To be able to say "Noggle," you first must be able to say "Nah."
I just ordered this:
Of course, being me living in Tornado Alley (and if not The Tornado Alley, then at least a South Tornado Court), I have only ordered this on a night where DOOM is predicted sometime after I go to bed.
If you don’t hear from me by tomorrow afternoon, well, it means I’m slow-blogging again.
But you might want to cruise by Nogglestead early Monday evening, just in case there’s a box with a free weather radio in it. Better for you, gentle reader, than just some rubbernecker.
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Yeah, I know.
But here, go look at some hot pictures of bookshelves.
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For my birthday, my beautiful wife gave me this:
The Complete Red Dwarf series on DVD. I watched these back when I recorded them off of KETC, the PBS station in St. Louis, when they came on after Doctor Who on Sunday nights, so when I was reminded of them for some reason or another, I put it on my Amazon wish list.
Now, the news is that this set will be incomplete very soon.
In November this year we start to record a new series of 6 episodes, presently titled Red Dwarf X. I’m not sure of the Broadcast dates but we finish recording them in early February 2012.
This rather complements the Christmas gift I received in the middle 1990s of the More Than Complete Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy before Douglas Adams was actually done milking the series.
Lesson learned: If you buy a collection of British humor marked “complete,” it is probably not.
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I have recently discovered that I suffer from Sudden Music Liking Syndrome.
This struck me today, as I heard the second song by The Who on the radio in two days (“Teenage Wasteland” today, “Won’t Get Fooled Again” yesterday) and decided, hey, maybe I ought to get an album by these guys.
I mean, for forty years almost, The Who has been part of the background soundscape. I’ve been listening to “classic rock” since it was called album-oriented rock and pretty much thought “meh” about The Who until sometime yesterday. I mean, these guys are so old they played during the Super Bowl halftime show in the 21st century, hey?
So where does the sudden “I like that” come from if not some psychological disorder that will be covered in DSM-VI?
Frankly, I lie awake in my own sweat that another outbreak will drive me to like Led Zeppelin.
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Behold, I have begun video blog posts for QA Hates You.
That was more fun putting together than another blog post about how our government, abetted by a random collection of 50.005% of voter turnout on winter and spring ballot dates, are continuing to crush individual citizens.
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Tomorrow, the only thing on my ballot is the Republic School Board election.
Of course, I will vote for Mark Craighead, the guy behind Crossbreed Holsters. The only way I would not if three other candidates were named Ruger, Wesson, and Winchester.
Actually, I do have some sort of madness to my method, or vice versa, in dealing with these down ticket races. Give me a couple minutes to whip something up for 24thState.com.
UPDATE: Here is that 24th State piece.
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Sorry for the light posting this week, but I had to replace an aerator.
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Earlier this year, I read Battlestar Galactica in hardback, so why not run through the paperback sequel in short order? So I did.
This does continue the season of reading repeats, as I also read this book in high school. This book covers the two-part “Gun on Ice Planet Zero” episode, where Apollo and Starbuck lead a team of convict mountaineers to an ice planet to disable a giant Cylon laser. I mean, what’s not in it for a fourteen-year-old to love? Giant lasers, a mismash of World War II film plots (although a fourteen-year-old in 1986 might not recognize this), and a young child who stows away and gets into danger that I can relate to? Well, all except the last: no matter how much the writers insist young people need that character, we never did.
It’s a good adaptation, which means it adds some depth to the events depicted on the screen and does not generally detract from the charaters and the established mythos (or at least what I imagined was the mythos). So it’s worth a read and maybe, 20 years later, a re-read. And it makes me want to watch the original series again, which I haven’t done in five years or so.
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Exchange incandescent bulbs for CFL bulbs April 16:
The Partnership for Sustainability is partnering with Harry Cooper Supply to offer a one-to-one compact fluorescent light bulb exchange on Saturday, April 16.
Families can bring up to five incandescent bulbs to trade for up to five CFL bulbs. Fifteen-watt CFLs are equivalent to 60-watt light bulbs, but use 75 percent less energy and last five times longer.
Except, of course, I’ll run it the other way.
I just replaced a dead 100-watt incandescent bulb in the floor lamp that provides illumination for my reading station with a 60-watt bulb in to prepare for the new Pelosi Dim Age, and I don’t mind telling you, it sucks. Since it’s a floor lamp, it’s what the greens might think of as a Confined Mercury Release Program, where the poor, innocent Hg raped from the bosom of Mother Gaia (don’t ask about the inconsistent metaphor. Consistency, the greens maintain, is a hobgoblin of little minds) is returned to the earth from which it sprung when someone or somecat knocks over the floor lamp containing a fluorescent bulb. So I’ll have to keep it stocked with incandescents as long as I can of diminishing yield until I am forced to read by candelight.
Man, I need incandescence. Even if I have to barter for it in the post-Obamalyptic world of 2014.
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April 5 does mark the fifth anniversary of Musings from Brian J. Noggle.
Thanks for reading.
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