make it without the cripple cart. I have never used one in the daytime, which basically means i haven't been in a grocery store during the day in years. It felt weird.

I picked up two packages of Asian-style Teriyaki-Honey boneless wings (about 16 oz.) in the deli. I also got 2 pints of grape tomatoes and a bunch of organic red-leaf lettuce. (I already had Romaine-in-a-bag, but I wasn't sure that was enough.)

I couldn't get just one carrot (my plan was to shred it), but I found shredded carrots for only $0.99 so that was good. I wanted to buy pistachio pieces but I could only find in the shell and whole - a small tin was ten bucks! I ended up getting a Blue Diamond tin of Honey Roasted almonds. I ended up smashing half up into little bits and leaving half of them whole.

I got to the house and dried the organic lettuce (they keep that stuff wet!) best I could. I chopped it up and added it to the romaine.

My biggest problem now was that I didn't have a bowl big enough for all this. I ened up having to take some of the lettuce out, and in the end I'm not sure I shouldn't have just skipped the lettuce and called it a pasta!

I chopped up the boneless wings into bite-sized pieces and added them to the lettuce, along with the bacon, cold ramen, almonds, mangoes, tomatoes, shredded carrots and...I'm forgetting something. Oh yeah, golden raisins!

I coated it all very lightly in my dressing, and served with this really cool loaf of French bread I found that had ridges on the top that were so deep it was almost like pull-apart.

Also, I bought a Boston Cream Cake for dessert. (It was half off, just like the chicken. I often get meats or bakery items that way when they are day-old. Hey, they are still good to me!) My dad told me it was actually called a Boston Cream Pie, even though it was a cake. I'd heard of BCP, of course, but never seen one, so I learned something there.

To drink I got Jones Sugar-Free Black Cherry soda. I like Jones because they put pictures on the bottles, cans and packages that customers send in. I had to search a long time because my brother will not touch aspartame, but luckily Jones had sucalose so it was all good.

Everyone seemed to love the salad, so I guess I did well. I blew my entertainment budget for the entire month. (Sorry, Optimus Prime and Hermione), and I may not be able to walk across my room for at least a week, but it made my family happy and gave them good memories and....well, that's not doing it for me right now, but I'm sure there's an upside I'm not seeing.

not new, but refurbished

2011-06-23T18:48:00.000-04:00

I have a new template for this site (my third re-design in 48 hours!) and a new name. It's not much, but I suck at templates, so for me it's big.

I will explain the new name later, after sleep. I'm not sure how I'm still even alive, let alone awake.

In case you're curious, I redid four of my templates in the last week - After Dark Tales, Movie Hype, Hyperion Chronicles, and this one. (I'm too tired and can't see well enough to link them in this post, but they are all at the top of the page.)

Ok, sleep, then explanation, I hope

Story of my life...

2011-06-18T00:25:00.002-04:00

I feel ya, Charlie Brown. I feel ya.....

Instructions for When I Die

2011-06-12T12:36:00.000-04:00

Where does Shaq rank historically?

2011-06-02T10:23:00.000-04:00

When I first heard that Shaquille O'Neal was retiring my knee-jerk reaction was, "He's in the Top Ten of all time, for sure."

The problem is that we tend to think qualitatively without fully integrating quantitative factors. I can vividly remember being in college and M*A*S*H was on every night at 11:30 and 12:00. If my friend Jason Apple missed an episode he would ask me where it ranked and I would always say "Top Five." I wasn't being flippant; when I saw the episode that was my first reaction. Of course, at some point it dawned on me, "Wait, these can't ALL be Top Five episodes!"

And this is the problem with Shaq, one of my favorite players to watch (in his prime) ever, partly because I played the same position, partly because Shaq came of age when I played in high school and sports therefore meant the most to me, partly because of his generosity off the court and partly because of his larger-than-life personality and style.

But can Shaq really be Top Ten all time? I want to believe, but it's a hard case to make.

[The following is a quick-take analysis, not meant to be comprehensive, and drawing upon the assumption that the reader is very familiar with the people, careers and eras to which I refer. Other people have written entire articles and books ranking players with more data and scope; I'm just giving quick short-hand on the problem of ranking things by "feel".]

If we look at the list of Greatest Players of all time, and limit ourselves to those no longer playing, just about everyone would have the following eight people in some order. (I'm using alphabetical, so as to not get bogged down on how this group should be divided, which is a separate argument we can have another time):

Bird, Chamberlain, Jordan, Kareem, Magic, Robertson, Russell, West

As great as Shaq was, it's hard to imagine a knowledgeable person putting him ahead of any of those immortals. But here's where it gets tough. There are three more names of retired players that go into the discussion:

Olajuwon, Moses Malone, Mikan

Mikan is by far the hardest to grade. By any fair definition, the Mount Rushmore of Greatest NBA centers would have Mikan, Russell, Chamberlain and Kareem, leaving Shaq off entirely. Yet Shaq was a better player, which seems contradictory, but I don't know how to put it any better. (The short answer is that we are supposed to judge players in their era, and Mikan was as dominant in his as anyone in any sport EVER, yet his game is so untranslatable today that it's hard to imagine him playing for a Division 1 college team. You think the Refs has different rules for how they called fouls for and against Shaq? They invented the Shot Clock to stop Mikan.)

Mikan's case is so troubling I don't even know what to do with it, but that's just the beginning. We still have Olajuwon and Malone. (By the way, it irks me that I had to put Moses Malone, but I knew if I didn't some moron would think I meant Karl Malone. Sigh.)

I'm willing to say Shaq is definitively better than Malone, and while I'm willing to discuss, that's pretty much settled in my head. But that means (if we're counting Mikan), Shaq woudl be #10, and that's only if you rank him ahead of Olajuwon. No one who knows the game of basketball can be comfortable just saying that one way or the other. You might have a view on it, but you'd at least want to think it over. Shaq was more dominant, Olajuwon was more skilled. Shaq won four titles to Hakeem's two (and those two came during Jordan's hiatus), but one of Olajuwon's titles came against Shaq's Magic, and even though Shaq was still very young then, it's at least a head-to-head.

But even then we have another HUGE problem.

There are two players playing today that most likely have to go ahead of Shaq, or at least when they retire they will - Duncan and Kobe. Duncan played in the same era as Shaq, but much like Olajuwon it's hard to say one way or another. Both won four rings. Duncan was more consistent and (arguably) a better teammate; Shaq was more dominant and at his apex better. It's a tough call.

But that leaves Kobe, and, as much as it pains me to write these words, the last few years (not to mention the reasonable expectation that he has a couple of good to near-great years left) have moved Kobe past Shaq. I hate writing that. You can't know how much I hate writing that. At one point a few years ago I felt that the argument was absurd, but I gotta be honest, even if I don't like it.

To sum up, even if we ignore the historically vexing case of George Mikan, and even if we just declare Shaq better than Duncan and Olajuwon (which I'm not willing to do, and again - how could anyone feel comfortable being definitive about it), the highest we could possibly rank Shaq would be #10, and we wouldn't be able to sleep knowing we had cheated to do so. And even if we could somehow talk ourselves into Mikan not mattering and the Olajuwon/Duncan hit-jobs, we still couldn't rest easy, because of what's coming.

No one can know what the future holds, but if we look at the NBA today we at least get sort of an idea of what's on the horizon. Will Durant one day be an all-time great? Maybe Chris Paul? Maybe Nowitzki if he keeps up this pace for a year or two, and maybe the Chicago Deez Boyz - D Rose or D Wade....all possibilities, but not likely to pass Shaq on the All-time list.

But, c'mon. We all know (or suspect, or cringe; however you feel about him) that it's only a matter of time, a couple of pieces of hardware, until another name goes right past Shaq and crashes that Hallowed Top 8, scrapping with Kobe over entrance to the Top 5 and even beyond.

All of which leaves poor Shaq out of the Top 10. He'll probably be okay with that. After all, he can rap. He can wrestle, and if there's not a badass action franchise out there for him I'll eat my hat. Shaq will find his way, and we'll soon tell him how his third act tastes.....

I miss him already.

Return to the Hyperion Empire Home Page

Who else has a child like this?

2011-04-27T12:00:00.000-04:00

This is how I feel about my writing

2011-04-11T21:22:00.002-04:00

empowered whores

2011-03-31T23:07:00.002-04:00

Knowing Smile

2011-03-30T14:39:00.002-04:00

Cable News vs. Pro Wrestling

2011-03-07T22:36:00.000-05:00

What's the difference between cable news and pro wrestling? One is a slickly-produced artificial construct, a pageant of arbitrary heroes and villains based off of demographic appetites, a compelling if simplistic (and cynical) dramatic narrative that continually ups the ante, dazzles with smoke and lights and never lets logic, reality or common sense get in the way of a good ratings-delivering story. The other....

Sophie's Choice (times infinity)

2010-12-16T15:49:00.000-05:00

[Know going in that this is going to be kinda gross. No hard feelings if you quit reading now.]

Because of difficulty walking I often play the game of "wait as long as humanly possible before trekking down to the bathroom to pee." The added bonus of this game is that by the time there is no other choice - YOU HAVE TO GO - you have to go so badly that one misstep and it's all over. Luckily, there's nothing inherently dangerous about walking down the hallway, unless the fact that each step is so painfully jarring that it might make you temporarily quit squeezing, thereby increasing the odds you'll drop your payload before you hit the target....anyway, you can see the attraction, the danger, the romance.

But this morning I upped the odds considerably in my quest to face down death. (Bear Grylls is a punk bitch and you can tell him I said so.) I had to pee, but I was really tired, and I fell asleep. This was a bad bad move on my part. Normally I can go to sleep not having to pee at all, wake up two hours later like I have Alien inside my bladder. I mean, IT WANTS TO GET OUT. But falling asleep when you already have to pee moderately badly, that just spells disaster for waking.

On top of all that - and I don't know any other way to say this, so I apologize in advance - there was plenty of thunder rumbling, announcing a storm, if you will. Put another way - the enemy was attacking from two different fronts. (Or backs, as the case may be.)

I awoke with a start, a sense of urgency not unlike a 45-year old career woman desperate to have a kid. Things were moving, and they were moving right soon. Normally it takes me a few minutes to even sit up and then negotiate the Hell that is walking 15 feet, but desperate times calls for kamikaze action.

Being bombarded by multiple targets made walking even more of a tight-rope act than normal. While there are some muscles in common down there, there's a power vacuum as well. Tightening up one potential leak, if you will, increases the danger to the other trouble spot. Apropos of nothing, I couldn't help but recall a recent episode of The League that dealt with the shadowy world of anal kegels. Laugh if you will, but it would not be an unwelcome change to see this particular exercise added to the glut of gym membership commercials we're bound to see next month, a post-holiday tradition every bit as magical as the swans returning to Capistrano, and the start of the Christmas season in retail stores, just as soon as they can get the patriotic bunting taken down from July 4th celebrations.

(The other day I heard Christmas music on the radio. Christmas 2011 music. They are now lapping themselves. What would Kafka say? What would Locke say? What would Hobbes say? (The Philosopher AND the tiger?))

Back to my Bataan Death March....

Through impossible odds and constant threat of ruinous....uh....'splosion, I made it to the bathroom. Here is where I encountered my next impossible hurdle. My sister had a guest stop by last night, who I am sure is a perfectly fine nice girl and I have nothing bad to say about her. Heck, I never even saw her.

But Hyperion has a strange thing about germs. Yes, if you saw my room (or my penchant for re-using dishes over and over again - I'M SAVING THE ENVIRONMENT!!!) - you might argue it is an inconsistent position, but nonetheless there are certain matters where I turn downright Adrian Monkish.

I don't like people putting their hands inside the bag of chips - just pour out what you want! I don't like people (read: my mother) putting crumbs or other effluvia on my plate even after I'm done eating - because I always like the option of eating more. And, for whatever reason, I am very squeamish about sitting on a throne very recently occupied. Everything about it creeps me out. (Like when you sit down and the seat is still warm? Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.)

So, here I am, middle of the night, Enemy at both gates, and I am desperately spraying the toilet seat with....(wait for it)....Glass Cleaner.

In my defense, I didn't see the G or the L.

Why Windex? Because that's what was sitting there. Look, I fully admit my germ phobia is irrational, but something about the vinegary-ness of the cleaner makes me feel safe from crotch cooties. Don't Judge me.

As I'm spraying and furiously wiping, I have failed to notice that I am now almost bent double, in an inexorably losing battle to keep the bridge dyked, the highway closed. I then encountered the truly unimaginable dilemma alluded to back in the title.

I was wearing these hideous green track pants, the kind made of that whsk whsk windbreaker material.

(Not actual pants. My feet are 3x that size)

The problem is that they are a tad complicated to "move to safety," and in my limbo-esque state I now realized that I was out of options. The time it would take to yank the suckers down was all I (hopefully) had - I could not hold both gates any more. This was only a split-second of realization, but the knowledge was as sure as anything I have ever known.

One. Or the other.

You can't save both.

A lesser man would have crumbled under such circumstances, given in to the inevitable, and succumbed to his fate. But as many a woman (and the good textile merchants at KingSizeDirect) will tell you, I am not a lesser man.

Doing split-second calculus that would make Einstein weep, I took stock of my situation. If truly only one gate could be defended, it came down to which enemy would cause greater carnage. I realized that when this whole sad sordid affair was over I may be truly pissed off, but that doesn't mean I didn't give a shit.

As I prepared to make my sacrifice (I cannot tell you how nanosecond by nanosecond this whole time frame was, thus adding to my heroism), I realized that the complicated maneuver of track pants disengagement and sitting position need not be the end of the story.

Why? FOR I AM HYPERION. I AM MALE, AND WE HAVE OPTIONS, BABY!

Casting my lot with retentive personalities everywhere, I yanked down the track pants while concomitantly ordering my nethers to move maximum defenses to the rear shields. I had no time to "aim," but I was ever hopeful that, much like a faithful family horse in the Old West - the beast knew how to get home better than I did.

(At this moment let me pause my tale for a moment to say that the amount of hydro-electric power generated by Holland's famous windmills PALES in comparison to certain other forces I could name.)

Success! More or less. I was able to save the day, and after peeing so hard I'm fairly certain I cracked the porcelain I was able to seamlessly make the position switch with ballet-like grace.

As for our 1878 house and its antique plumbing....now that's another story.

Cam Newton is the best player in College Football, but should not win the Heisman

2010-12-11T20:58:00.001-05:00

Not that I have a vote, or anyone cares what I think, but I have changed my mind in the last 24 hours about Cam Newton winning the Heisman.

I'm on record that the NCAA is full of hypocrisy; everyone makes money on the back of these kids but them. I don't blame them one iota for taking money that's offered, etc. (Should greedy families do it on their behalf? Different story, but we'll let that go for another day.)

Here is my issue:

I watched the Cam Newton interview with Chris Fowler several times. (Watch it here.) He was clearly coached, and I don't mean from Gene Chizik - Public Relations team, lawyers, people like that.

Oddly, I don't have that hard a time with Cam's assertion that he never asked his dad if he did it. From all indications his dad made the decision to go to Auburn, not Cam. We all know his dad asked for the money, and whether Cam knew about it or not, I can see in some families where you wouldn't question your father.

But that brings up the issue. Reports were that after the decision was made to switch from Miss. State to Auburn Cam called up a recruiter crying saying basically, "They money was just too much [at Auburn.] Fowler asked newton about this. (It's about 1:23 into the video).

Quoting from the Article:

ESPN reported Nov. 9 that Newton had told a Mississippi State recruiter that his father had chosen Auburn because "the money was too much."

"I'm not here to talk about any reports," Newton said.

That's what sticks in my craw. We've all been here before, whether it was Mark McGwire or Bill Clinton. "I'm not here to talk about any reports" translates to = they are true.

How do I feel confident in saying this? Because the alleged conversation of Newton's is the crux of the whole matter. Any reasonable person (I think) believes Cam knew about what happened. The question is - what evidence was there? Without any evidence of his involvement or knowledge it was difficult to suspend him based solely on what most people assume. But that conversation with the recruiter - if true - clearly shows knowledge and complicity, if by silence for no other reason.

I contend that if that allegation was untrue Newton would have shouted it from the rooftops, now that he was speaking. No, I didn't know, he should have said. I never talked to anyone about money at Auburn. There was no money at Auburn.

The correct play - in my mind - is to play the whole thing as a botched stupid idea that wasn't even half serious to get money at Mississippi State, which didn't go anywhere. The Newtons should be saying over and over again- no money ever changed hands, there's no real foul. That they aren't is telling. That Cam isn't refuting the report about his knowledge is telling too.

Couple that with the Heisman Mission Statement, the first line of which reads:

The Heisman Memorial Trophy annually recognizes the outstanding college football player whose performance best exhibits the pursuit of excellence with integrity.

[emphasis added by me]

In his interview with Chris Fowler Cam Newton makes a double-speak statement that is virtually tantamount to lying. We can reasonably infer that the report is true, and that adds up.

Whether or not the athletes should be paid something (as I believe) is one thing, and whether Cam and his family got any money is something else. Whether he knew about it might even be explained away with not wanting to go against his father. But lying about knowing, surely that is not integrity.

As I write these words we are just minutes away from Newton getting the award (I presume). But in my opinion he shouldn't. He clearly was the best player this season, but doesn't deserve the Heisman.

"I Haz" (an Epic Sick Poem)

2010-11-24T06:56:00.001-05:00

I got to the point tonight where I knew I couldn't make it without medicine and such, but I also was at the point where there was every real possibility that I was too sick to make it to wal-greens alive. This didn't frighten me, so off I went. Wal-Greens has a drive-thru for pharmacy, and you'd have thought I asked for a TSA Screening the way they reacted when I very nicely asked if the attendant would go get me some soup. "I'm not your maid" she said. Maid? I was just trying to avoid walking around and dying!

Serves her right. When I got in there I was so woozy that I lay down in one of the aisles on the nice cold tile. They said they were going to call the Ambulance or police, so I got up and left. Bastards.

But I did get the poem I think I mentioned (too tired to scan back up and see if I wrote about it). I cut out the middle verse because it made me laugh so hard that I choked on my own phlegm and anything that funny would surely piss off half the women I know...but what's left is pretty awesome, I sez.

I HAZ

I haz some Kleenex with lotion
To soothe my hurty nose
I haz some soup to warm me
Down to my achy toes
I haz some medicine to put
Me into peaceful slember
So Hypey goes to sleep
Please wake me in December

Levantine

2010-11-20T14:25:00.000-05:00

I dreamed that we were coming back home late at night and it was pouring rain and my dad stopped several blocks from our house and he pointed to a man on the side of the road whom he called the Levantine - my dad said the Levantine may have been working for a Chinese Triad, but my dad didn't sound sure - and we were just sitting there at this stop sign which was conspicuous and I mentioned this and also there were all these other guys with guns gathering and we saw them go into this house - someone else who owed money or something - i guess - so my dad turned and we went to this other part of town and we were walking down this hedgerow to sneak into this other house - but somehow it was our house - and there was this old woman and she was walking home and we were walking with her and then there was this old man too - and it was really dark and we were all bent over and I then the old man was at his house (they were all really close together) and the woman's house was the next one over and I realized I had walked past our house and I turned back and my dad had the porch light on which I remember thinking didn't make any sense and I looked down at the end of the street up on these connected rooftops and it seemed like there was someone up there taking pictures and we went inside and I mentioned this to my dad but he didn't seem concerned and he locked the door on the bottom and waited for me to lock the top but I couldn't lock the top because it was one of those deadbolts that only locks and unlocks with a key and I didn't have the key and I told him that and this concerned him very much and he came to deadbolt the door and I remember thinking that if we had to leave suddenly I literally couldn't get out that door because I didn't have the key so I went back to my room and got the key and I was going to put it on my ring but I didn't have the ring so I put the key in the little extra pocket you get on your jeans - not sure why that's important but it felt important - and then I heard someone come in the back door which was right by my bedroom and my door was cracked open and I was afraid to open it (I'm never afraid in real life any more but as a child I was afraid constantly and in dreams I still revert to that state when things scared me) I looked at the crack in the door and this guy came in and he was wearing a coat I associate in my head with bad guys (probably it isn't but I knew he was a bad guy although I didn't know if he was with the Chinese Triad or the Levantine - to be honest, I wasn't sure what a Levantine was) - and he went down the hall to the front room where my dad was and I heard him confront my dad and I remember thinking he was there to gang rape my dad which kinda didn't make sense - I was sorta coming slowly out of the dream, at the point where you can just start to think about things but not really - I mean how could one guy gang rape someone, I really wondered this, and also, how would that get them their money but I knew I had to help so I went for my hunting knife but it was in my backpack which I knew I hadn't brought in and I remember thinking I could redo the sequence and it would be there - which also happens when you're starting to wake up and you have the tiniest bit of control even though not really - but I also knew that would be cheating, which I didn't know what cheating was but somehow I knew I couldn't fight the guy with a knife I didn't have and so I grabbed this little pocket knife - also out of the backpack, but somehow that was okay; don't ask me, it's dream logic - and I started to creep down the hall and I remember thinking it was funny that I would be able to creep silently but I was and I got near the front room and heard the guy gesturing with a gun so I knew I had to kill him immediately when I entered the room or my dad would be dead and I was scared which annoyed me but I was also going to do it - I think - but then I woke up right before I could go into the room.

And the thing is - I don't know how to explain this part - but the moment I woke up I knew it had been a dream, but I also "knew" - whatever that means - that the being watched part was a memory - that part of the dream had come from real events - even though I'm fairly sure we haven't been - but i'm not sure. Maybe an hour from now this will all seem silly, but I actually am still half-asleep and going back go sleep but I wanted to write this down so I would remember it later and don't judge the bad writing because I truly am half alseep

Curb Appeal

2010-10-29T07:19:00.001-04:00

For a variety of reasons I was/am not feeling well, but the Trash was supposed to go out this morning, and sometimes they come early, so I (heroically; there will be a parade in my honor at 1800 hours) managed to scoop up the bag from the kitchen, add the front room, and stumble out the door.

I had just come from bed, so I was wearing was my boxers, and all I grabbed was my cane. Not even shoes. (I know, I know: with a cane I should have had a top-hat.) Normally I don't go outside so un-clad, but it's O'Dark Thirty outside, so I figured a few seconds couldn't hurt.

I managed to get to the curb, leaning heavily on the cane, not even really thinking about what I wasn't wearing (more just trying not to collapse), and this woman comes jogging by, dressed for an attempt to reach the summit of K2. Seriously: Southerners tend to fall to pieces at the first sign of wind, and it was maybe in the high 50s - certainly no need for parkas, but whatever.

She sees me, and is kind of taken aback. I nod companionably and she says, "How cold's it have to be for you to put on pants?"

I look at her and say, "I must be losing my touch. Most women try to get my pants off, and you're trying to put them back on."

She turns about 800 shades of red (at least I think it was red; it was dark) and jogs away, and I shambled back into the house, thinking it better be one awesome parade, or else.

Me Word Good

2010-10-24T19:51:00.003-04:00

Word I just made up - fellationship. You know you'll use it. (And when you do, think of me.)

UltraViolent Catastrophe is 3 - 0 - can Apocalypse be far behind?

2010-10-01T04:09:00.000-04:00

I said last week I'd never been 2 - 0 before, so 3 - 0 is also a precedent. Even the year I was a friggin Juggernaut I lost my second game on a fluke. The first two weeks I got a tad lucky to win, this time I earned it, with 137 points, the highest score in the League for the week. I trounced Bobby Bowden's Bastion of Bastardry but somethin' fierce.

Again, if I would have played Michael Vick I would have scored more than Tom Brady. I just can't seen benching Brady this week, but I may pull the trigger. (In week 5 I have no choice, as Brady is on bye.)

There are four Teams in my Division, and the way it works is we play each team in our division, then everyone else, then each team in our Division again. Here's the Standings so far:

As you can see, there are only two undeafeated teams, Koz's and myself. he texted me about it Tuesday. Here is a portion, verbatim:

Me: We don't play each other until Week 11, so not much chance we'll be undefeated, but maybe we'll be the league's best

Koz: Hopefully. Although my team has been on a steady decline while your team has been on the rise.

Me: yeah, but i'm going into the Valley of the Shadow of ByeWeeks, so I'll come back down to Earth

Koz: Fear no evil for Vick art with thee

Cracks me up every time I read it.

This week I play the Gauchos, who are the worst team so far, but usually get up for me. I won't have Adrian Peterson (and a few others, on bye), so we'll see....

October!

2010-10-01T03:47:00.002-04:00

So glad September is over. This one was as brutal as any, but October has only been here a few hours and already several things going right.

More news soon

She Walks in Beauty Like the Night

2010-09-21T21:52:00.001-04:00

In honor of She Walks in Beauty Like the Night Day, I am reprinted Lord Byron's poem

"She walks in beauty, like the night"
Lord Byron

SHE walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meets in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress
Or softly lightens o'er her face,
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,—
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.

We're 2-0, baby!

2010-09-21T21:19:00.000-04:00

For the first time ever for me, I started the Season 2-0, beating my arch rivals Fine Upstanding Gentlemen (The "Fuggies") over the weekend. Here are the stats:

I don't have my back-ups on here, but it's worth noting that my back up QB (Michael Vick) would have outscored Brady by a lot. What's weird about that is that I had this omen Sunday morning I should start Vick, even though it would have been crazy to do that. Oh well: a win's a win. Next weekend I take on "Bobby Bowden's Bastion of Bastardry."

There's a Long Long Trail A-Winding

2010-09-17T04:31:00.000-04:00

I first heard this song on an episode of M*A*S*H, sung by Colonel Potter, Hawkeye and B.J. Turns out it's a World War I song, written by two classmates at Yale before the war really started (and years before Americans got involved). I have the lyrics below, along with the music to listen to. There is something sweet and pure about it that is so often lost in today's music.

There's a Long Long Trail A-Winding
Lyrics by Stoddard King
Music by Alonzo Elliott

Nights are getting very lonely,
Days are very long,
I'm a-growing weary only,
Listening for your song,
Old remembrances are thronging,
Thro' my memory,
Till it seems, the world is full of dreams,
Just to call you back to me.

   There's a long long trail a-winding
   Into the land of my dreams,
   Where the nightingales are singing
   And the white moon beams,
   There's a long long night a-waiting
   Until my dreams all come true,
   Till the day when I'll be going down
   That long long trail with you.

All night long I hear you calling,
Calling sweet and low,
Seem to hear your footsteps falling,
Ev'ry where I go,
Tho' the road between us stretches,
Many's the weary mile,
I forget, that you're not with me yet,
When I think I see you smile.

   There's a long long trail a-winding
   Into the land of my dreams,
   Where the nightingales are singing
   And the white moon beams,
   There's a long long night a-waiting
   Until my dreams all come true,
   Till the day when I'll be going down
   That long long trail with you.

UltraViolent Catastrophe Wins in Week 1

2010-09-14T10:20:00.003-04:00

So, guess who won their Week 1 match up? (Don't look at the title!) That's right. Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!1!!!!

The UltraViolent Catastrophe took on The Memesters Union in a tough divisional clash. Hard fought were out warriors, but ultimately was Hyperion's squad of heroes victorious.

While I won my game all was not beer and skittles in Hyperion land. For one thing, my two starting Wide Receivers let me down And my vaunted Running Backs did not do much, either. I also was rather fortuitous in who I played. If you ran my team against the other 11 teams in the league simultaneously I would have only gone 6-5. But, it's a win, and a win I will take. Next weekend I take on Fine Upstanding Gentlemen (known colloquially in the league as the Fuggies), owned by my most hated rival. Will I start the season 2-0? Only time will tell.

My 2010 Fantasy Football Team

2010-09-12T10:02:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure why you'd care, but in case you do, here is my Fantasy Football team information

My team is called UltraViolent Catastrophe. (So far only one person has come close to figuring out why, but 8.9 Hypey points if you know.)

In my league you start 13 people, which I have listed below, along with my 8 Reserves. If you like me, root for those guys to gain yards, tackles, and most of all touch downs. If you hate me, feel free to root against them.

QuarterBack
Tom Brady      NWE

Running Back
Joseph Addai      IND
Adrian Peterson    MIN

Wide Receiver
Dwayne Bowe      KAN
Michael Crabtree      SFO

Tight End
Dallas Clark    IND

Kicker
Rob Bironas      TEN

Defensive Lineman
Robert Mathis    IND
Ndamukong Suh DET

Linebacker
Karlos Dansby    MIA
DeMarcus Ware DAL

Defensive Back
Oshiomogho Atogwe STL
Eric Berry    KAN

Reserves
(they don't get points unless I put one of them into the starting lineup before that game starts)
Darren Sproles RB SDG
Ahmad Bradshaw RB NYG
T.J. Houshmandzadeh WR BAL
Pierre Garcon WR IND
Austin Collie WR IND
Stephen Tulloch LB TEN
Tracy Porter DB NOR
Earl Thomas DB SEA

Hyperion Day

2010-08-27T03:39:00.000-04:00

Thanks to everyone who helped give me such a great day. Thanks for all the prezzies and well wishes. I made some great memories - a FEW of which I may write about soon, and some you'll have to just always wonder. It's good to be Hyperion.

Not long for this World?

2010-08-19T19:25:00.000-04:00

A few minutes ago I saw a spider on the wall. This wasn't any ordinary spider, but roughly the size of Fat Elvis.

Let me back up for a minute to say that I feel about spiders approximately the same way that I feel about child molesters, people who didn't like INCEPTION and cable news hosts between 8 and 11 p.m.*, that is to say - our world is not served in any tangible way by their continued presence and they all should be destroyed!!!!!!

(*I realize that by virtue of MSNBC's anemic inability to sustain programming my edict would have the inadvertent result of killing Keith Olbermann twice. I'm okay with this. Are there any objections? No? Good, let's move on.)

Anyway, the only thing that kept me from yelling out "Madre de Dios, a spider large enough to have its own orbit!" was that the spider was jumping from wall to wall in the corner of the room. This isn't generally how spiders climb up walls.

(Except Mexican Jumping Spiders. Or is that Mexican Jumping Beans? I forget. let's move on.)

Finally I realized that the reason the spider was jumping from wall to wall was my ceiling fan was affecing the spider. It was at that moment that the ceiling fan caught huge, pulling the spider from the wall UP OVER MY BED, where it disappeared!

To make matters worse, I have dark giant-ass-spider-hiding sheets! (In retrospect, why did I buy sheets that advertised their product as, "Now with dark hue, to hide giant-ass spiders!" Who brags about this? And what kind of moron buys those sheets? Arrrrrrrgh!)

To make matters worser, I almost never wear many clothes in my room. I hate clothes, and go without them at every opportunity. And I'm freakin' succulent! I'm not saying I'm going to be on the cover of GQ anytime soon, but when it somes to an insect meal? Let's just say I would be the Donner Party's Dream Feast. My delicious flesh and vital organs - even my bones would probably taste good, slowly braised!

So, somewhere, perhaps only inches away from me, a spider - which in all likelihood will get its own congressman when the Census figures are fully tabulated, is waiting, watching me with his 8 beady eyes (is it 8, or 80? I forget), just waiting to sink his 8 fangs into my irresistible flesh.

If you never hear from me again, that's why.

Love that Shan Yu

2010-07-26T09:42:00.000-04:00

"Live with a man 40 years. Share his house, his meals. Speak on every subject. Then tie him up, and hold him over the volcano's edge. And on that day, you will finally meet the man."

quote by Shepherd Derrial Book on "Firefly"

I may have to rethink Christmas in July

2010-07-26T05:28:00.000-04:00

Worst.

Julistmas.

EVER.

Alvin Greene for Senator!

2010-07-23T20:27:00.000-04:00

The new Alvin Greene video is, simply put, sublime. Words can barely describe.

Greene won the Democratic U.S. Senate primary as a virtual unknown in South Carolina, prompting calls that his campaign was fake etc. Since then he's become a fascination by the Media, which led the video below. For the record, Greene did not make the video (which kinda makes fun of him in a good-natured way), but according to his Twitter page, he approves. (Note: the NY Times thought it was made by Greene, but unlike the sheep, I do not consider them the paper of record and do not trust their sourcing.)

Regardless of who made it, the video rocks like no political ad you've ever seen. Funny, painful, funky, true. Even bizarre. I have found the lyrics, which I present below with the video for you to enjoy:

When I say “Alvin,” you say “Greene.”
Alvin! Greene! Alvin! Greene!
When I say “Alvin,” you say “Greene.”
Alvin Greene for Senator!

Listen up everybody, ’cause I’m here to say
If you’re tired of the government you have today
And you wanna big change in a major way
Then vote Alvin Greene on Election Day!

Jobs! Education! Justice, too!
My man Al knows what’s best for you
So come together party people, both red and blue
And don’t believe the rumors that are just not true.

Well, Greene’s a new face in politics,
And he don’t show porno to college chicks.
But he’s got some ideas that’ll fix the state,
So open up your minds and stop the hate.

Time to dig down deep in your wallet or purse.
It can only get better and it can’t get worse.
Shake up DC, sat in the church,
And put me, you and Alvin Greene back to work!

Well, let’s talk about the issues one time -
Makin’ sure the punishment fits the crime!
And if you don’t think that’s cool enough -
He’s gonna give lots of money to the schools and stuff!

Real family values those are rad –
He loves family and lives with his mom and dad!
November’s coming, it’s time to choose -
And Jim DeMint should be ready to lose!

Alvin Greene, is on the scene.
Gotta get out and vote, if you know what I mean.
Alvin Greene is the one for you.
He knows how you feel ’cause he’s unemployed, too.

Alvin Greene is the natural choice.
Don’t listen to the folks that make fun of his voice.
Alvin Greene, his campaign’s legit,
And you know this great nation will benefit!

When I say “Alvin,” you say “Greene.”
Alvin! Greene! Alvin! Greene!
When I say “Alvin,” you say “Greene.”
Alvin Greene for Senator!

When I say “Alvin,” you say “Greene.”
Alvin! Greene! Alvin! Greene!
When I say “Alvin,” you say “Greene.”
Alvin Greene for Senator!

I never thought I'd say this, but....

WE'RE MOVING TO SOUTH CAROLINA!

Walled In

2010-07-23T06:17:00.001-04:00

"I would think that if a man suffered the terrible fate of being murdered and cemented into the walls of a building, his wife would take it upon herself not to raise their son for his entire life in that building. But that's me."

-Michael DeZubiria, in a hilarious user-review on IMDB for the Horror/Thriller WALLED IN, starring Mischa Barton.

And because one poster of this sure-to-be-awesome-but-not-in-a-good-way movie is not enough, I give you:

Best Quote Ever!

2010-07-19T05:15:00.001-04:00

What Took You So Long?

2010-07-16T21:35:00.000-04:00

"There is surely a word—in German, most likely—that means the state of active non-accomplishment. Not just the failure to reach a specific goal, but ongoing, daily failure with no end in sight. Stunted ambition. Disappointed potential. Frustrated and sad and lonely and hopeless and sick to death of one's self."

-Susanna Daniel, in a Slate.com article called: "What Took You So Long? The quiet hell of 10 years of novel writing." You can read the article here.

I posted the quote because I totally understand the sentiment.

Guatemala.

2010-06-23T01:20:00.001-04:00

My sister Jerrica and I decided to read the Wikipedia page for one country each day. Day 1 was Guatemala. You've never seen so many coups. A few randomly chosen facts:

Guatemala is a country in Central America bordered by Mexico to the north and west, the Pacific Ocean to the southwest, Belize to the northeast, the Caribbean to the east, and Honduras and El Salvador to the southeast. Its area is 108,890 km² (42,043 mi²) with an estimated population of 13,276,517.

The first evidence of human settlers in Guatemala goes back to at least 12,000 BC. There is evidence that may put this date as early as 18,000 BC, such as obsidian arrow heads found in various parts of the country.

The current average age in Guatemala is 19.4 years old, 18.9 for males and 20 years for females.

More than 450 Mayan villages were destroyed and over 1 million people became displaced within Guatemala or refugees. Over 200,000 people, mostly Mayan, were killed during the civil war, which ended in 1996.

For more Check out the Wikipedia Page and secondary sources.

Guatemala Map Search with Longitude and Latitude
Government of Guatemala
(Spanish)
Guatemala
entry at The World Factbook
Wikimedia Atlas of Guatemala

This is meX10000

2010-06-22T06:13:00.000-04:00

100 Trillion Dollars

2010-06-13T08:00:00.000-04:00

[I Twittered these this morning. I thought they were funny, even if no one else did.]

If I had 100 Trillion dollars I would burn ECLIPSE before anyone could see it. All TV Mute Buttons would be disabled.

If I had 100 Trillion dollars I would ban all Horrorscopes but Gemini & make Fran Drescher a judge on American Idol.

If I had 100 Trillion dollars I would make cat owners wear bells around their necks & carry straw in their left hands.

If I had 100 Trillion Dollars all Sports teams would be renamed The Fuzzies. HGTV & BET would merge Networks.

If I had 100 Trillion dollars all vehicles & houses would be painted puke green. I'd have Carrot-Top marry your kid.

If I had 100 Trillion Dollars I'd destroy all but 1 copy of EVERY book. All underwear (Men & Women) would be Bloomers.

If I had 100 Trillion dollars I'd make all adoptions be cross-racial. Paris Hilton would be Press Secretary.

If I had 100 Trillion dollars I'd ban Hairspray, Leather, Texting, Muffins, Rainbows, the letter L, Coffee & Potatoes.

If I had 100 Trillion Dollars I'd make all religions combine with the Hamburgler as their figure-head. EAT MISERY, WORLD!

Dragon Flagon!

2010-06-10T07:07:00.004-04:00

My youngest sister Jerrica went to the Renaissance Faire on Sunday and brought back gifts. A previous Faire landed me Pythagoras, my 4-foot dwarf wizard and walking-sexual harassment lawsuit (he can't keep his felty mitts off the ladies).

(Do NOT ask to see his "Magic Wand")

This time Jerrica seemed equally pleased with her gifts. One was to my other sister (for her surprise birthday party last night), a dragon-ring with which I was hired to write an epic story. (Sadly, despite pleas for help from friends and strangers, I have had severe writer's block. I also spent the money, so I have to either deliver or hold a fundraiser. Sigh. A problem for another time.)

Another she gave me a few hours before the party, hoping to inspire me to write a great story. (Here's hoping.)

It is a DRAGON FLAGON.

(At first I thought it was from the SS Collection. Thank the Light that was wrong!)

As you can see from the front, there are a couple of Dragons on it. The back is even cooler. That black strip around the Flagon is leather, sort of like an arm guard a soldier might wear to protect him from sword hits in battle. It's all studded like an S&M collar. But then around the handle it laces up!

My Flagon has a corset!!!!

Obviously I'm overjoyed at this development. Having a Flagon already says I'm ready to party - but a kinky corset on the Flagon....It's gonna be THAT kind of party, baby!

(Somebody get me the mashed potatoes*)

Even more than the Dragons and the corset, though, I think what excited me the most was that when I closed my eyes and held out my hand I felt this heavy thud. The Flagon is quite large, and more importantly, Solid. What I'm getting at is that I could EASILY kill someone with it, either by smashing them over the head or catching their temple with the bottom edge. Jerrica said it's solid steel, and I believe her.

Perhaps it was once a sword, melted down?

I love love love gifts that not only do what they are supposed to, but might also maim and harm. (Kinda how I like my women.)

I'm going back to working on my story now, but first I think I will take a sip, from my Dragon Flagon. Be on your best behavior,

This Panda perfectly illustrates My attempts to climb stairs...

2010-06-06T17:25:00.000-04:00

I feel his pain. This is how I feel all the time. And the sympathy others feel is the worse. I wish my youngest sister was here right now so I could glower at her.

Al Swearengen Rocks

2010-06-06T08:35:00.000-04:00

“Pain or damage don’t end the world. Or despair or fucking beatings. The world ends when you’re dead. Until then, you got more punishment in store. Stand it like a man… & give some back."

~Al Swearengen
(Deadwood, Season 2)

Snack Bar Blues

2010-05-30T19:57:00.002-04:00

Nobody understands me...except this baby

Chicks, Man....

2010-05-24T21:54:00.000-04:00

It's like a damn super-power, their ability to do this!

This is so me

2010-05-23T05:07:00.000-04:00

I once lost $500 by explaining about Nagasaki. I feel his pain.

Drug Culture in Athletics

2010-05-17T00:43:00.000-04:00

"Among the less startling assertions one could make today would be that we live in a drug culture. The vast majority of us gobble an aspirin here, gulp an antibiotic there, whiff a decongestant now or a few milligrams of nicotine then. We take a little opiate in our cough syrup, a jab of Novocain from the dentist, caffeine to start the day, alcohol to mellow it and a sedative to blank it out at bedtime. However, after it has been admitted that most citizens dope themselves from time to time, there remain excellent grounds for claiming that in the matter of drug usage, athletes are different from the rest of us. In spite of being—for the most part—young, healthy and active specimens, they take an extraordinary variety and quantity of drugs (see cover). They take them for dubious purposes, they take them in a situation of debatable morality, they take them under conditions that range from dangerously experimental to hazardous to fatal. The use of drugs—legal drugs—by athletes is far from new, but the increase in drug usage in the last 10 years is startling. It could, indeed, menace the tradition and structure of sport itself."

From a Sports Illustrated article: "Problems in a Turned-On World" by Bil Gilbert written June 23, 1969. Yes, you read that date correctly. Check out the article in the S.I. Vault.

The Bag doesn't lie

2010-05-11T01:49:00.002-04:00

The bag doesn't lie friends. The bag doesn't lie.

Love Kittens quartet sings "Sweet Adeline"

2010-04-28T07:18:00.000-04:00

Here are the Lyrics (I love this song):

SWEET ADELINE
(Richard Gerard)

In the evening as I sit alone a-dreaming
Of days gone by, love, to me so dear,
There's a picture that in fancy oft' appearing,
Brings back the time, love, when you were near.
It is then I wonder where you are, my darling,
And if your heart to me is still the same.
For the sighing wind and nightingale a-singing
Are breathing only your own sweet name.

Sweet Adeline, (My Adeline,)
My Adeline, (My Adeline,)
At night, dear heart, (At night, dear heart,)
For you I pine. (For you I pine.)
In all my dreams, (In all my dreams,)
Your fair face beams. (Your fair face beams.)
You're the flower of my heart,
Sweet Adeline. (My Adeline.)

The Color of Trust

2010-04-27T16:13:00.000-04:00

Give me your Trust, said the Aes Sedai,

On my shoulders I support the sky;

Trust me to know and to do what is best

And I will take care of the rest.

But Trust is the color of a dark seed growing.

Trust is the color of a hearts blood flowing.

Trust is the color of a Souls last breath.

Trust is the color of Death.

Give me your trust said the queen on her throne,

For I must bear the burden all alone;

Trust me to lead and to judge and to rule

And no man will think you a fool.

But trust is the sound of a grave dogs bark.

Trust is the sound of betrayal in the dark.

Trust is the sound of a souls last breath.

Trust is the sound of death.

~from a song called "The Color of Trust" which appears in LORD OF CHAOS by Robert Jordan

Take 6 - David vs. Goliath

2010-04-24T07:49:00.000-04:00

My last post was "Oh Mary, Don't You Weep" by Take 6, and I started reminiscing. I love Love LOVE a cappella music, and growing up, Take 6 was just about my favorite. They were even more talented than Boyz II Men (sacrilege!) if not as media-savvy. Anyway, this is one of my favorites. I don't remember the name of the tape I had, but I know this was the first song on Side 2. Really a spectacular rendition by the guys. (Oh, and how great are those shirts? I want one!!!)

Mary

2010-04-24T07:38:00.002-04:00

Seems like I do a lot of moaning lately - literally, as it helps with pain. Anyway, I guess Mary and Martha had more to be upset about, and they were able to suck it up (one presumes). So I guess I can too. This song helps.

9 seconds

2010-04-23T00:01:00.000-04:00

I awoke in awe and wonder. Head clear, no piercing throb in the extremities. Lasted 9 seconds; the best 9 seconds I can remember. #storyofme

From Twitter

Context-Free Gold

2010-04-20T08:58:00.006-04:00

"You inspire me, you listen to me, and for some strange reason with all the bad stuff you know about me you don't hold it against me. You make me laugh. You make me want to be a better person..... but i still wanna kill people."

The best Context-Free Quote of the Year! No, the decade! (so far)

Ka-ching!

2010-04-19T05:43:00.002-04:00

I could totally make this work.

Poetry written @4:44

2010-03-27T05:01:00.000-04:00

"He'd never seen her before and he'd never see her again, but as she walked by his store window their eyes locked, and for those few seconds she was his and his alone."

Bad Dream

2010-03-25T15:23:00.001-04:00

This morning I awakened from a bad dream. (That'll Learn me to fall asleep at night.) While still half asleep I Twittered about it in a series of 140 character posts. I reprinted them below. (Please forgive Grammar Mangling ("grammangling"), as 140 character limits and half asleep don't mix well.)

Nightmare :(

Awoke to Literally feel and hear my heart pounding in my chest.

The emotion should soon fade, but since it was of something that could have happened, I'm left search my memory to see if recent event.

What's weird is that it's not even something that would scare me in real life; get my adrenaline up a bit, perhaps, but not frighten me.

I probably shouldn't even admit this, but as a child I was frightened all the time. I had an hellacious imagination, & nighttime was terror.

Once there was a Heart 2 Heart episode I saw when I was 7 that gave me nightmares for years. Stupid Stephanie Powers.

Now, I don't get scared any more. I get mad, and maybe sometimes I feel anxious, but never scared. Except....when dreaming.

Dream wasn't even imagination-saturated, either. No megalomanical robots or evil sexy rabbit assassins. Just a giant cockroach on my boxfan.

The cockroach was about 3.5 inches long, totally within range for anyone living in the South.

I only use one shot of Raid, though tempted to empty half the bottle. My room is not well ventilated, & I was worried about poison dispersal

I was also quite concerned about the cockroach being sucked into the boxfan and sprayed all over my bed!

Raid does work w/ one spray (if you get the BooYah! kind). What they don't tell you is that it doesn't work Right Away. Gotta sweat it out.

Damn cockroach flittered all over the floor as I tried to keep it in sight. Light was off CSI style, which, just like CSI, didn't make sense

At 1 point cockroach had many legs come out like a spider-hybrid. At the time didn't seem strange, but now adds to "only a dream" theory.

Last thing before I waking was cockroach yelping like a cat w/ its tail stepped on. Cockroaches can hiss, even bark, but not meow, right?

Alone in the Dark (save the laptop glow catching bedroom objects in their nefarious deeds), now seems certain t'was but a dream, not Memory.

(Though it is late March, which means at best, the dream was but a harbinger of another wonderful summer of La Cucaracha. Go South!)

Llorando

2010-03-11T21:52:00.000-05:00

First her Miss Rebekah del Rio sing this in MULHOLLAND DRIVE. This video is well put together. The sequence from about 2:05 to 3:14 (both the song and the accompanying visuals) stopped my heart. Truly amazing.

What he said

2010-03-11T08:23:00.000-05:00

“Sometimes there are things in my head that are so purely what they are, that when I try to turn them into words, there either are no words or I just don’t know how and you can’t imagine how that feels. How hard it is to have an idea and not be able to share it.”

-Charlie Eppes, mathematical genius and often-frustrated communicator, on the difficulties in getting people to understand his ideas. from the CBS show "Numb3rs" (Season 4 Episode 10 - The Chinese Box)

Tidal Wave Goodbye

2010-03-03T08:34:00.000-05:00

I was awake early Saturday morning when the 8.8 Chile Earthquake struck, a quake so large that apparently, it has permanently made the day shorter. (I mean, what's up with that?)

Several hours later I turned on the TV to see all the Cable News Channels camped out in Hawaii, for an expected Tidal Wave hit at 4:05 p.m. (EST). It being 4:02, I hung out, wanting to see this Tidal Wave. (I thought it strange at the time that so many people were on or near the beach for a Tidal Wave. Aren't they devastating?)

Obviously (as with the Earthquake), I don't want anyone to get hurt. This includes people who refused to evacuate. But there was something comically absurd as - we all waited for this so-called Tidal Wave that never came. I finally gave up an hour later, but not before Twittering some real gems. Some of my best are reprinted below.

Is anyone else perversely excited to see the Tsunami waves about to hit Hawaii? I don't wish anyone specific harm....but Tidal Waves, baby!

This Tidal Wave watch is getting boring. HURRY UP, TSUNAMI! SOME OF US HAVE THINGS TO DO!!!

Maybe the Tidal Wave is like the whole "a watched pot never boils." Maybe if we all look away at the same time it will come. NO PEEKING!

This is why Tsunamis never get the same respect as Hurricanes, Forest Fires, Snowmageddons or Wayne Newton. If you RSVP show up on time!

Just heard the Tsunami was planned by the Canadian Olympic Committee. Oh, great.

Normally "TS" is a great combination. T.S. Eliot - great poet. General Tso - great chicken. Tom Sellick - great 'stache. TSunami - BORRRING!

I keep telling you that Band Names are important....

2010-02-24T17:06:00.000-05:00

16 year-old Blonde Twin sisters Jennifer & Jessica Farr were supposed to be the next big Pop sensation; great singers w/ that BAREST hint of naughty twincest appeal that would never be acknowledged, wink wink. Unfortunately, their handlers could not have picked a worse group name: "Wet Juicy Farr Twins."

I'll wait....

Bill Simmons on Big Guys

2010-02-18T09:37:00.000-05:00

Bill Simmons (a.k.a. "The Sports Guy) is my favorite Sports Columnist. He writes for ESPN.com's Page 2 on what's called Sports Guy's World. I was reading his annual column of most valuable contracts in the NBA when I came across this gem:

"If you ever played basketball, you know there's one rule with big guys: Make sure they touch the ball enough. If they don't get enough touches, they get cranky. They stop running the floor. They stop setting good picks. They stop crashing the boards. Big guys are like women -- they need affection, they need to be stroked every so often, and if you ignore them, they start to resent you."

Now that's some genius insight. And, just for the heck of it (since I Twittered and Facebooked it) - here is a quote from another part of the column. Bill was talking about All-Star Weekend (last Friday-Sunday in Dallas). Rather than try to set-up the quote properly, I'm just going to reprint the entire story. I hope that's legal.

....So it's 2:45 in the morning on Friday night. All the Dallas bars and parties have either closed down or stopped letting people in. I'm standing on Main Street with a bunch of people, including Worldwide Wes, the renowned NBA power broker who's really a cross between Confucius, a benevolent uncle and The Wolf in "Pulp Fiction" to assorted NBA superstars and up-and-coming stars. Known as "Uncle Wes" to the players, he carries more weight within the league than basically anybody. Because he keeps such a low profile, I could never figure out why. Which is why I went out of my way to spend some time with him on Friday night.

Back to Main Street: We're standing with a young player who wants the night to keep going. The young player pushes to find another bar even though the odds are against it. Uncle Wes makes a face. He's squashing this right now.

"Nothing good can happen at this point," Wes explains simply. "You can't chase the night. When the night is over, the night is over. That's just the way it is. You just gotta wake up tomorrow and hope for a better day."

Uncle Wes had spoken. I am not exaggerating by saying it's a strangely profound moment. Within 15 seconds, our group splinters in three directions to look for cabs. I find one with my friend Connor. We climb in. We look at each other.

"I will never be able to properly explain that story to anyone," Connor said.

Agreed. You can't chase the night. It was like hearing a human fortune cookie. I went back to my hotel, took my contacts out, crawled into bed and hoped for a better day. These are the things that happen at NBA All-Star Weekend.

Wow.

Homer and Marge

2010-02-09T16:45:00.000-05:00

Marge: So… you want to go on tour with a traveling freak show.
Homer: I don't think I have a choice, Marge.
Marge: Of course you have a choice.
Homer: How do you figure?
Marge: You don't have to join a freak show just because the opportunity came along.
Homer: You know, Marge, in some ways, you and I are very different people.

This quote comes from the Homerpalooza Episode (recap on TV.com or an expanded section on the Simpsons Archive, with quotes, gags, jokes, and more)

Anyway, Homer accidentally takes a canon-ball in the gut and lives, prompting an offer that he join the "Pageant of the Transmundane" (which by the way would make a great Fantasy Football team name or a prog-rock group & album name) - leading to a jump-cut where Homer has obviously just told Marge.

There is no way to describe how funny this exchange is without hearing it. What makes the whole thing work is that Homer doesn't make any jokes or act crazy. He's calm, polite, thoughtful, as if he's considering the strange ideas of someone from a far-off land, so foreign to him, and not in any way applicable, but interesting nonetheless. My entire family (especially my brother and I) use this quote regularly when someone says something so profoundly outside our experience. You should too!

I know how it feels

2010-02-01T07:24:00.002-05:00

500k

2009-12-16T02:23:00.000-05:00

I hit 500,000 hits for my website the other day. I know it's not much for some sites, but it made me happy.

(bottom right-hand side of picture)

(Thanks to Kaida for capturing the screen-shot and sending it to me)

The worst part is that I'm using a Kitty for my analogy

2009-10-19T23:52:00.004-04:00

Some ~~Days~~ ~~Weeks~~ ~~Months~~ ~~Years~~ ~~Decades~~ Lives are like that.....

Mirrored Desire

2009-07-29T06:06:00.000-04:00

Stretched taut and waiting....

Lavender Haze,

Promised Craze

Mirrored Desire locks Intent.....

Porcelain Skin

Now Begin.

The Hollow Men

2009-07-28T03:55:00.000-04:00

[I reprint this poem about every year. I think it's my favorite poem on Earth.]

The Hollow Men

T.S. Eliot

Mistah Kurtz—he dead.

     A penny for the Old Guy



     I

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
Remember us—if at all—not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.


     II

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death’s dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind’s singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death’s dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer—

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom


     III

This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man’s hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death’s other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.



     IV

The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death’s twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.



     V

Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o’clock in the morning.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
                               For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
                               Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
                               For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

Punishment/Salvation

2009-07-20T10:32:00.001-04:00

It was her Punishment, and her Salvation
For all Eternity, sentenced to stare at that Wall
To stare, and to remember a world she never knew.

Behind her back she reaches Forever
Hands impossibly gnarled, a story told in each wrinkle
Into those hands placed a Rose.

Her Punishment - flail herself with the Rose
To wound, to scourge, to cut and bleed
Thorns dig at skin, thorns dig at Shadow, Thorns dig at Sin

Yet...

Petals softer than silk, more soothing than the coolest balm
Whispering strokes spread comfort, ease pain, bring peace
The Rose revitalizes what the thorns tear asunder.

Every hour, of every day, Forever.

Because Lothing should Rhyme

2009-07-07T01:46:00.000-04:00

THINGS HYPERION HATES (remembering that he's so sick he's delirious)

Women Crying
Children Dying
Old Men Sighing
Fee-Fo-Figh-ing;

Leaders Lying
Catfish Frying
Swimsuits Drying
Why Ask Why-ing;

Mothers Prying
Job Applying
TP Buying
Rules for Flying;

Software Spying
Races Tying
Friends Ally-ing
Not Even Trying.

{A Hyperion production written by Hyperion Never forget the Abattoir}

Now and Forever

2009-06-18T07:46:00.002-04:00

You know who doesn't get enough credit? Richard Marx. James Taylor and Peter Frampton and that whole set...yeah, they're fine and dandy, but Richard Marx might have been the greatest Wuss Rocker (with a mullet) of all time. He needs his own top ten list. In the meantime, check out this heart-felt ballad that never gets enough attention. The lyrics are beautifully poignant.

Whenever I'm weary from the battles that rage in my head
You make sense of madness when my sanity hangs by a thread
I lose my way but still you seam to understand
Now and forever
I will be your man

Sometimes I just hold you
Too caught up in me to see

I'm holding a fortune that heaven has given to me
I'll try to show you each and every way I can
Now and forever
I will be you man

Now I can rest my worries and always be sure
That I won't be alone anymore
If I'd only known you were there all the time
All this time

Until the day the ocean doesn't touch the sand
Now and forever
I will be your man
Now and forever
I will be your man

Bob Dylan - Love Sick

2009-06-03T23:01:00.003-04:00

I'm really not that knowledgable bout Bob Dylan, but the deeper I delve the more I see the genius. I have more, but in comparison I would just sound stupid and inauthentic, so I'll shut up now.

Breakdown.

2009-05-29T17:15:00.001-04:00

I am supposed to have written a tribute that was to come out this morning...but I totally cannot concentrate on it. I got it half done, and then I break down.

Where's an Incan Monkey god when you need them?

...but a good idea is a good idea?

2009-05-28T10:08:00.003-04:00

I think I just accidentally propositioned a gay man. The Gays are a fine people, but I don't happen to swing that way. Do I attempt further communication, hoping to clear things up, or wait and see how he takes it?

(Sigh: it's sentences like that last one that get me into trouble in the first place. Luckily for me, besides a hip fashion sense and an ability to circumnavigate the ocean using only the stars as references, the Gays are known for a good sense of humor, so if fortune holds I may be okay.)

Here's what happened.

Someone I know needed a new "Internet" name since her co-worker was causing workplace hate on her. You've probably been there. As long-time readers know, I am be the bestest namer EVER, and would even consider halting my takeover of the world if I were allowed to simply name everything that happens/births/emerges from now on.

I jumped at the chance to supply the new name, but not knowing the woman very well (we only just met), I didn't have a lot of knowledge about what the name needed.

She ended up going with someone else's choice, and after initially attempting to insinuate (okay: flat-out claim) that the winning fellow sold poisoned milk to school children I gave up graciously (more or less) and congratulated him.

He responded, and I couldn't help throwing back a bitter comment that I felt like a Beauty Pageant Runner-up: fake smile, trying not to cry, and desperately hoping there were nude pictures of him out there somewhere.

I really knew nothing about the guy, despite his huge character flaw of beating me he seemed pretty cool, so I checked out his site, where I made the discovery that he was gay.

Suddenly my "desperately hoping for nudie pics" comment took on a whole new slant. I'm pretty sure (by context) he will know I was continuing the analogy of Runnerupdom, but best be prepared, yes?

(And yes, this whole thing played out on Twitter. You had to even ask?)

The most horriblest thing to ever happen

2009-05-25T04:20:00.003-04:00

Warning: do not read this entry if you are easily distraught and emotionally frail.

I have this this, this thing that I love to do. Call it comfort food....TO THE MAX. I take a regular box of Kraft Macaroni and cheese and prepare it normally. (Or, if I'm really lucky, I spring for the deluxe box. Yes it costs more, but you don't have to monkey with the powder, butter or milk, and the final product is so much smoother.)

Anyway, after everything is made, I add a smidge more milk and butter (for lube), and then go to town. I usually add cheddar, and if we have it Swiss, and heck: anything I can find. Then, I throw in black olives (if I have them), green olives (ditto), both all chopped up, maybe some grape tomatoes; I kinda go to town. One time I even added some refried beans. (Didn't really work, but it was worth a shot.)

Most importantly, I add some kind of meat. whatever is left over. Maybe I cut up that last piece of chicken or pork chop. Sausage is a real treat, although I like to cut it up and render it in the oven first, because A) little black flavor bits! and B) gets much of the fat out, which can mess up the dish. And of course, if the gods are with me, bacon.

I throw everything in a Pam-sprayed pie-tin, and then I crush up....something into a Ziploc bag, add some of that Parmesan you use on pasta, a tiny bit of melted butter, and sprinkle a little more melted cheese and the crumb topping all over. (Or if I'm feeling really decadent, I'll lay slices of Swiss on top or those mozzarella pull apart sticks.)

The whole thing goes into the oven until I can't stand it any longer, and I pull it out. I like the inside creamy, and even more important, the outside all crunchy with flavor. Usually I have a helping before it's done (can't wait), and then slip the dish back in the oven (turned off) until I'm ready for the second helping, which is to die for.

Cut to tonight. I bought the Kraft deluxe box almost a month ago, but somehow managed to save it for a special occasion. (Honoring people for Memorial Day...duh.) I had two cans of black olives that somehow survived in my room. (All I can say is that it's a good thing there is no can opener in here.)

A few days ago my dad made bacon, and I HEROICALLY hoarded it, going without a bacon and cheese bagel, which is the equivalent of Gandhi sleeping between two seventeen year old virgins every night to test his purity. (It's true; look it up.)

To top that all off, my mom got me my own can of green olives the other day: the stars were aligned. We had every cheese known to man, I had hoarded a few more, and I was set to go to work.

Now, when I say "hoarded," specifically when referring to things that go in the refrigerator, I am speaking of my mom's new "basket" system. Since we often eat at different times and different things, and since certain foods, if not nailed down, have a tendency to simply disappear, my mom thought putting four baskets in the fridge, each labeled with a name, would solve the problem. When she divided some foods up they went in the basket, and if I buy something for me, that's where it goes.

Sounds perfect, right?

[Cue horrific PSYCHO violin music]

Cut (back to) tonight. I had the deluxe box all made. My olives were cut up nicely and dry. I found medium cheddar and sharp cheddar (already shredded!), my hoarded brie, mozzarella sticks and some sort of cubed Colby jack from Hickory Farms. There was even some pre-shredded fiesta blend of four cheeses; the kind you buy in the grocery store for taco night. To top it all off, our Parmesan wasn't the Kraft powder kind that's pretty low quality, but actually shredded and delicious.

BUT SOMEONE STOLE MY BACON!

IN CASE YOU MISSED THAT LAST SENTENCE, SOMEONE TOOK MY BACON!

To recap: this wasn't bacon that was for everyone, and I counted on it but came upon bad luck. That has happened to me more times than I care to remember, but life goes on. No, this was bacon specifically mine, already cooked, and not eaten--WHICH IF YOU KNOW ME, OR BACON, IS REALLY REALLY HARD--and to top things off--IT WAS IN MY "BASKET" IN THE FRIDGE!!!!!!!

I mean, what is the point of having a Hyperion Basket in the first place if people can just take bacon out of there all willy nilly? Did you know that in some cultures you can legally kill a man for taking your bacon. (Okay, not really, but wouldn't that be a just and fair law? Who but child molesters would be against it?)

So here I am, ready to assemble the greatest Macaroni and Cheese casserole one can possibly make not completely from scratch, and I am thwarted by the missing bacon. I'm not going to sit here and tell you I cried. But I cried. (In my defense, they were tears of rage.)

Now, you might be saying, "Hyperion, by your own admission you've gone without bacon in your mac'n'cheese bake before. It's not the end of the world."

True enough. There have been times without bacon. Surely the wonderful black and green olives would be enough to console me in my hour of need. But you're forgetting one important fact.

The pain of no bacon is great, but the pain of expected bacon THAT DOES NOT ARRIVE is so great as to be like gangrene of hope. All that is left is amputation. Of your dreams.

Sniff sniff.

So I don't have bacon. In a few minutes I will go into the kitchen, going through the motions like a man in a loveless marriage, and pull my baked dish from the oven. The Keebler Club Cracker-crust (with that little bit of butter and Parmesan and just a touch of pepper) will give off heat and color to impress the most heartless of food judges. My dish will smell delicious, and taste like ash in my mouth.

Oh, and to make matters worse? I just remembered there is sliced provolone I forgot all about.

Latest Injury Update - Clue?

2009-05-09T23:38:00.003-04:00

Not only did one ankle go down, they both went down, simultaneously! I am not even kidding.

Actually, it gives me some clue as to how this may be happening. Long-time readers know that for years one ankle or the other would inexplicably suddenly just go down, making walking difficult or impossible, and of course very very painful.

The injuries themselves are not inexplicable; I know what I have, finally, but how the "event" that would trigger each episode has always been a mystery, as is the duration of the incapacitation. 48 hours, a week, 2 weeks, 8 weeks.

Anyway, this morning I had fallen asleep, but was still in half-sleep. My right ankle had been hurting a bit since last night, but it was more feeling sore. I was watching it carefully. So, I'm half-dreaming and suddenly I feel both ankles pop at once and then tremendous pain. I was asleep during this, so I didn't really register was actually going on, but then I wake up two hours later and it's so bad I have to pull out the plastic jug. (And if you don't know what that means, I'm not tellin'.)

For the longest time the episodes are always "discovered" by me upon waking. I speculated that perhaps I was "twisting" the ankle muscles isometrically against the mattress, perhaps caught (because of my giant feet) while my body was turning from one position to the next. (When not dreaming I turn all over the place. Even dreaming I often will awaken for 1.2 seconds, only long enough to change sides.)

I know this sounds like a crazy theory, and I'm not an expert in kinesiology or neurology or...I'm not even sure what the other related fields would be. (What more proof of my non-expert status do you need?)

But to me the force metrics seems to work. My feet are gigantic, and stuck on this tiny mattress I am shoehorned to begin with. (Sorry for the preposition. My pain medicine just wore off and if I don't get this written right now quickly I won't do it.) If one foot got caught under the other leg, or I just turned with too much torque, I could see twisting the ankle against the relatively immobile mattress until the of my body made the shift. I wouldn't know I did it until awakening, because I'm asleep.

(As I was only half asleep earlier today, perhaps that's why I felt the pops, although it doesn't explain how I could twist both at the same time, assuming the theory was correct. Maybe I was involved in some sort of nefarious plot to stop the Nazis. Who knows?)

***

As a follow-up that has nothing to do with anything, Carlos called on the way back from the Casino. He wanted me to hang out at Denny's for an hour or so and meet his woman. (I'd say girlfriend, but for all I know they got engaged or even married at the Casino.) Truth told I didn't like the idea of hobbling all the way outside, but he was going to pick me up and let me sit in the backseat of an SUV with my feet up, and I could put my ankles up at Denny's, too, so all in all it didn't seem like such a risk.

So then just a few minutes ago Carlos calls. "We're on LaGrange. What turn do we take?"

LaGrange? Can't think of any streets around here called that, especially near the exits. "Wait, are you ON LaGrange or IN LaGrange?"

"Dude, I told you, we're in LaGrange. We are on 85."

"Carlos, 85 doesn't come near Columbus. You're way north of here. You're 50 miles from here."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I told you we'd come visit. We'll still come down."

"No, dude. You're 50 miles from here, but you're halfway home. (To Atlanta.) You don't want to backtrack all that way. Just keep on to home, and I'll see you another time."

It's just as well; tomorrow is Mother's Day, and if I am not 2 levels worse than now (Meaning Mobility is reduced to almost absurd levels and pain is through the roof), than I am going to figure out a way to make it to the big Mother's Day dinner. In the meantime, it would be beneficial to rest, and ice as much as possible all night. (Of course, the only problem with that plan is that ever time I would get up to change ice packs I do more damage to the ankle. Might be better to ice just once, for as long as possible, and then otherwise just keep the ankles elevated all night. (Insert inappropriate joke here.)

I feel like I should wrap up with something; a conclusion, an closing anecdote, a denouement. This is why I suck at blogging and so rarely do it.

I guess the best I can do is to say to Carlos (who doesn't go online so will never see this): thanks for trying, dude.

And what really sucks? He was going to drive through McDonald's and bring me a bunch of Mcnuggets. I could use a bunch of Mcnuggets right now. Or some bag-fries.

Ode to Bag Fries

2009-05-08T23:19:00.003-04:00

You know how you pull away from the Drive-Thru, determined to make it home without eating your food ('cause you're civilized and shit), but you see those fries flirting with you, peaking out of the top all slutty and inviting, and the smell is intoxicating, and maybe just one?

You know how when you dig your fingers down into those hot salty fries sticking out of the top of the bag, and the fries are fresh and still too hot and you burn your fingers a little bit on the oil but you don't put the fries back, because the pain is one of those good hurts that make the fries taste even better?

Yeah, me too.

She likes 'em hot and oiled and she craves the pain.

You DON'T mess with Hyperion's Friends

2009-05-01T13:09:00.002-04:00

A few days ago my friend (and occasional football scout) Wordnerd had a particularly nasty run-in with a co-worker. You know the type: he's attending night school to get his DoucheBag degree. The incident involved purposely not holding an elevator, and rather than confront said d'bag, Wordnerd appealed to her net-friends to curse the man properly.

There were a few misfires, but most of the curses were pretty good. And then there was mine.....

Thoughtfully, I have pasted them below. Again, keep in mind: this man is a total jack-ass.

April 27, 2009 at 5:58 pm

May sand fleas infest your underwear drawer.

May your favorite professional sports team get caught in an orgy with the team you most hates.

May your bicycle get stolen by a ten year old girl, who comes by daily to taunt you over it, and regularly kicks your ass just to maintain her dominance.

May a video of you and a goat (a literal goat) surface on You Tube.

May the goat be unattractive.

May you be raped by pit bulls.

My incontrovertible video evidence show that the pit-bull love was consensual. May this evidence show up on You Tube.

May the pit bulls be unattractive.

May you find romance online with a younger woman, who actually “gets” you, and may you eventually meet her and fall in love with her and leave your family for a shot at true happiness.

May your new love be nine months pregnant and in the hospital ready to deliver, and may you meet her mother for the first time, and realize she’s someone you hooked up with in college, the girl who’d just dropped out one day and nobody knew why, but there were rumors she was pregnant, and I think you know where I’m going with this…..

DON’T F**K WITH WORDNERD, ’cause I can make all this happen.

Betrayal Painting - The backstory

2009-05-01T03:43:00.003-04:00

I was asked about a painting I featured at the beginning of my Top Ten List of Betrayal Quotes.

Here is the painting:

The painting is called "Phryne Before the Areopagus" by Jean-Leon Gerome.

You're gonna wanna check out the Wikipedia Page on Phryne. One of the better stories you'll read this month. (And I say that on May 1st. Yeah. I went there.)

My goal really is to take over the Internet by owning EVERY website

2009-04-28T23:36:00.002-04:00

Just got a multiple Brain-Explosion for 4 new website ideas. (I know, I know, but still)

Anyone up for something new and cool, let me know.

Getting my Sword Sharpened

2009-04-26T22:33:00.001-04:00

In honor of International Pirates vs. Ninja Day

Pixies - Where Is My Mind At?

2009-04-25T07:04:00.002-04:00

Someone I follow on Twitter named Izabael (http://twitter.com/izabael/) posted a link to this Pixies' song. I love the song, but I'm even more interested in seeing if I can embed it. If this works, I can start posting music without always having to post the video, which sometimes gets int the way.

[Fingers Crossed]

Doris Mortman

2009-04-25T03:56:00.001-04:00

“Until you make peace with who you are, you'll never be content with what you have.”

~Doris Mortman

Lift Up Thine Eyes (Pain No More)

2009-04-25T01:27:00.002-04:00

I generally try to only complain about things that don't matter, truly inconsequential things, which taken en masse as "meta," reveal a mocking commentary on myself and people who really do complain 24/7. It's part of my Reverse-Polarity Street Cred.

Of course, it only works if I am copacetic about the medium and big things in Life; of which I handle with varying degrees of success. I have tried hard to cultivate and earn a reputation of stoicness (stoicity? stoicallity?) when it comes to pain. It's a big part of my life, but we all got something, yes?

Lately I admit falling off the wagon. Not so much on my website(s), but on Facebook and Twitter I noticed I have been carping up a storm. I suppose legitimately people do want to know what's going on, and though I treat Status Updates as mini-theatre, it IS for giving the 411 (or with my long-windedness, the 822), and even then, I have tried to be funny, to allow the pain to be entertaining to others.

But I is done with that.

As I often like to slap into others--and as should often be slapped into me--we all got problems, but others have it worse. That doesn't de-legitimize our feelings. A bad day sucks for us, no matter where on the "Suck" scale it actually ranks. But we gotz to have perspective. Blowing off steam after a tough shift at work can be therapeutic. Do it every day and it becomes habit, infects your attitude, and almost guarantees more misery in the future.

But I digress; I was scolding me.

Yeah, I gotz me some pain, but it ain't nothin' but a thing, compared to some. Just read an update about a friend of mine; from his wife. Why hasn't the friend bothered to keep people informed? Oh, he's been in the hospital for four weeks, in so much pain he doesn't know where he is or what's going on.

Maybe, if it's not too much trouble, I can manage to shut the fuck up about my own whatever, and focus on others. Maybe, if I can get around to it, I can remember that there are so many less fortunate and if I have absolutely nothing better to do, maybe I can even help someone else out sometime.

But at least I can do the shut up part.

From here on, I will cease complaining about pain. (Semironically, I have been working on a column on pain, but I think there are big-picture issues there that need to be addressed, so I will continue, albeit with more humility.)

Pain is part of everyone's life, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a large part of mine, so ignoring it altogether would be weird after awhile. So I'm not saying that it never comes up. Things happen, they are part of life or whatever story I'm telling, and even if all that weren't true, you people, my Tribe, many of you care and want to know. (Awwwwwwwww.)

I'm just sayin' that I'm not going to Woe-Is-Me any more. Now, me sayin' it and it being true are often two different things, so if I start to moan and groan, you call me on it. Mock me, challenge me, tell me to think of the Children. Well, not them, but something!

You know, in the Bible there is an ofte-used phrase, "Lift up thine eyes." There are many meanings to the expression in Hebrew, but one of them is to focus on others, and moreover, it means to get out of your comfort zone. When we focus on others, when we get out of that little place where we feel safe and warm, we grow as people. I may not be able to take away everyone's pain, but if I am going to focus on pain, I want it to be others', even if it is pain and people who make me uncomfortable.

And maybe that helps my pain abate, so it's win/win.

Or at the very least, at least I'll shut up.

Twitter Dreamz

2009-04-20T06:10:00.001-04:00

I finally -- FINALLY! -- figured out a bit what I am doing on Twitter. "How Hypey got his groove back." I can now, with a clear conscience, totally recommend you follow me there. Whether you have a phone or just use internet, you need to be on Twitter, if only just for me. -

https://twitter.com/EmperorHyperion

Hid-Def

2009-04-07T01:37:00.000-04:00

Watched my first Blu-Ray movie last night. THE PRINCESS BRIDE. All I can say is Wow.

Speak No Evil

2009-03-29T07:24:00.003-04:00

I've decided to give up speaking aloud.

Until Easter. At least.

If you must communicate with me, email me. Write on my Wall on Facebook. IM me. Send me an ecard.

smoke signals.

esp.

But no speaking.

Ralph Ellison Quote of the Day

2009-03-25T05:18:00.001-04:00

"When I discover who I am, I'll be free."

-Ralph Ellison

Prisoners of TIME

2009-03-22T15:08:00.002-04:00

We are Prisoners of TIME.

Not having the first idea what it means,
Not understanding that it is Not TIME that enslaves us, but that
Our very idea of what Time is what
Shackles us,
Limits us,
Defines our lives in every way possible.

We are Prisoners of TIME, and we do not even know it.

Oh, we know that we live by the Clock,
Rushing to and fro in an endless maze,
Desperate to make this meeting or that Soccer Game, and
God forbid if we forgot to set the TiVo for Idol.

But these things are not Prison. These things are
Little children playing at dress-up in their parents' clothes,
Going through the motions and repeating things they've heard,
With only the vaguest Clue of what they mean.

We are Prisoners of TIME because we do not understand what
TIME is, and more importantly, what it is not.

We think of TIME as a Dimension, a Duration, a Reality;
Part of our Physical World.

It is none of these things.

If we knew what TIME really was, we would not believe it.

So, we hold to our Construct. We accept the World as it is presented to us.

We stay in our Prison, never even glancing at the Iron Door,
Never noticing the Key already in the Latch, just
Waiting to be turned and

Set us Free.

:(

2009-03-21T08:40:00.001-04:00

Here I go again

2009-03-16T18:41:00.001-04:00

out About to head out to a surprise birthday party (60th) for my dad. I have him, and am responsible for getting him there.

This is either going to be a huge success, or you will be reading about me on CNN. There's really no in-between.

More later.

World's Biggest Dwarf

2009-03-12T11:30:00.004-04:00

Yesterday I took my sister to get some food. We passed a Chick-Fil-A, and my cravings overcame me. Remembering my brother's ruling that a "Dwarf House" wasn't fast food, I turned in.

(In case you're not familiar, the Chick-Fil-A Dwarf House restaurants all have Dwarf Doors.....like this one:)

So, anyway, as we pull in, I notice that it's a regular Chick-Fil-A, looks like most stand-alone restaurants. Jerrica hasn't noticed this yet, and so I try one last loophole.....

"Have you ever heard of an eight foot dwarf?"

Sadly, no. The Chick-Fil-A drought goes on.

Facebook saves the Day....or does it?

2009-03-12T11:07:00.002-04:00

Last night I was on my way to the library (itself a post that will probably never get written) when I suddenly remembered that today was the planned Julianne Moore List. I had not mentioned it to A.B. in weeks, and I was afraid that by the time I got home she would be unavailable.

I happened to have a borrowed cell phone on me. I called (from Georgia) out to Bear, working in Seattle. (He was my first choice because he's reliable, and because it was 7:00 my time, and he was the only one I could think of who might still be at work.)

I explained to Bear what I needed him to do. "Go to Facebook. Go to me. Look up my Friends. Go to A.B." (Bear doesn't know her.) "Message A.B. that I'm away from a computer but tomorrow is the Julianne Moore post, and I should be home about 8:30, so she shouldn't make plans."

This is more or less what I said. You know, I'm hot and I'm tired and stressed; I can't remember word for word.

Well, THIS is the forwarded Message A.B. sent me later. This is what my "friend" Bear sent:

I'm writing this message for Hyperion. He says that he is away from a computer until 8:30 p.m. Eastern, but he just remembered that tomorrow is the Julianne Moore post, so he wanted to remind you that, in case you had other plans like going out whoring (his words, not mine!).

I tell you the truth: there is no honor in the world. Bear's just lucky he's clear across the country.....

(On the plus side, is Facebook taking over the world or what? I've been working on a huge series of columns about this, but I never have time to finish it, because I'm always on Facebook!)

Lentils Update

2009-03-09T12:27:00.002-04:00

An update on my goal to give up 7 things for Lentils.

CHIPS - They are all over the house, so there has been some frustration, especially the other day when I had Subway (love Love LOVE to put chips in my sandwiches), but overall not too bad.

SUGAR SODA - Piece of Cake, although I kinda feel that I okie-doked Lentils. I've been drinking a lot of iced tea lately, the idea was more to give up sugar in beverages than mere soda. Still...Rome wasn't built in a day.

GAMES ON THE COMPUTER - Shockingly easy. I spent a lot of time doing online jigsaw puzzles (while listening to podcasts, or to just give me time to think), but I have been able to use podcast "downtime" more constructively, and the less thinking I do, perhaps the better .

BEEF JERKY - Not that tough, and I have some not five feet from my bed. Part of it may be that I had been on overload in the weeks leading up to Lentils.

PAIN MEDICINE - My family Vetoed this virtually on Day 1, for them more than even me. I ended up relenting (I'm nothing if not reasonable), and substituting "Using the Socratic Method to Teach." I FIRMLY believe that if you puzzle something out--even with help--you'll learn better, but I have to admit there is probably part of me that just likes lording knowledge over people, so until Lentils is over, I have been trying not to make people guess or work it through. (But I am right that it's better. Lazy people......)

RE-RUNS ON TV - This one is so tough! I haven't sat down to watch any program, butI realized that's not really how I watch re-runs. I tend to do five minutes here or there, or between commercials, and a couple of times I have caught a minute or two, arguing with myself if I have actually "seen" the episode or not. Biggest regret: not making a Simpsons exception.

FAST FOOD - Murder. Absolute murder. The other day I took my sister to Arby's, and they had this new Arby's "burger." I cannot tell you how much I wanted to try it. Even more difficult: Chick-Fil-A. I ALWAYS want Chick-Fil-A, but lately my cravings have hit astronomical levels. I tried telling myself that if I go in and sit down it's not fast food, but in my heart I know it would be. This one may kill me yet.

Musical Definitions

2009-03-07T13:25:00.003-05:00

A LIFE DEFINED BY MUSIC

MY LIFE

MY BRAIN

MY SPIRIT

MY SOUL

For the Love of Lentils

2009-02-25T11:18:00.000-05:00

So, I don't follow Lent, but I do follow Lentils, which happens roughly at the same time.

(It's not a coincidence. The Church ripped off Lentils to form Lent, the same way various Christmas and Easter traditions were once assimilated.)

In previous years I have given up ice cream, potato chips, beef jerky, Swearing and last year I even gave up mockery.

I KNOW!!!!

This year I decided to "up the ante," as those who say that might say. I am giving up not one, not two, but 7 things for Lentils. Will I keep the faith? Will it kill me? Only time will tell.

Here are my 7 things, so that I may stay accountable.

1. Chips - I should not be eating them, but they are so good! Lately I have been obsessed with baked chips and especially Kettle chips. What makes it even harder is that there happen to be many chips in the house right now- and three bags of them are mine! However, the open bags will be eaten by others (I hope I hope), and my bags will be put away somewhere; they will keep.

2. Sugar Soda - This one will be especially tough, because I love grape soda and Peach Ne-hi and Ginger Ale and Cranberry anything, and I think this means I can't haveslushes. (Will have to consult a Lentils Fryer to be sure.) Even more horrific - THIS MEANS NO GRAITCH. Until Easter. Hmmmm.

3. Fast Food - This one might be dang near impossible, but I'm nothing if not the bravest person who ever lived. What sucks is that we have a newArby's close by, and I have these amazing Burger Kings coupons that are buy one get one free. (BOGOF makes any fast food place taste better.) And Sonic just came out with a new value meal.....ARGH!! I had to get a ruling on Chick-Fil-A. My brother Achmed said it would only be non-fast food if I went to one of their Dwarf Houses (sit-down restaurant) and was served instead of using the counter. BUT THERE ARE NOT ANY DWARF HOUSES NEARBY!

Why do I make these stupid decisions?

4. Beef Jerky - When I gave up beef jerky in a previous year it was slightly disingenuous, since I had none at the time and not much prospect for that changing. (Although: had a truckload of beef jerky shown up, I would have have eaten it.) This time it will be much harder, as I have some of the best beef jerky in the world just a few feet from me! What are the odds I don't crack? Only the power of Lentils can save me!

5. Re-Runs on TV. Lately I have been finding comfort in some old favorites, like The Simpsons, Family Guy, Law & Order, The West Wing, Monk, House, MASH, Seinfeld, Scrubs, and even 30 Minute Meals. I'm a fan of TV, but I should allot my precious viewing habits to new stuff, not old. (One exception. I am going to watch several Easter movies this year and provide a running diary for your amusement.)

6. Computer Games, including (gulp) Jigsaw Puzzles. Giving up the Cheesy Double Beef Burrito at Taco Bell (only 89 cents!) is awful. Giving up my daily jigsaw puzzle might actually kill me. It's not that I'm wasting time; I do the puzzles while I'm listening topodcasts , which are partly research for my own upcoming show, and partly because I enjoy some of them. You can't really write while listening to a podcast, but I will just have to find SOMETHING to do instead.

7. Pain Medicine - This one may actually get superseded, if I ever get into a Pain Management Clinic. (Currently what happens is that I get accepted, and then they cancel me right before my first appointment, thus crushing my hopes and dreams of living a ~~pain free~~ reduced-pain existence.) What I'm talking about is mostly over the counter stuff, like Ibuprofen, which I have been taking every four hours since 1995 or so. Well, it seems that way. I'm not even sure if it's helping, but I would rather have the true picture of what's going on with my body, and attempt to come at it another direction. (Ditto on theVicodin . I cannot figure out why House takes that. It was prescribed to me for the first time in my life a few weeks ago, and it does NOTHING for my ankles. It will help my back a bit, but I would have to take 5 of them to get that effect, and I'm sure there is a downside to that, so no thank you.) (And no, I will not send you the rest of the bottle. My body has always fought medicine like a cornered badger, but from all accounts it will mess up you regular folk.

Those 7 things are my Pledge for Lentils. Why don't you join me? I don't expect you to give up 7 things, but Lentils can be a very positive experience. Leave a comment with what you are giving up, or send me an email, and I will help keep you encouraged!

Hyperion
2/25/09