It Slices! It Dices!

The media buzz surrounding the new Apple iPhone and all the wonderful, fantabulous things it can do reminded me of a link Dr. Joe sent me some years ago. I relink to it here--yes, it's in Danish, but you don't need to understand the narration to find it very funny, and not half reminiscent of the PR for the iPhone.

Oh, and Saratoga Springs' own John McPherson presents his wry take on the iPhone in his very funny "Close to Home" comic strip. (If this link brings up a newer strip, scroll back to August 2.)

Persona Non Grata

Interesting--all the Ingmar Bergman movies I had added to my Netflix queue now say "Short Wait" in the Availability column. Doh! Fortunately, I own Wild Strawberries and The Seventh Seal. (I had a vision the other night that Death appeared and challenged me to a game of pinochle. I've got to stop watching movies after eating a 16-piece of buffalo wings.)

Tellingly perhaps, all the Antonioni movies in my queue are available "Now." Some directors just don't have the same cachet as others...

IM the Eggman

Goo goo goo joob.

Anyway, head on over to The Industry Measure blog one of these days for a shameless plug for the latest issue of How magazine, which features a round-up of visions of "the future of design"-- for which they asked me to contribute. There is also comment on a printing technology that is just plain nuts, as well as a study out of Australia that implies that you should keep a canary around your laser printer.

By the way, I also contribute fortnightly to Reed Business' Expert Business Source blog, where Heidi Tolliver-Nigro and I take turns rabbiting on about marketing--she about print, me about things other than print. My latest post is here, for the morbidly curious.

As if that weren't enough, when goaded sufficiently by Clifton Park's own Joel Friedman, I also contribute (but not as often as he would like) to the Xinet Users Group (XUG, which would make a great name for an evil alien) blog (but then so would "Blog"). I take on the recent Adobe/printing industry silliness here.

That should be enough reading material for now. I am off to Montreal for the weekend and shall not be blogging in any way, shape, or form.

Baby Got Bactine

Every time I do yardwork--or any kind of work around the house, really--I am reminded of Lady Macbeth's line: "Who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?" From now on, I am wearing chain mail whenever I use the weed whacker.

On the plus side, my day lilies bloomed, so I guess everything I touch I don't destroy...

Toys for Tots

Ah, if only I knew Japanese, as I would love to have (or give as a gift to the niece--it's even odds at this point) a stuffed Anomalocaris.
For those not in the know, Anomalocaris is one of the extinct creatures whose fossils were found in the Burgess Shale in 1909 (but the fossils were reexamined in the 1980s, leading to our current understanding of these critters). Anomalocaris was part of the Cambrian explosion, or massive diversification of creatures--mostly early arthopods--that took place starting around 580 million years ago. The discovery of these fossils and a look at the bizarre organisms that left them are the subjects of Stephen Jay Gould's excellent 1990 book Wonderful Life, one of my favorite books of all time.

How about a stuffed Hallucigenia or Wiwaxia? I think a whole set of plushie Burgess Shale creatures is in order.

Then again, flipping through Wonderful Life, which I haven't read in years, while writing this post, I swear I saw some of these creatures in my bathroom the other night. Maybe I should have held off on the Raid.

Death of Cinema

Jeepers--great Italian film director Michaelangelo Antonioni has died on the same day as great Swedish director Ingmar Bergman.

Sorry, Mike, my DVD player is still backlogged with Bergman films right now. You'll have to wait until next week for your retrospective....

Guess it's a good thing Kurosawa and Fellini are already dead. Hmm... Anyone heard from Jean-Luc Godard lately?

Walk This Way

I like to walk. Always have. There's nothing I hate more than having to drive places. Aside from a couple of junkers I had in high school, I didn't even really own a car until I was 30 (the old joke being that no one in New York City has a car because there's too much traffic), and even when I lived in L.A. (Torrance, actually), it was surprisingly pedestrian-friendly (aside from the time the carload of nuns ran a red left-turn arrow and almost ran me over--how I wish I were making that up!) and I did walk most places I needed to go.

Unfortunately, living out here in the 'burbs of Upstate New York means that walking is next to impossible. And it's not even that things are especially distant (my range is about 2.5-3.0 miles); it's that there are no sidewalks, crosswalks, walk/don't walk signs, or anything that would make surburban walking even remotely convenient. Downtown would be doable on foot--if it were physically possible to get from Point A to Point B without caroming off someone's hood and ending up in a bloody heap in Point C. Because, let's face it, people drive like idiots. (For proof, just wait at the bus stop in downtown Saratoga and watch the carnage.)

Lots of folks are in the same boat--and here is an interesting site called WalkScore that rates the walkability to a variety of nearby attractions or businesses from a given address. As I would expect, my address yielded a 31 out of 100. There are some interesting things from the list of nearby attractions. The first is that Reel Meals (a dinner-and-a-movie place that was pretty unsatisfactory for either) is out of business, and I've never heard of Excellent Adventure bookstore. And why Espey Manufacturing is listed under "Library" is beyond me.

On a related note, I was very happy that the CDTA (Capital District Transportation Authority) expanded its bus service to downtown Saratoga from near where I live. The nearest bus stop, as it turns out, is a scant 0.8 miles from my house, the fare is $1, and it runs every hour. I have taken it several times (the service started in early July) and it's a great way to get into Saratoga without having to drive around forever looking for non-existent parking--especially now that the racetrack is open, traffic is insanity, and the last vestiges of civilization have disappeared from this town. It also means I can save on gas, and not have to order Diet Pepsi in a bar--added bonuses.

Waiting at the bus stop is interesting, though; people driving by--literally to a man or woman (aside from those on cellphones who are oblivious to anything anyway)--look at me as if I had had Rosey Grier and Ray Milland heads grafted on. Is the idea of public transort so foreign to hardcore suburbanites? All I can say is, "Tough." And, heck, I'd rather spend money on beer than gas any day.

Checkmate

No smiles this summer night...

Master filmmaker Ingmar Bergman, one of the greatest artists in cinema history, died today at his home on an island off the coast of Sweden. He was 89.

Bergman's dozens of works combined deep seriousness, indelible imagery and unexpected flashes of humor in finely written, inventively shot explorations of difficult subjects such as plague and madness.

Watching the Dark

Derek L., the Saratoga Film Forum's illustrious managing director (and the hardest working man in show business), told me about a British comedy series called Garth Marenghi's Darkplace, saying it "was right up my alley." (People are always tellng me things like this, and all I can say is I'm not sure I want to be in that alley alone at night. Or during the day, for that matter.)

Anyway, the program(me) aired a few years ago on the UK's Channel 4, and all six episodes are available online here (or on DVD, but Region 2 only--doh!).

The premise of the show is this: It's a mock retrospective hosted by (fictional) horror writer/egomaniac Garth Marenghi, who is hung up on his own purported genius. ("My books are essentially 'what ifs.' In my book 'Black Fang,' what if a rat could drive a bus? And what if it and its rat brethren took over and ate Parliament?")

He introduces the "reairing" of a (fictional) horror show he wrote, produced, and starred in in the 1980s set in a haunted hospital. He and other cast and crewmembers reminisce about the show--oblivious to the fact the show was staggeringly bad. The acting is atrocious, the dialogue is badly written, the overdubbing is horrible, and the special effects make Mystery Science Theater 3000 look like the last Star Wars movie. The thing is, though, it so accurately captures the feel of 1980s television, from the sets, to the hair, to the cheeseball music, to...everything. It is two parts Twilight Zone, three parts Buffy the Vampire Slayer, one part ER, and five parts The A Team. (Yes, I am aware that only one of those shows was actually from the 1980s.) It is absolutely hysterical. Episode Two is pure art.

Sadly, only the first three episodes on Google Video were digitized from the original Channel 4 broadcasts; the last three episodes were from a SciFi Channel broadcast--meaning the occasional bad language was bleeped and two minutes were cut out to make room for crappy commercials for shite I wouldn't want to buy anyway. Oh, and of course, the bit of the show that runs under the end credits was squished and rendered invisible so they could promote other crappy SciFi Channel shows. (Basically all the things that make American television really annoying.) I gotta find a hack for Region 2 DVDs...

"The Lord moves in mysterious ways...sometimes he comes in at an angle, or just hovers."

"I ran the only way I knew how...by putting one leg in front of the other in rapid succession."

"Often the shows were at least three minutes short, so any scene that didn't have dialogue was run in slow motion."

"Understood?" "As crystal."

It's pure brilliance.

Memo to Myself

Do the dumb things I gotta do

Touch the puppet head.

Cat Scratch Fever

Do you have a cat? Do you think it has too much dignity? Do you wish to psychologically torture your cat? Well, then, the folks at Hello Kitty have got just the thing--bib, collar, and carrying bag to abase and humilate your poor kitty.
If I remember the cats I had when I lived at home, it wouldn't be so much "Hello Kitty" as "Hello Flesh Wounds."

With Six You Get Maalox

From Japan, oddly enough, comes what I would initially think of as the quintessential--and most revolting--American meal:

Pizza Hut Japan's exclusive Double Roll pie is 646 calories per slice, with little bacon wrapped sausages littered across the crust, and mini hamburger patties on top of the mushrooms, soy beans, corn, paprika, garlic chips, green peppers, and pepperoni. As for cheese, it has mozzarella, cheddar and parmigiana. BTW, this comes with ketchup and maple syrup for extra flavor, and is recommended for kids.

Well, recommended, I suppose, for kids you don't particularly like. (It's the "bacon-wrapped sausages" that make it art.) I think the only thing more appetizing would be a big stick of deep-fried butter, or perhaps a personal feeding trough containing the entire contents of a Las Vegas hotel buffet.

Up in Arms

Via Pharyngula, a sacrilege, to be sure: Octopus Faith, or using an octopus as a metaphor for religious faith. As an octopus fancier, I am deeply offended. Now, if it had been the actual deification of an octopus, I could go for that.

Two things strike me about that site: a) octopuses do not have tentacles, they have arms, and b) that woman looks like a deranged Chuckie.

Acorny Joke?

This can't possibly be true. Says the Iranian newspaper Resalat, via the BBC, via the Washington Post):

"A few weeks ago, 14 squirrels equipped with espionage systems of foreign intelligence services were captured by [Iranian] intelligence forces along the country's borders. These trained squirrels, each of which weighed just over 700 grams, were released on the borders of the country for intelligence and espionage purposes. According to the announcement made by Iranian intelligence officials, alert police officials caught these squirrels before they could carry out any task."

There wasn't a moose accompanying any of those squirrels, was there?

How on earth do you train a squirrel? They can't even figure out not to dart out in front of moving cars.

Then again, when I lived in my first apartment in Saratoga, the phone abruptly went out one day and Verizon came and told me that a squirrel had bitten through the outside phone line. So maybe we shouldn't underestimate the power of the squirrel! Or Verizon should stop using acorn-flavored cable insulation. I was also told that they occasionally bite through electrical wires, too. Not very bright; but I do keep a row of barbecue grills lined up beneath my electrical wires, just in case. Here's a serving hint for fricasseed squirrel--leaving the tail on makes for an attractive presentation.

Ice Ice Baby

Are you frail and waiflike? Is putting your hand in a cooler full of ice akin to putting it in a big urn of liquid nitrogen? Now you can ensure that your oh-so-delicate fingers do not freeze and snap off with the silly Arctic Net Cooler Scoop.

There's a Sucker Born Every Minute

I bet you this octopus won't even get a cut of the loot, or even an academic position:

The extraordinary discovery on what was for 58-year-old Mr Kim another 'day at the office' began when he took his small boat out from the town of Taean, 60 miles south west of Seoul. As usual, he was hoping for a good catch of webfoot octopus, which are a delicacy in Korea.
...
Casting out a long line, he felt a familiar tug and hauled up his first octopus of the day. He was puzzled by several blue objects attached to its suckers and thought at first they were shells.

But when he examined them, he realised they were pieces of pottery. Not realising he was on the point of making an incredible discovery, he cast out his line again and again, bringing in more octopus with shards of pottery attached.

Then he brought one up with a whole plate caught on its tentacles.

By now, Mr Kim realised that there had to be something important deep below. He had heard that divers had found several shipwrecks filled with relics, including ancient pottery, along the coast.
...
'We arranged for an urgent exploration of the sea bed and although we did not find a ship down there, we were able to find 30 12th century bowls.

'It seems that a ship carrying Koryo pottery was wrecked there and what excites us is that these pieces are perfect examples of beautiful Koryo pottery. A large number of kilns were established in the area and the ship must have been transporting the pieces when it went down.

'Although other ships have been found and pottery recovered, this is the first time a family of octopus have found a wreck for us.'
...
[T]he chance discovery is being hailed as one of the great undersea treasure discoveries of modern times.

Bat Boy, R.I.P.

Ah, truly a sad moment: an American institution is shutting its doors:

Weekly World News Shutting Down

While it isn't strictly a genre publication, and it does bill itself as "The World's Only Reliable Newspaper," the editor has decided that this announcement does fall within SFScope's purview:

American Media has decided to suspend publication of Weekly World News, both the print publication and the web site. No reason was given at press time, although reliable sources do tell us that management turned down at least one offer to buy the publication.

The weekly supermarket tabloid—known as the home of "Bat Boy" and other less-than-probable stories—has long had staffing connections with the science fiction, fantasy, and horror fields.

Ah, going to the supermarket will never be the same! After all, the Weekly World News was Photoshopping pictures long before there was a Photoshop. The 1990 cover with George Bush walking with the space alien was priceless.

I always liked WWN columnist Ed Anger, who was always incoherently "pig-biting mad" about something, usually liberals. I guess in this age of talk radio and Fox News, poor Ed just can't compete. (Good for the pigs, I guess.)

There was, believe it or not, a Weekly World News TV show for a very short period of time in the late 1990s (I think). It had potential, but could not live up to the print edition.

Gigantic

A new They Might Be Giants album is always a reason to celebrate, and The Else, which came out two weeks ago, has scarcely left my iPod/CD player.

I first discovered They in 1986, when a high school friend of mine bought their debut album (on vinyl), hated it, and gave it to me. I confess, it was about a year before I actually listened to it, and when I did it was only because I was in a friend's car in Syracuse and there was this cool song on the tape deck with the line "All the people are so happy now/They're heads are caving in." I asked what it was, was told it was They Might Be Giants, and realized to my slight embarrassment that I actually owned it. Naturally, when I got back to the apartment, I dug out the record, put it on, and discovered, hey!, I really liked it.

Their second album Lincoln came out in 1988--which I picked up on vinyl, as well--and I thought it a disappointment at the time, but liked a lot on it.

So I have followed Their career eagerly ever since. They were based in Brooklyn, so when I lived in NYC there were many opportunities to see Them live, and They often did free concerts in Central Park or Prospect Park, so I saw Them a half dozen or so times between 1990 and 1996. I last saw Them live in 1998 when They played at the House of Blues in West Hollywood.

They intially started out as just two guys named John--a guitarist and an accordionist/keyboardist/tuba-ist, etc.--who played to a drum machine (an early song was called "Rhythm Section Want Ad"). They also had the ability to absorb, replicate, and mutate a bewildering variety of musical styles, extremely odd instrumentation (friends of mine and I used to si around listening to their records and playing "name that instrument"), and clever, surreal, and downright funny lyrics. One very early song was based on an odd hyphenation one of them discovered on the back of a Bob Dylan album, and thus was born the saga of Mr. Tambo and Urine Man. That's the kind of thing They do.

In 1994, they added an actual backing band, which cut down on the idiosyncrasy a bit, but they have gradually learned how to combine the best aspects of working with an organic, live band and the "musical pop culture in a blender" approach of their earlier material.

My favorite TMBG track? A song called "I Can Hear You," recorded at the Edison Laboratory on an original wax cylinder, and is a litany of modern communications devices (airplane phones, apartment intercoms, fast food drive-through windows, etc.) that sound no better than Edison wax cylinders (it was recorded before thw advent of the cellphone). Absolutely brilliant. It's on 1996's Factory Showroom if you want to find it.

I sort of lost track of Them for a while as they delved into making children's records (which, as it turns out, aren't that far removed from their proper albums).

The Else is their first "real" album since 2004's somewhat disappointing The Spine, but it is a better record. It starts off slow (the first few tracks are a tad dull), but the album gets better as it goes on and gets stranger. "The Shadow Government" marks the beginning of the good stuff, and the convoluted wordplay and odd instrumentation of "Bee of the Bird of the Moth" is classic TMBG. By the time "The Mesopotamians" comes on (with its singalong chorus of "Sargon, Hammurabi, Ashurbanipal, and Gilgamesh!") you're with them all the way. (These are also the same guys who wrote a song documenting the James K. Polk administration, a celebration of Belgium's famous painter James Ensor ("he lived with his mother and the torments of Christ"), a catchy scientific treatise about mammals, a a botany lesson all about conifers.

Anyway, the best of the new album is the bonus disc of podcasts (a 21st century version of their old Dial-a-Song answering machine service), which contains the weirder (and better) stuff. Highly recommended.

The Hunting (and Gathering) of the Snark

This is one of those lines that that just cry out for a snarky, sarcastic comment:

Domino's Pizza credited its investment in IT for significant sales and profit gains for the first half of 2007.

That must be the explanation, because it certainly isn't their pizza, which is pretty inedible.

Giant Sun

It's the weekend, and before you go frolic in the sun, here are They Might Be Giants singing about the sun, performing their rendition of the 1950s science class favorite "Why Does the Sun Shine?" taped, appropriately enough, at Mohegan Sun in July 2006.