Category: Life

About twenty-five years ago, stoplights with crosswalks had two signals specifically for pedestrians. These signals were a red DONT WALK [sic] which displayed solid when the light was read, indicating that the pedestrian should not cross the street and a green WALK that indicated the pedestrian could enter the intersection and probably make it across before the light turned red and cross traffic ground the pedestrian to lunch meat. A third state, akin to the yellow light, involved the DONT WALK symbol flashing, which meant that the light was going to change soon and you probably shouldn’t enter the intersection.

This system, imperfect as though it was, lasted decades. However, some bureaucrat wanted to do something to improve it since people were still dying occasionally in the streets.

So in the 1980s, the conversion from the DONT WALK and WALK paradigm began its shift to the current iconography. The hand replaced DONT WALK and a person walking right to left replaced WALK. This new system would save untold children, the illiterate, and the non-English speaking people who couldn’t understand the DONT WALK and WALK on the signs and who couldn’t puzzle out that crossing with the red light was inherently bad and crossing with the green light was probably safe.

No, our governments enacted expensive changes which required replacement of all crosswalk lights and retraining the young, yet-unnamed Generation X to the new system. To protect the children, the illiterate, and the non-English speaking, you see.

I guess this system isn’t working, either, and that the new iconography doesn’t immediately, universally connect with people and tell them what to do. So now, to protect children, the illiterate, and the non-English speaking who couldn’t handle the old DONT WALK/WALK system–or perhaps adults who can read English but not symbols, the government has come up with this solution:

After 25 years in which, I assume, pedestrians have continued to occasionally die in crosswalks, the government has added an instruction manual for the new symbols which, apparently, dead pedestrians couldn’t understand. Now the children, illiterate, and non-English speakers get 21 English words explaining the symbols and what they mean. Because the children, illiterate, and non-English speakers couldn’t, apparently, understand 3 English words or 2 symbols without the combination thereof.

It makes me wonder what lesson the governments will learn about pedestrians even after this program does not completely eliminate pedestrian deaths. Perhaps that these instructions are not clear and they need more elaborate details? A manual for understanding the helpful signs at the crosswalks? The sky is the limit, since apparently common sense and budget never will be.

The lottery numbers have been drawn in a city far from here, and I do not know the results. With these tickets I hold in my hand, I am simultaneously a millionaire and myself, the superposition of states, and I will only become one or the other when I check the numbers.

Be that as it may, I’m refraining from clicking the Place Bid link on eBay until I make the observation.

The story in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch has a headline that describes the hooliganism at a political event: Madison County political fundraiser leads to brawl.

The lead describes some of the mayhem:

A brawl erupted hours after a political fundraiser ended for Madison County Treasurer Fred Bathon when his son punched a prominent funeral home director, police said.

Jacob Bathon punched Mike Weber, owner of Weber Funeral Home, several times in the face at Rusty’s in Edwardsville, said Police Chief David Bopp.

The fight was sparked by Weber’s refusal to place a political sign supporting Fred Bathon outside his business, sources said today.

Never mind, gentle reader, this is a generic young political activist. It could have happened to anyone, much like the political activist adult children who slash tires on election day.

But if you must know, gentle reader, the last line of the Post-Dispatch story identifies, for trivia’s sake:

Fred Bathon is seeking re-election as county treasurer. He is being opposed by Republican Kurt Prenzler.

All indirectly-like, see? The parent of this political activist is opposed by a Republican.

Could be a Libertarian.

You have not played TI Invaders until you’ve played TI Invaders on the big screen:

On a side note, happy 25th birthday to the Texas Instruments TI 99/4a!

Back in the early 1991, I was a sophomore in college. I’d finally gotten a PC (we called them “clones” in those days) the year before, but I still had my Commodore 64 hooked up on the desk beside the PC, and I still hung out on C64 Bulletin Board Systems (BBSes). One, called the City of WISE (Waukesha Information System Exchange, as I recollect), I called every night (because in those days, you had to dial up with your modem to connect to a bulletin board system, and you often had to call late at night when you wouldn’t tie up the phone). I ran a trivia message board, and I even started a message board for a Call of Cthulhu game.

Someone else was going to run some sort of roleplaying game on a message board, and I signed up. But that gamemaster never showed. Instead, one of the other users (Brass Orchid, handle derived from a Samuel R. Delany book I still haven’t read) and I started riffing absurdly, playing somewhat to roleplaying game conventions. Eventually, Brass Orchid collected these messages and sent me a copy on disk to see if we could make some sort of story out of it.

Fast forward fifteen years to the present day, and I’m browsing TextFiles.com, a repository of text files from that era, and I get to thinking about The Forgotten Legacy (as the message board was called, undoubtedly some grand sweeping sword-and-sorcery campaign that we subverted to our own ends). So I Google Brass Orchid by his real name, and lo, there it is, on his Web site:

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

12/21/91; 12:43PM
From: Brass Orchid [3]

We could always play without him. All the GM 
does is provide structure and coherence to the game.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

12/21/91; 10:39PM
From: L. S. Creetor [62]

I'll take my bastard sword and stab the Ultimate 
Reality in the gut.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

12/22/91; 5:08AM
From: Brass Orchid [3]

The Ultimate Reality suffers 120 HP's damage and 
falls, semiconcious, to the ground, muttering, "That
Bastard sure knows how to hurt a guy."
L. S. Creetor collects 20 Exp. Points and finds
the Medallion of Adaptation.
Suddenly, the sky splits open and a stairway to
the stars appears. Branches off of the main stairway can
be seen, dwindling into the distance.
Your move...
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Suddenly, I’m nineteen years old again, connecting through LotusWorks, and casting spells I made up on the fly. I can see the wood paneling and smell the light must of my basement room, I can feel the keyboard in my lap (because that’s all we had for ergonomics, you damn kids–you could put your keyboard in your lap), and I played late into the night with my short stories, with my bulletin boards, and with simple games without 3D rendering. I had most of college and all of my life ahead of me, and I was as optimistic as a college Objectivist could be.

Crazy, the things you can find on the Internet. I am of the first generation that can find its youth.

UPDATE: Revised a sentence to make clear I looked for Brass Orchid elsewhere but TextFiles.com.

How hard can you expect a university to be when it’s URL is http://www.uwlax.edu/?

I hereby proclaim the first full week in September Capitalist Week.

It’s only fitting to be longer than Labor Day, since capitalism has done more for this country than organized labor.

That is correct, my Post Fetal Creature (PFC) is a freakin’ genius. He’s only six weeks old and he’s already talking. Well, he’s said his first word, anyway. That is correct, at only six weeks old, my heir said, quite clearly, “a.”

What, you noun-and-verb fetishists, an indefinite article isn’t good enough for a first word? No, you want “mommy” or “dada” or “absquatulate” before you’ll consider it a word.

You’re just jealous of my child’s obvious gifts.

Hitchhiker: You heard of this thing, the 8-Minute Abs?
Ted: Yeah, sure, 8-Minute Abs. Yeah, the excercise video.
Hitchhiker: Yeah, this is going to blow that right out of the water. Listen to this: 7… Minute… Abs.
Ted: Right. Yes. OK, all right. I see where you’re going.
Hitchhiker: Think about it. You walk into a video store, you see 8-Minute Abs sittin’ there, there’s 7-Minute Abs right beside it. Which one are you gonna pick, man?
Ted: I would go for the 7.
Hitchhiker: Bingo, man, bingo. 7-Minute Abs. And we guarantee just as good a workout as the 8-minute folk.
Ted: You guarantee it? That’s – how do you do that?
Hitchhiker: If you’re not happy with the first 7 minutes, we’re gonna send you the extra minute free. You see? That’s it. That’s our motto. That’s where we’re comin’ from. That’s from “A” to “B”.
Ted: That’s right. That’s – that’s good. That’s good. Unless, of course, somebody comes up with 6-Minute Abs. Then you’re in trouble, huh?
[Hitchhiker convulses]
Hitchhiker: No! No, no, not 6! I said 7. Nobody’s comin’ up with 6. Who works out in 6 minutes? You won’t even get your heart goin, not even a mouse on a wheel.
Ted: That – good point.
Hitchhiker: 7’s the key number here. Think about it. 7-Elevens. 7 doors. 7, man, that’s the number. 7 chipmunks twirlin’ on a branch, eatin’ lots of sunflowers on my uncle’s ranch. You know that old children’s tale from the sea. It’s like you’re dreamin’ about Gorgonzola cheese when it’s clearly Brie time, baby.

Well, it’s close.

I mean, who hasn’t seen the stray drops fall from the nipple as you try to align the bottle with the mouth of a squalling, squirming baby, striking his or her cheeks, chin, and lips….who hasn’t seen that and thought of tracer rounds?

To tuck or not to tuck that is the question

“Most men want to wear the accepted norm, and for years that used to be khaki pants, a tucked blue shirt and black belt,” explains Gregg Andrews, a fashion director at Nordstrom.

Now, he says the uniform is premium jeans and a striped button-down shirt that is untucked.

Not in my world, mister. Do some sit-ups, by a real holster for your concealed carry needs, and tuck it in.

It’s not waterboarding as interrogation; it’s yoga!

Be sure to click view the Windows Media Player video How to use a Neti Pot in the right sidebar, just in case they reinstate the draft and you’re assigned to Guantanamo Bay.

When in Rome, do as the Visigoths do.

UPDATE Oops. Oh, yeah, I completely, inadvertently, ripped off Mark Steyn. Now I feel like a real blogger, headed for scandal. And after I even sent it to Top Five’s Ruminations, too.

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Also, let me win the Powerball.

Some people see the Virgin Mary in foodstuffs. Not us; we’re patriots.

Well, no. Ajax isn’t too knowledgeable about baby furniture.

McDonalds Hugo-sized drink reminded me a lot of Hurricane Hugo, but what’s the problem? In a couple years, it won’t even be on the list of the top most damaging US Hurricanes, and it was almost 20 years ago. Before many of its target audience were born.

Drives me as mad as anything, that companies tack on service charges and other means of bleeding you after hooking you in with a low price or rate. Economists are making their theories, and Christopher Shea reviews.

Bottom line, it helps the savvy consumer by soaking most idiots.