To be able to say "Noggle," you first must be able to say "Nah."
To quote a fellow award-winning blogger, THE REAL HONOR IS BEING NOMINATED, but it’s nice to be number one on the Google search for a website that has werd freaky things on it.
Thanks, searcher, but do remember to offset the aside with commas and make Web site two words: a Web site that has, werd, freaky things on it.
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Keyless entry, OnStar, and so on and so forth. You saw convenience, and I saw it coming:
High-tech thieves are becoming increasingly savvy when it comes to stealing automobiles equipped with keyless entry and ignition systems. While many computer-based security systems on automobiles require some type of key — mechanical or otherwise — to start the engine, so-called ‘keyless’ setups require only the presence of a key fob to start the engine.
Of course, you know me; I thought that the keyed ignition system was inviting danger and a step back from cranking the engine.
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An unsolicited greeting from the first company my mortgage broker could sell my name to:
Our records indicate you are not participating in our recommended MORTGAGE PROTECTION COVERAGE. You may now be eligible if you are UNDER AGE 76.
The ECONOMICAL term life insurance can PAY OFF YOUR MORTGAGE should you or your spouse DIE. It provides the SECURITY YOUR FAMILY NEEDS at the PRICE YOU WANT.
Well, if I DIE, I think normal insurances WOULD help my spouse PAY HER MORTGAGE (since, by dying, it would really no longer be my mortgage, would it?), and even if I were inclined to UP MY COVERAGE, I would probably look for a REPUTABLE INSURANCE COMPANY and not some fly-by-bulk-mail OPERATOR who probably won’t even EXIST by the time I die (hopefully sometime in the twenty-second century, the later the better) and who interrupts my daily junk mail destruction with UNSOLICITED REMINDERS OF MY OWN MORALITY, IN BOLD AND CAPITALS AS APPROPRIATE.
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After blowing $26,000,000 on a software system it won’t even use, the executive vice president of the University of Wisconsin system offers a mea culpa. Or the bureaucratic, non mea culpa equivalent:
“We’re very sheepish,” Mash told the state Assembly Committee on Colleges and Universities. “We couldn’t make this work. We’ve got to dig ourselves out of this hole.”
Dig themselves out of the hole? What the heck does that mean in the public sector? Oh, yeah, it means you’ll have to get more tax money to cover your mistakes.
In the real world, this fellow and/or one or two of his ill-informed cohorts would be out of jobs. But in the rarefied world of the public sector, no doubt a little sheepishness and an expression of desire to dig one’s self out of a hole will save him.
And maybe even make available another $26,000,000 in budget to spend.
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To join all the cool non-for-profits and organizations now trying to stake their claim on the public consciousness, public health funding, and class action settlement dollars, Musings from Brian J. Noggle joins the fight against obesity, wherein obesity is any shape to your body that does not come from a starving, distended belly by offering the following appetite suppressant as a public service announcement:
That’ll make you put down the bag of Doritos, eh, chubby?
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Just because the number 8 Edmonton Oilers eliminated the Detroit Red Wings in the first round of the playoffs is a little early to start stocking up the celebratory fireworks:
On Friday cops found a 1-Teck 9 fully automatic nine-millimetre handgun, an SKS assault rifle and a rocket launcher.
On Sunday, they also seized two handguns, a shotgun, 1.4 kg of cocaine, six vials of steroids, four grams of marijuana with a street value of $60, a samurai sword and one bulletproof vest.
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Groovin’, as in “When the Sun Goes Down“:
’cause when the sun goes down
we’ll be groovin’
when the sun goes down
we’ll be feelin’ alright
Kenny Chesney, you used to be a cowboy. Why, you once stole a horse from the Law. But the beachfront property addled your brain, and suddenly you’re sounding like something out of a 50s sock hop….granted, one where you’ve snuck in some booze, but come on, groovin’?
Exception to the Rule: I guess you can talk about groovin’ if and only if you’re singing about a plunge router, perhaps in a song entitled "If I Could, I Wood" about being briefly lonely when your woman tells you to choose between her and your sweet basement workshop.
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Weber and Dolan, RIP:
Milwaukee radio veteran Jay Weber, longtime co-host of “Weber & Dolan,” has been selected to host his own program, beginning Monday, May 8.
Weber’s new program, The Jay Weber Show, will be heard weekday mornings from 8:30 a.m. until 12 p.m., in the slot now occupied by “Weber & Dolan.”
Bob Dolan, Weber’s partner on News/Talk 1130 WISN for the past seven-and-a-half years, asked for and received permission from the station to withdraw from his on-air duties, in order to spend all of his time managing and performing within Dolan Productions LLC, a television production company that he recently formed.
Frankly, I have feared this coming since the move. Well, actually, I’ve feared it every time that their contract has come up for renewal. I’ve listened to Weber and Dolan since its inception, accidentally.
I caught it first in probably 2000. I was toiling away in a dark computer testing lab by myself and spent the days dialing around the Internet, looking for something to listen to. I lit upon WISN as a voice of home and enjoyed Weber and Dolan before Dr. Laura in the mornings.
Man, I’ve listened to them for a long time. I’ve listened to them with five different employers–DRA, MetaMatrix, Tripos, Jeracor, and infuz. I’ve listened to them through a series of streaming audio providers and their individual foibles and incompatibilities. I’ve listened, and laughed, through sundry Packer seasons. Tragic as it sounds, when I worked from home, I would often comment to my wife about what Weber and Dolan had talked about that day as though they were co-workers.
But they’re breaking up, finally. I guess all good things must pass. Like childhood stars who’ve passed through cuteness and puberty, I guess these fellows need to expand their repertoire before they’re typecast. Okay, I understand. But it saddens me still.
I probably won’t listen to the Jay Weber Show. Part of the draw of the pair was their counterpoints to each other. Jay could be a bit curt and arrogant, but Bob tempered it with his laid-back nature and old-fashionedness. I wish both the best of luck, but I guess it’s iTunes for me in the mornings now.
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I bought this book for $1.00 off of the extreme remainder table at Barnes and Noble in Ladue while engaging in a gift-card-fueled orgy of new book buying at the beginning of the year. $1! For a trade paperback! With this profligate spending, it’s a wonder I could buy a new, larger house to contain all of my books.
This book, subtitled The Twelve Bastard Bosses of the Zodiac, appears as a sequel of sorts to a previous book entitled How to Spot a Bastard by His Star Sign. It does the normal office humor bit, identifying various poor management types as cardboard personalities and then associating them with a sign of the zodiac. It’s a conceit that could have carried a ninety or a hundred page book, tops. However, the schtick goes on twice as long as it needed to, and overall suffers as a result.
One of the authors must be British and the other American; the book uses a lot of British turns of phrase (bum, arse, and so on) but a large number of American pop cultural references. Perhaps those were dropped in for this, the first American Edition. It didn’t really impact the quality of the material, but it was noticeable.
Also, I’d like you to know, I don’t share many characteristics with the Pisces bastard boss identified in the book. That doesn’t mean I’m not a bastard boss, only that my bastardism is self-determined, free will-like, and not predetermined by the universe. Thank you, that is all.
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Maybe Google wants to become the next Netscape: New Microsoft Browser Raises Google’s Hackles:
With a $10 billion advertising market at stake, Google, the fast-rising Internet star, is raising objections to the way that it says Microsoft, the incumbent powerhouse of computing, is wielding control over Internet searching in its new Web browser.
Google, which only recently began beefing up its lobbying efforts in Washington, says it expressed concerns about competition in the Web search business in recent talks with the Justice Department and the European Commission, both of which have brought previous antitrust actions against Microsoft.
The new browser includes a search box in the upper-right corner that is typically set up to send users to Microsoft’s MSN search service. Google contends that this puts Microsoft in a position to unfairly grab Web traffic and advertising dollars from its competitors.
How come Google hasn’t complained that all Gecko browsers, such as Mozilla, Firefox, and Netscape come standard with Google cued up in the unavoidable search bar? Oh, right, because this little tweak benefits Google.
Remember the last time some pioneering Internet company turned away from innovation and tried to protect its market share in Washington?
Neither, apparently, does Google.
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Makin’ it shake, as in "Boot Scootin’ Boogie":
I see outlaws, inlaws crooks & straights all out makin’ it shake
Doin’ the boot scootin’ boogie
Ronnie, it’s okay to adopt a musical persona that’s from KC, but it is not appropriate to channel KC and the Sunshine Band. Boogie’s bad enough, but the graphic depiction of what happens during a boogie is too much.
Exception to the Rule: It’s okay to make it shake so long as you’re performing some act of violence upon it, such as grabbing a grizzly by the throat and throttling it vigorously.
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Sometimes, I take a long time to select which book to read next after I complete a book. I look at my bookshelves bulging with choices and, quite frankly, am overwhelmed with the possible selections. Sometimes, though, the books leap off of the shelf in a meaningful segue. Of course, immediately after reading The Case Against Hillary Clinton, I picked up The Stainless Steel Rat for President.
Like The Case Against Hillary Clinton, I bought this book from the red dot, three for a dollar shelves outside Hooked on Books, but I didn’t buy the two on the same visit.
I’ve tried to read The Stainless Steel Rat for President on at least one other occasion, but its tour-de-farce tone didn’t draw me in, and I moved onto other things.
This time, though, the over-the-top voice and the story of how the intergalactic criminal and undercover operative known as the Stainless Steel Rat ventures to a banana republic of a planet whose thriving tourism industry funds a repressive dictatorship. Penned in 1982, it offers a fable of a criminal fixing an election to free a backward, galactically latino people. If I wanted to, I guess I could dig out some sort of political posturing of the time and a backlash or support of Reagan, but wow, it would take some effort. I vaguely remember when one could read politically-based fiction without trying to determine whose side the author is on.
Regardless, it’s an entertaining read, clocking in at the old school under 200 page mark. An entry into a series, but not a chronological or particularly serialized series, so you can enjoy it if it’s your first Stainless Steel Rat book or if you haven’t read a Stainless Steel Rat book in a decade. In short, it’s good old school science fiction. Well worth my thirty-three and a third cents.
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Jimmy Buffett, as in "It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere“:
At a moment like this, I can’t help but wonder,
What would Jimmy Buffett do?
Alan Jackson committed this particular travesty. For the love of Pete, Jackson, do you see Hank Williams or Willie Nelson or Merle Haggard or Waylon Jennings or Johhny Cash drinking freaking hurricanes? You’re treading a fine line here trying to work into some beach cowboy territory. I know the kids are all into it these days, but come on. A country duet that involves Jimmy Buffett? What’s next, the Wiggles?
Exception to the Rule: You may refer to a Jimmy buffet if you’re eating in the back of your old GMC SUV.
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I bought this book for $.33 at Hooked on Books in Springfield, Missouri, because I think I like Noonan (everyone else on the right side of the blogosphere does) and because it was on the three for a dollar rack. I expected a partisan book, and I got it.
Noonan wrote the book in 2000 to dissuade New Yorkers from voting Hillary Clinton into the Senate. We all know how that turned out, and it didn’t quite play out like Noonan feared it might–Hillary! never beat Giuliani, for example. Noonan spends a lot of the book bashing the Clintons for the crimes and malfeasance of the Clinton presidency, but I’ll be frank, I have sort of moved beyond my distaste for Clinton and that particular circus. So most of the book doesn’t work on me, particularly the parts where Noonan pads chapters with anecdotes about friends who are New York voters and who might be tempted to vote for Hillary or where Noonan pads the book with dream sequence chapters where Bobby didn’t die….I mean, where Hillary gives phantom speeches and takes Republicanish stands.
So I could almost walk away from the book without any particular additional dislike of Hillary, but for an chapter wherein Noonan accidentally provides actual evidence for why Hillary should scare us. It’s a chapter on Hillary’s views on the rights of children, wherein they should have the same rights as their parents in their upbringing, and where the state will further intrude on behalf of destroying actual families whenever the angelic little demons have temper tantrums. Scary stuff, reminding us that when it takes a villiage, HRC means it takes The State.
So I’ve made my commitment here. If the Democrats inadvertantly nominate Her Royal Clintoness to run for president, I will support and volunteer to elect anyone the Republicans nominate. Even, Heaven forfend, Mitt “RomneyCare Ain’t HillaryCare Because I Am A Republican, Sorta” Romney.
Very far afield from what Noonan intended, but in line for what she might have dreaded.
Interesting note about the particular book I bought: I think it was material for some course or another. A half sheet of paper contained a list of books in a political vein:
Quite a reading list there. Previous owner left the half sheet about half way through the final chapter of the book. Now that, my friends, is going through the motions: not bothering to finish the book when you’ve only got a few pages left. Even in my college days, I’d finish the book or I’d leave it on my to-read shelf for decades until I did actually finish it (or I will, honest). Of course, this reading list misspells or mistitles a couple of the works upon it, so I have to wonder about the class. I mean, the founding Fathers, Thoreau, King, and Whitman? And Noonan? That must have been some interesting inculcation.
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Black holes seem to control galaxy development.
When a black hole condemns your house to make way for a new strip mall, your house stays condemned.
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Bling-bling, as in "Celebrity":
I don’t care how big your belt buckle is nor how much your spurs resemble spinners, cowpoke, you should never refer to them as bling-bling.
Exception to the Rule: You may refer to bling-bling if it’s the sound you hear when your shots at a rival who’s done wronged you ricochet.
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Check it out….MfBJN is linked top left on the forthcoming Kansas City Star KC Buzz Blog!
Woo!
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Latte, as in "Celebrity":
I can throw a major fit
When my latte isn’t just how I like it
Cowboys named, what, Starbuck?
Fer cryin’ out loud, men who listen to country music drink coffee. Not flavored coffee, neither, and without milk or cream.
Exception to the Rule: A country song can use the word Latte if and only if it refers to a woman named Latte. Kinda like Vidalia.
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A regular, long-time reader writes:
Bonjour,
Je suis le webmaster de PageStart.fr et de Marche.fr.
Je souhaiterai faire un échange de liens, avec votre site http://stlbrianj.blogspot.com/.Si vous le souhaitez, vous pouvez faire un échange de liens avec nous,
dès maintenant, en cliquant sur le lien ci-dessous :
Faire un échange de liens avec PageStart.frSi vous n’êtes pas le webmaster du site, merci de nous en informer :
Je ne suis pas le webmaster de ce siteCordialement,
Eric
Thanks, Eric.
I certainly hope that spam e-mail request was flattering in its native tongue.
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Musings from Brian J. Noggle, February 13, 2006:
I don’t know what sort of Birkenstock-wearing Seattlite would shush the commercial-driven sugar-craving mewlings of its larvae with EnviroKidz Organic Koala CrispTM breakfast cereal (Gluten Free! Organic Cocoa!), but apparently somewhere, someone is making money providing the product.
James Lileks, today:
Look. When you put a box of “Cinnamon Toast” cereal on the table, the kid knows what he’s getting. “Gorilla Munch” doesn’t really nail it down. Particularly if the Gorilla appears to be gazing at the person holding forth the bowl, sizing him up for a game of poker. And I don’t get the part about “1% of sales donated to wildlife” – makes it sound like they send someone into the forest and throw wadded-up fifties at random animals.
Great minds think alike. Or perhaps Enivro-Kidz cereal is just that mockable that everyone except the earnest types will make fun of it at some time.
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