I just find it interesting that Danish filmmaker Lars Von Trier's new film condemning American culture is quietly opening in the US while the Middle East has gone batshit over a Danish cartoon.
You know, The League took a year of Danish in college. Seriously.
1) I dropped Spanish after the first day as the teacher refused to speak any English. It wasn't my fault my Spanish teacher in high school was, shall we say, laissez faire, and let us play cards during class (but never for money!).
At UT there was some rule that if you had two years of high school Spanish you HAD to take advanced beginning Spanish as we should all have been on the same level.
Oh, mercy. Excuse me while I wipe a tear from my eye and get some air.
Viva Klein Oak!
2) I was flunking Italian in my second semester (taken because CB told us the class was "great"). Hey, CB, you ended up dropping... What DID you take? Did you snake your way into Sign Language? I bet you did.. Anyway, we were flunking Italian in our second semester despite daily attendance and always doing our homework. A large part of the problem was that I kept slipping into the Spanish I had taken. And I was very distracted the first semester by a delightful pair of squirrels living in the oak tree outside the window.
3) I was going to take Finnish so I could surprise my grandmother, but that class was full. Terence said "there's lots of girls in Danish", and then I found out that Danish was "accelerated." You only needed two semesters of Danish rather than four of other languages. Of course you also met 6 hours a week for two semesters.
My instructor had a hearing problem, and I suspect he was usually hung over. But he also bought us booze. Good guy.
I only remember a few phrases from the class. I can:
a) order a cup of coffee (Jeg vil gerne hav en kappe kaffee)
b) order you to shove it "up your pipe" (I don't know how this is written, but I think it's: Op jig ruv hol)
c) solicit you for sex (Vil du kneppe med mig?)
Well, really, I think that could get me by in Denmark for about a month.
Overall, I didn't see Denmark as being a hostile place. They're the land of Hans Christian Andersen for God's sake. They all own pugs and think they have tiny trolls living in their teeth.
Monday, February 06, 2006
SuperBowl Weekend
Oh, The League should never be trusted to lay bets. Last night I boldly proclaimed that the Seattle Seahawks would win by less than 7.
The League was so very wrong.
Honestly, I didn't care who won, but I just thought the Seahawks were going to surprise people. Well, yes... they surprised me. Luckily I didn't have any money on it.
Ah, heck. I like Bettis. The Steelers are a fun team. Congrats.
That said, I also watched about 70% of PuppyBowl II (featuring the all-new Kitten Half-Time Show). Well, "watched" is a strong word. It was on while I was in the room. But it's hard to beat three hours of puppies playing. Even when you have your own puppy tearing up what was once a very pretty little backyard.
Anyhoo, congrats to the puppies of Puppy Bowl. Those kids are going places.
Oh, The League should never be trusted to lay bets. Last night I boldly proclaimed that the Seattle Seahawks would win by less than 7.
The League was so very wrong.
Honestly, I didn't care who won, but I just thought the Seahawks were going to surprise people. Well, yes... they surprised me. Luckily I didn't have any money on it.
Ah, heck. I like Bettis. The Steelers are a fun team. Congrats.
That said, I also watched about 70% of PuppyBowl II (featuring the all-new Kitten Half-Time Show). Well, "watched" is a strong word. It was on while I was in the room. But it's hard to beat three hours of puppies playing. Even when you have your own puppy tearing up what was once a very pretty little backyard.
Anyhoo, congrats to the puppies of Puppy Bowl. Those kids are going places.
Saturday, February 04, 2006
Just a quick note about something that happens alot in movies and TV:
Small people with a few quick punches or a fancy kick can't usually actually knock down really big dudes.
Look, The League is a fairly big dude. And every once in a while while watching TV or a movie I'll see a 98 pound girl try a karate kick at some big guy who, of course, is standing completely still. What should be noted is that big guys are used to having to slog themselves around. Their bodies aren't a complete surprise to them. Stuff bumps into us all the time.
This probably isn't what very tiny people want to hear, but if the big person is at all used to fighting, your fancy kick is, at best, going to slow down the Really Big Dude.
Further, just FYI, it is really, really hard in real life to flip a big guy who doesn't want to be flipped. How many of you out there think you can pick up a 250 pound sack of rocks and throw it over your shoulder? Yes, yes... You can use someone's momentum against them. But if that person is any sort of experienced fighter, and unless you're a much, much better fighter, the big guy can probably deduce what you're up to and lean the other way. And even if he does go forward, how likely do you think it is he isn't going to grab you and land on you, Bruce Lee?
Sometimes I really miss my days in TaeKwonDo. But one thing I really don't miss is when I would have to spar people 1/3rd my size. (1) I always had to be really, really careful with small people. Small people tend to sail through the air in a really unattractive fashion with a solid kick. Or, if you mistime a spinkick and hit them in the back (illegal in TKD) they tend to just sort of go down. And then you have to go talk to their millionaire husbands and make them understand that there's no money there if they were thinking of sueing. (2) Small people can be a lot faster and be a smaller target. With the rules of sparring being what they are, this works in small people's favor. It's just a grossly unrealistic way of looking at how a fight would end if it wasn't a judged tournament. (Of course, some people just see you across the mat and they get "the fear", believing you will, in fact, take their block off. The League once had a high school kid run out of the ring away from him. It was sad.)
Now, I'm not saying small people can't take out bigger people, becasue they can and they do. The League has had his ass handed to him by many people, not the least of which was his alarmingly nimble instructor. Also, although not small, Dan Peters is a lot faster than he looks.
I'm mostly just trying to do two things:
1) dispel the notion that a fancy kick you saw on TV is going to do much if you're small
2) dispel the idea that big guys will generally go down with a single pop any more than small people might
So what should tiny people know? The League is no master of self-defense, but here's what we think:
Run away. There's no shame in running. Violence never solved anything. Except for proving to the Russians that our blue collar American work ethic could overcome the commies' science-zombie super-soldier boxer in Rocky IV. Suck on that, Mother Russia.
Go for the face. If you do connect, you're hitting a nerve point in there somewhere. Ears are good, especially if you can get a grip and pull real hard. Eyes are mushy. Noses hit properly will blind for a few crucial seconds. Also, the throat (not the neck) is good, too. Punch it hard.
DO NOT GO FOR THE CROTCH (unless you know what you're doing). This is usually taught in self-defense class, and I guess maybe it will work, but... Most guys learned to duck a kick to the groin at age 5. Ask any guy. Trust me, any dude who is paying attention will turn to the side, you will miss and they will be very, very angry. (This is also a constant movie cliche of over-confident bad-guys. They always stand squarely facing the target and within knee's reach. This is silly).
Use what's on hand. Your body is soft and fleshy. When flesh hits flesh, it hurts slightly more than hitting someone with a beef-log (unwrapped). You will also hurt yourself if you connect with bone. Just so you know, keys jabbing into your ribs hurt really, really bad. Phones and remotes make excellent projectiles.
Be loud. Don't just scream, scream that you're being attacked. Scream specifics. If nothing works, scream that there's a fire. People will always come to check on a fire, just in case. And don't quit screaming.
Anyway, that's a really long post inspired by a really dumb fight scene I just watched.
Small people with a few quick punches or a fancy kick can't usually actually knock down really big dudes.
Look, The League is a fairly big dude. And every once in a while while watching TV or a movie I'll see a 98 pound girl try a karate kick at some big guy who, of course, is standing completely still. What should be noted is that big guys are used to having to slog themselves around. Their bodies aren't a complete surprise to them. Stuff bumps into us all the time.
This probably isn't what very tiny people want to hear, but if the big person is at all used to fighting, your fancy kick is, at best, going to slow down the Really Big Dude.
Further, just FYI, it is really, really hard in real life to flip a big guy who doesn't want to be flipped. How many of you out there think you can pick up a 250 pound sack of rocks and throw it over your shoulder? Yes, yes... You can use someone's momentum against them. But if that person is any sort of experienced fighter, and unless you're a much, much better fighter, the big guy can probably deduce what you're up to and lean the other way. And even if he does go forward, how likely do you think it is he isn't going to grab you and land on you, Bruce Lee?
Sometimes I really miss my days in TaeKwonDo. But one thing I really don't miss is when I would have to spar people 1/3rd my size. (1) I always had to be really, really careful with small people. Small people tend to sail through the air in a really unattractive fashion with a solid kick. Or, if you mistime a spinkick and hit them in the back (illegal in TKD) they tend to just sort of go down. And then you have to go talk to their millionaire husbands and make them understand that there's no money there if they were thinking of sueing. (2) Small people can be a lot faster and be a smaller target. With the rules of sparring being what they are, this works in small people's favor. It's just a grossly unrealistic way of looking at how a fight would end if it wasn't a judged tournament. (Of course, some people just see you across the mat and they get "the fear", believing you will, in fact, take their block off. The League once had a high school kid run out of the ring away from him. It was sad.)
Now, I'm not saying small people can't take out bigger people, becasue they can and they do. The League has had his ass handed to him by many people, not the least of which was his alarmingly nimble instructor. Also, although not small, Dan Peters is a lot faster than he looks.
I'm mostly just trying to do two things:
1) dispel the notion that a fancy kick you saw on TV is going to do much if you're small
2) dispel the idea that big guys will generally go down with a single pop any more than small people might
So what should tiny people know? The League is no master of self-defense, but here's what we think:
Run away. There's no shame in running. Violence never solved anything. Except for proving to the Russians that our blue collar American work ethic could overcome the commies' science-zombie super-soldier boxer in Rocky IV. Suck on that, Mother Russia.
Go for the face. If you do connect, you're hitting a nerve point in there somewhere. Ears are good, especially if you can get a grip and pull real hard. Eyes are mushy. Noses hit properly will blind for a few crucial seconds. Also, the throat (not the neck) is good, too. Punch it hard.
DO NOT GO FOR THE CROTCH (unless you know what you're doing). This is usually taught in self-defense class, and I guess maybe it will work, but... Most guys learned to duck a kick to the groin at age 5. Ask any guy. Trust me, any dude who is paying attention will turn to the side, you will miss and they will be very, very angry. (This is also a constant movie cliche of over-confident bad-guys. They always stand squarely facing the target and within knee's reach. This is silly).
Use what's on hand. Your body is soft and fleshy. When flesh hits flesh, it hurts slightly more than hitting someone with a beef-log (unwrapped). You will also hurt yourself if you connect with bone. Just so you know, keys jabbing into your ribs hurt really, really bad. Phones and remotes make excellent projectiles.
Be loud. Don't just scream, scream that you're being attacked. Scream specifics. If nothing works, scream that there's a fire. People will always come to check on a fire, just in case. And don't quit screaming.
Anyway, that's a really long post inspired by a really dumb fight scene I just watched.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
ooooohhhh
The UK ToyFair is on in, uh, the UK.
The ToyFair is an event at which toy makers set up in a convention center and buyers from stores decide what they will stock for the next year (to some extent).
Anyhoo, it's gotta be a fun sort of thing to go to. They do have one in the US, and it usually inspires quite a few "Toys That Should Not Be" postings.
To see what toy The League wants, go here.
Jamie will be sad to know that this item will probably only be available in the UK.
The UK ToyFair is on in, uh, the UK.
The ToyFair is an event at which toy makers set up in a convention center and buyers from stores decide what they will stock for the next year (to some extent).
Anyhoo, it's gotta be a fun sort of thing to go to. They do have one in the US, and it usually inspires quite a few "Toys That Should Not Be" postings.
To see what toy The League wants, go here.
Jamie will be sad to know that this item will probably only be available in the UK.
Jim D's Conversational Shorthand Meme
Recently Jim D. said the following:
I have noticed that I have begun to use a conversational shorthand when conversing with people with whom I will likely never see again.
And then said:
...In the mere exchange of conversational pleasantries, is it easier simply to allow the conversation to run its course without the unnecessary addition of too many details?
Read all of Jim's post here.
And then Distorted Veracity chimed in here.
I'm going to pick up on the theme and try and turn this into some sort of meme.
In his travels, Jim's walking through a world of anonymous faces, and maybe that's a bit of what he's doing in Beaumont. I don't know, and I would hate to speak for him.
Surely as much as he's limiting his conversations for expediency, there has to be some knowledge that anonymity has it's virtues, and getting too attached to a waitress at the diner or the cab driver from the hotel isn't going to go much of anywhere.
I think I've sort of been doing this with every single person I've met since I arrived in Arizona.
Sure, there are a few people I talk to regularly and in some detail, but I am aware that I go for weeks on end speaking with only my office mates, my local comic shop guy and Jamie. That's been the sum total of my social circle since my arrival in Phoenix. I can't recall the last time I stood in the yard and talked to my neighbor or the last time I had a conversation with someone that wasn't really somehow work related.
I guess what's bothering me as I head towards my fourth year in the desert is the knowledge that there's been a certain distance kept, as if I know I'm just passing through this place. Most of the staff knows Jamie's name and she's met most everybody at least once, although I suspect some of our newer folks aren't even sure I'm married. Aside from that, I'm not sure how much I've really offered up.
Maybe a few people know my political views. Some could tell you a movie or two I like. Some could venture a guess at a book I may have read. Maybe a few could even tell you around when I was in college. For the most part I'm not sure how much folks know about me. Admittedly, that's a two-way street. I'm sure in most offices you're just not that involved with one another no matter how many hours a week you spend sharing the same recycled air. And maybe I'm misreading all of this, and maybe these folks all know me better than I realize. Maybe it's me that's missing out on the details.
The endless condition of acquaintance is not something I'll miss one day when I put the Valley of the Sun in the rearview mirror. I'm tired of working friendships and conversations where I edit and edit and edit before I feel like I've watered down whatever it was I planned to say until it was safe for public consumption. And maybe I'm wrong and that wasn't what I had to do in the first place, but when you're just passing through, sometimes you want to leave as few ripples as possible.
Recently Jim D. said the following:
I have noticed that I have begun to use a conversational shorthand when conversing with people with whom I will likely never see again.
And then said:
...In the mere exchange of conversational pleasantries, is it easier simply to allow the conversation to run its course without the unnecessary addition of too many details?
Read all of Jim's post here.
And then Distorted Veracity chimed in here.
I'm going to pick up on the theme and try and turn this into some sort of meme.
In his travels, Jim's walking through a world of anonymous faces, and maybe that's a bit of what he's doing in Beaumont. I don't know, and I would hate to speak for him.
Surely as much as he's limiting his conversations for expediency, there has to be some knowledge that anonymity has it's virtues, and getting too attached to a waitress at the diner or the cab driver from the hotel isn't going to go much of anywhere.
I think I've sort of been doing this with every single person I've met since I arrived in Arizona.
Sure, there are a few people I talk to regularly and in some detail, but I am aware that I go for weeks on end speaking with only my office mates, my local comic shop guy and Jamie. That's been the sum total of my social circle since my arrival in Phoenix. I can't recall the last time I stood in the yard and talked to my neighbor or the last time I had a conversation with someone that wasn't really somehow work related.
I guess what's bothering me as I head towards my fourth year in the desert is the knowledge that there's been a certain distance kept, as if I know I'm just passing through this place. Most of the staff knows Jamie's name and she's met most everybody at least once, although I suspect some of our newer folks aren't even sure I'm married. Aside from that, I'm not sure how much I've really offered up.
Maybe a few people know my political views. Some could tell you a movie or two I like. Some could venture a guess at a book I may have read. Maybe a few could even tell you around when I was in college. For the most part I'm not sure how much folks know about me. Admittedly, that's a two-way street. I'm sure in most offices you're just not that involved with one another no matter how many hours a week you spend sharing the same recycled air. And maybe I'm misreading all of this, and maybe these folks all know me better than I realize. Maybe it's me that's missing out on the details.
The endless condition of acquaintance is not something I'll miss one day when I put the Valley of the Sun in the rearview mirror. I'm tired of working friendships and conversations where I edit and edit and edit before I feel like I've watered down whatever it was I planned to say until it was safe for public consumption. And maybe I'm wrong and that wasn't what I had to do in the first place, but when you're just passing through, sometimes you want to leave as few ripples as possible.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Huh.
This is why I am a firm supporter of the red velvet rope.
You know, when I was in high school a security guard at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts got pissy with me for supposedly standing too close to a painting. I'm not sure what the proper distance is supposed to be, but I was looking at the brush work on a 300 year-old oil painting, so I can understand them being a bit touchy.
Note I said "a bit touchy", not "GET AWAY FROM THE PAINTING!" touchy.
That said, I had my hands folded behind my back and was only leaning in slightly. i doubt I was even breathing on the picture.
To this day I prefer science museums. Nobody ever gets mad at you for looking too closely at a geode.
This is why I am a firm supporter of the red velvet rope.
You know, when I was in high school a security guard at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts got pissy with me for supposedly standing too close to a painting. I'm not sure what the proper distance is supposed to be, but I was looking at the brush work on a 300 year-old oil painting, so I can understand them being a bit touchy.
Note I said "a bit touchy", not "GET AWAY FROM THE PAINTING!" touchy.
That said, I had my hands folded behind my back and was only leaning in slightly. i doubt I was even breathing on the picture.
To this day I prefer science museums. Nobody ever gets mad at you for looking too closely at a geode.
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