Thanks, KG

A belated post, but KG was an amazing, exciting player and an intriguing person, and a very big reason why I followed the NBA in the 1990s and 2000s.

I don't have much more to say than that.

Britt Robson's fitting tribute...
https://www.minnpost.com/sports/2016/09/true-grit-kevin-garnett-greatest-timberwolf-who-ever-lived-passes-baton

And some analysis of how he changed the definition of greatness...
http://fivethirtyeight.com/features/kevin-garnett-was-the-nbas-future/

The More You Know...

If you are repulsed by Donald Trump, but you also think that there is something so wrong with Hillary Clinton that you don't feel you can vote for her, I have something for you to think about. Please consider that the same people and the same forces that ushered Trump into a place of prominence in national politics have been relentlessly trying to malign Clinton for twenty-five years.

It could be that many of the negative impressions you have about Clinton are the product of a long-term smear campaign, and just plain wrong.

Ka-BOOM!

Harry Reid is tired of trying to reason with these people. Can you blame him?

Fun With The Magic Twitter Machine

It seems like a lot of fun is to be had on Twitter when clueless corporate shills stick their toe into roiling waters of social media. Last month, it was the Fix The Debt campaign who found themselves on the business end of the Twitter-ball bat.

 And now, yesterday, it seems that J. P. Morgan thought that it would be a good idea to reach out to the social media community for a Q and A session with JPM Vice Chairman Jimmy Lee. Hilarity, it did ensue.

Perhaps one day I shall purify myself in the cleansing waters of Lake Twitter. Sadly, "Knight of Nothing" is already taken.

Holy Shit

I'd better get my act together - 

"I'm a good person, I just am making bad choices."  Wrong.  You're not a good person until you make good choices.  Until then you are chaos.

And you know it.

Cuts right to the bone, that.

Ladies and Gentlemen, The Party of Fiscal Responsibility

Somehow I missed this story last July, but it is still relevant, as House Republicans are pushing to vote for the 37th time to repeal ACA. Fifty million dollars for absolutely nothing.

Reminder: these public tantrums cost money! I hasten to add that this enormous cost isn't at all surprising - anyone who works for a big company can tell you that meetings are expensive. And what is a vote on the floor of the House of Representatives if not one gigantic meeting?

Why Didn't She Call Him Back?

Perhaps the greatest voicemail ever left on a machine. Must be heard.

Guy Tries to Be Sauve sound bite

My question is, how come there isn't an epic love story at the end of this rainbow of love? I wish I knew. And most important, how come I didn't hear about this meme sooner?

Not Exactly 007

Oops. But it kinda reminds me of Spy vs. Spy.

Pretty Much Sums Up The Bush Years

Three cheers for David Rees, who made the insanity of 9/11 and the grotesque politics that that tragedy spawned hilarious, if painfully so. After seven years, he's wrapping up Get Your War On this month. It was a brilliant web comic. Godspeed my friend.

Thankless Cube

In honor of Cubezoo, I post this collection of Wired's worst office accommodations.

Tagtastic

Not a day passed when he did not fulminate against Batista (That ox! That peasant!) or Castro (The goat-fucking comunista!) or CIA chief Allen Dulles (That effeminate!), who had failed to stop Batista's ill-advised Mother's Day Amnesty that freed Fidel and the other moncadistas to fight another day.

Needless to say, I've been tagged. Lately I haven't been keeping with my bloggerly duties. The rules...

1. Pick up the nearest book (at least 123 pages).
2. Turn to page 123.
3. Find the 5th sentence.
4. Post the 5th sentence on your blog.
5. Tag 5 people.

The passage was taken from The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, by Junot Diaz. Great book, by the way. I highly recommend it. I still haven't written my review of it. So sue me.

I tag LLTK, JFB, Lacifer, Miz Verde, and Onion Town.

I Suck!

I suck! You know how I know? Someone on the internet told me so! So it must be true. Thank goodness a faceless, anonymous dork trolling youtube had the courage to tell me so. I could have gone my whole life without knowing! The horror, the horror!

There is something deeply satisfying about being insulted anonymously. It's like, damn, people care enough to watch the shit I put out on the internet (!), and even take the time to complain about it (!!). Does that constitute "making it"? Well, probably not. But it is amusing that some jackass from Phoenix watched the Strummones and felt so strongly about us that he had to reveal to the world his keen insights and issue such a probing, thoughtful critique.

Bathtime

I'm in the midst of a divorce. While my wife and I get everything sorted, I'm living at my mother's. It isn't really so bad - my mom still lives in the house of my childhood. Which brings back a lot of fond memories and all, but there is one big problem with this scenario: not one shower in the house. That's right: her gigantic, three story, five-plus bedroom, two bathroom house has no shower. Sub-optimal.

So I bathe every day. Now I happen to think that a bath is just dandy every now and again: a fine, relaxing avenue of supplemental hygenie. As a primary method of cleansing oneself, however, it leaves something to be desired. But here is the real kick in the shorts: my mom insists on having a bath hose connected to the faucet. Which would be ok, except that the hose is really narrow and her water pressure is very strong. Ever see those cartoons where the firehose flails around spraying everything? That's me every fucking morning.

Aren't You Dogs Supposed To Be Helping Me?

One of the very few advantages of living nearby a major university is the presence of all the college-aged women in the area. I see them often while out walking my dogs: sunbathing, bike-riding, walking to class, and generally doing what girls do when not going wild. But inevitably, when one of these lovely young lasses approaches, one of my dogs squats to take a dump. So instead of smiling and saying hello to these women as they pass by, I am in the undignified position of bending down to pick up my dog's excrement. Thanks a lot, fellas.

1-2-3 Not It!

Dammat, I've been tagged again! DAV at Evil Bobby is back to his nefarious ways. I already posted five random facts about myself over at LLTK. But I suppose this is technically a fair tag, because it requires eight facts, not five. So I'd better honor it. I don't know if my facts will qualify as "random," since it is difficult to randomize one's own thoughts. Maybe if I write down 2^16 facts and then dice for the final eight, they might seem random enough. This could take a while...

1. Among nerds, I suppose I could qualify as a "utility infielder." I game, take pictures of astronomical objects, read nonfiction, watch Angel reruns, wear costumes, read Lord of the Rings again and again, listen to Weird Al, and explain the difference between a geek and a nerd.

2. I never got my black belt. I injured my right elbow punching someone's lights out, and while I was on an extended leave, my martial arts instructor committed suicide. That was sad. I really want to go back and finish someday. But when you make it as far as I did, it is difficult to switch teachers. And he was a great one.

3. If all goes well, I am going to direct a rock video this summer! A friend asked me to help him make one. I've done some pretty gonzo movies in the past, but never a music video. It should be fun.

4. I have one God-child. Considering my own spiritual journey was recently shaken, I need to reflect upon how to be a mentor in her life without undermining her parents' beliefs and compromising my own.

5. My driver's license says that I weigh 195. What a splendid fiction! I think I'm pushing 210. But I don't really know, because I've been too scared to get on the scale for the last couple of months. I was hovering around 190 at this time last year. Then everything went to hell. Anyone need a workout partner?

6. I feel guilty that I never wrote a review about Pan's Labyrinth. To my mind, it was probably the best movie I saw in the last 12 months. Why should I feel guilty?!? It's not like anyone is expecting it. I don't have to turn it in. No one cares! But the shame remains.

7. I buy Powerball tickets when the jackpot goes over $100 million. What is the point of dreaming small? I don't want to gamble a dollar for a mere $47 million. Readers who have been around a while probably remember this plan. I'm biding my time.

8. I am still thinking about how to implement my idea.

I am hard-pressed to come up with eight names. LLTK, GeistX, and DAV have taken almost everyone I know. Tagging: Manda (no pressure, I swear), Doreen, Rocky (who has yet to respond to his first tag), Basil, Patty (I know you're out there), jfb, Mikey, and Lacey (surprise!).

One Hundred

I started this blog at the beginning of the year, and here I am six months later, still at it. Not to sound too pleased with myself, but I'm hitting a minor milestone with this post: one hundred essays and other bits of nonsense published in this, my humble corner of the web. Not bad! My goal was to put something up every other day or so, and I'll be damned if I haven't been successful at keeping that pace! How bout that?

So now what? I updated a few fonts and colors, for starters. What else can I do to improve this space? Well, I read recently that the best blogs have a specific, targeted focus, continually riffing on a narrowly defined theme. Dammat, that's not me! I have a ridiculously broad set of interests. I guess the only thing I can do is make the writing better. I'd like to see this space get smarter, funnier, more outrageous and more sublime. Suggestions welcome. Your call will be answered in the order in which it was received. See you soon.

Do I Smell Symmetrical?

One of many advantages of insomnia is the fascinating television programs that you come across. This morning I watched transfixed as Sharon Stone explained to me in her sultry voice the Science of Beauty on Discovery HD Theater. Apparently women at the peak of their fertility cycle can pick the hottest guy without even seeing him, simply by smelling his BO. Isn't that awesome?

Here's how it worked: scientists took precise body measurements of men, checking for symmetrical, masculine features. Then they had these men wear t-shirts for two days and asked that they avoid strenuous physical activity, strong-smelling foods, and alcohol. Finally, they presented the t-shirts to ovulating women. They discovered that the women consistently selected as most appealing the scent of the shirts worn by men whose features are most symmetrical. Damn natural selection.

I wish I had a grant to do this kind of research.

Weekend by the Numbers

Number of birthday parties: 2
Number of dinners at home (out of three nights): 1
Total number of houseguests: 13
Loads of dishes done: 6
Loads of dishes left in sink: 1
Films seen: 1
Amount of time elapsed between scheduled start of film
      and actual start time: 37 minutes
Time spent at JC Penny's looking at purses: 15 minutes
Creatures slain: 3 (dragon turtle, zombie, werecrocodile)
Rank of Kasugai gummis, in deliciousness: 1
Sticks of butter stolen by pets: 1/2
Number of vodka martinis made: 4
Amount of whiskey in bread pudding, according to recipe: 1/2 cup
Actual amount of whiskey in bread pudding: 1 cup
Number of mohawks given to dogs: 1
Ice cream consumed in gallons: 3/4
Six packs of beer acquired for weekend gathering: 2
Six packs of beer remaining after weekend gathering: 2.667
Hours spent cleaning: 10
Satisfaction with cleanliness of house, scale of 1-10: 5
Cups of rice cooked: 4
Cups of rice served: 0
Books purchased: 3
Books read: 0
Number of walks: 2
Chance encounters at grocery store: 1
Number of naps desired: 2
Number of naps taken: 0
Overall satisfaction with weekend, scale of 1-10: 8
Number of naps needed to make weekend a 10: 2

Life's a Riot with Spy vs. Spy

Do you harbor paranoid fantasies about everyone around you? Do you have an unnatural love of secrecy? Do you mentally calculate every possibility, no matter how absurd? Do you nurture an internal, unshakable belief in something which has no basis in reality? Do you obsess about controlling your surroundings? Are you withdrawn to the point of being a sociopath?

If you're like me, you probably try to hide these character flaws. But in the world of Cold War espionage as portrayed in The Good Shepard, these are survival skills. I often had secret agent fantasies as a boy, fueled by popular culture and film. And the idea still has a certain dangerous, edgy appeal. But Matt Damon's stoic, somber demeanor in the film reminds me too much of what I have been like during periods of my life. The traits that make a person a successful spy seem to be woefully at odds with the traits that make a person happy and fulfilled. I suppose there are plenty of creepy "spy personalities" lurking in the world today. It's probably a good thing that I'm not one of them. :-)

The problem with the film wasn't that it was too glamorous, nor too depressing, it was that it was not enough of either. Having been raised on the Iran-Contra hearings, then later exploring the whole history of the CIA, I know that the American intelligence community has had ridiculous highs and abysmal lows. The film is too earnest: one critic said it was "the Godfather of Spy Movies." Apt enough, I suppose. After all, it was directed by Robert DeNiro and executive produced by Francis Coppola. Ultimately, though, it was too fictionalized and procedural to be a character study, too melodramatic to be a history, and too polished and clean to be anything other than a Hollywood kiss-and-tell. Check out this video instead.

Not Now, I'm Busy!

Holy shit am I busy! Work is in high gear. They about doubled the requirements for the Q2 software release last week, but they did not extend the deadline nor the development phase of the project. Thankfully Spring is starting to sink in to my impenetrably thick skull. But I'm putting in a lot of extra time trying to complete my deliverables by our due date.

In other words, it's the perfect time to read a challenging and engaging book about the existence of God, resurrect my campaign, rekindle some friendships by becoming a regular in the Thursday night outings with the lads, nurse this tiresome case of carpal tunnel, write more in my blog, implement the idea, and plan that trip to Africa.

Go manic personality!