At last, we have the perfect symbol for America under Bush. Nothing testifies to your pride in a country that is impossible to satirized anymore than fake plastic testicles painted in camouflage colors with a yellow “support the troops” ribbon that you can hang on your gas-guzzling SUV.
I swear, if I ever saw one of these on the freeway, it would be a traffic hazard because I’d be laughing and crying too hard to maintain proper control of my vehicle.
(via Jeffrey Rowland)
I’ve got to wash my underwear.
It’s a strange, weird world out there. I get hate mail all the time, but you know me — I’m mean and cruel and I don’t hesitate to pull out the sharp, sharp knives of unkind rhetoric. Other people get hate mail, too, and here’s one that made me laugh and laugh (which is also really mean, since I’m not the recipient.)
You people are going to ruin your little daughter and make her burn in hell like the two of you. You think you are clever and so does the devil. Only God has the answer for you. God or G. Bush.
That last line is a real laugh-getter — some people have problems distinguishing god from Bush, and I’m not talking about Moses — but there’s more. What did this horrible person and his child do to deserve such damnation? Is he a militant atheist? A commie pinko Kucinich supporter? I don’t know; maybe, but it’s not apparent from the blog. The blog has a theme.
It’s about vegan parenting.
Oh, man, when George W. Bush discovers that people actually post vegetarian recipes on a blog, he is probably going to send Chuck Norris over to kick their asses and slap ’em around with a side of beef. I’m just relieved that I’ve never posted my old recipe for miso soup here, or I’d really be in trouble — I’d be posting from Gitmo in between waterboarding sessions, or dodging lightning bolts from heaven.
We’re about to witness a monstrous event here on Scienceblogs.
Omnibrain: weird neuroscience from an inveterate smart-ass.
Retrospectacle: Parrots and hair cells with Shelley passing out the cookies.
Both are young graduate students in neuroscience, and both have decided to shut down their blogs…and
restart them as one freaky hybrid. They aren’t going away, they’re anastomosing.
There is one obstacle. They don’t know what to call this brand new twisted experiment in blogging, so they’re running a contest to name the new blog (they don’t mention it, but they’re also going to need a redesigned banner), and they’re giving away prizes for the best name: a free subscription to Seed, books, and a hodge-podge of other random science stuff.
I’m no good at the blog-naming biz — look at what I came up with for this one! — but all this talk of Shelley and Frankenstein brought to mind some obvious epithets: “abhorred monster”, “hideous progeny”, etc. I think they like their proposed merger, so those won’t do. So I searched on a full text version of Frankenstein and found the only place where the brain is mentioned in the whole book:*
To examine the causes of life, we must first have recourse to death. I became acquainted with the science of anatomy, but this was not sufficient; I must also observe the natural decay and corruption of the human body. In my education my father had taken the greatest precautions that my mind should he impressed with no supernatural horrors. I do not ever remember to have trembled at a tale of superstition or to have feared the apparition of a spirit. Darkness had no effect upon my fancy, and a churchyard was to me merely the receptacle of bodies deprived of life, which, from being the seat of beauty and strength, had become food for the worm. Now I was led to examine the cause and progress of this decay and forced to spend days and nights in vaults and charnel-houses. My attention was fixed upon every object the most insupportable to the delicacy of the human feelings. I saw how the fine form of man was degraded and wasted; I beheld the corruption of death succeed to the blooming cheek of life; I saw how the worm inherited the wonders of the eye and brain.
Maybe I’m just morbid, but I think “Food for the worm” is an excellent name for a blog.
Somehow, I don’t think I’ll win any prizes. You people better take over.
*By the way, the next chapter contains the account of the revivification of the monster. It’s not very dramatic — no lightning bolts, no creaking chains in an old castle, no grisly stitchery of corpses. Frankenstein just does it, leaving the method unexplained.
There might be crazy Christian ladies there!
Nah, I know there are crazy Christians there, but they’re mostly fairly cool…I haven’t seen any eruptions like this one.
A reader sent me an example of religious kitsch, but just to be on the safe side, I’m going to have to put it below the fold. There’s nothing obscene about the work in question, but I dare you to look at it and not have wildly inappropriate thoughts skitter through your brain.
I think we need a caption contest for this one.
Ken Cope, a regular commenter here (come on, you guys all know him) sent along some cephalopodian artwork a friend of his does. After browsing a bit, it was sinking in: Ken is friends with an animation artist and roller derby star, one who wins awards for most penalties in a season no less, and who paints toilet seats for fun. How cool is that?
And people think I’m strange…
If I’m ever in LA, you’re going to have to introduce me, Ken. I have fond memories of watching roller derby with my great-grandmother.
It’s safe, it’s harmless, it’s a good way to vent: Faith Fighter! Pick your favorite deity and pound the space bar until your enemies are unconscious.
When you look at the list of opponents, you might wonder why atheism is not represented. That’s because atheism is the real world matrix upon which the religious fantasies are exercised — therefore, the godless parts are the computers and networks upon which it is played. (Yeah, I know, way too much philosophy for a mindless kick-punch game.)
It’s still only a just-so story for the fascination some people have for LOLcats.
I think this demands an experiment — we need to do something involving knives and laserbeams to the people who produce those ubiquitous images.
The video clip below is from a game called Noah’s Adventures. It’s awful—Noah sounds like a drunk with brain damage, the graphics look like a preschooler tried fingerpainting with his feces, and the whole plot is ridiculous.
Now here’s the question: is this the work of a sincere creationist, or is this the product of the evil atheist conspiracy, made with the intent of making creationists look like talentless, tasteless hacks? I can’t tell.
