is a blog by Brendan
Dear gentle reader: this blog has been operating continuously since I was a teenager. The writing below is at least a decade old. In that time every molecule of my body has been replaced, along with many foolish ideas and flighty beliefs. I want to keep some of those things public out of an honesty and humility I owe the world. I trust you to carry that context with you.
How many two-year-olds have their own weblogs? (Not enough!) If you don’t already read The Daily Zoe, you should, as it will consistently and significantly improve your outlook on life. It’s hard to feel bad about your day when you see the sheer amounts of attention and love surrounding that kid. Bonus: life-threatening cuteness!
Oh, and remind me to post something else about babies when I get home.
I got a new toaster oven this weekend, and I’m a little afraid of it. I am a huge fan of toaster ovens, which are both cuter and more wieldy than your typical harvest-gold Kenmore stove. Also, they actually allow you to SEE if your toast is getting overdone, which is plus ten points. (Why don’t they make toasters with glass sides? [Because the constant fluctuation in temperature would cause them to explode, showering you with glass.] Well still!)
Yet this toaster oven has me awed and a little frightened. My past experience with toaster ovens has been with old, comfy appliances, the kind that can dial all the way up to REDUCE TO CARBON and only achieve a kind of mild browning. My new toaster oven (suggestions on a name, anyone?), though, is a mite more enthusiastic. It’s the young, brash Loose Cannon from the buddy cop movie. It hits dark brown before the dial is even on medium, and I’m too scared to try the darkest setting on anything edible. I bet it could burst into flames.
| Maria: | ACK! Brendan, your toast has burst into flames! |
| Brendan: | Oh no! Crap, get the extinguisher! |
| Maria: | There’s no time! You’re going to have to throw it out the window! |
| Brendan: | Aww MAN! (grabs oven mitts, shoulders aside balcony door and tosses toaster oven off with a smoky plume) |
| Maria: | Where’d it go? |
| Brendan: | I think it– |
| Maria: | BRENDAN! You hit and killed that elderly philanthropist! |
| Toaster Oven: | HA HA HA HU-MANS |
Seriously, I do like it. It makes nachos and pot pies well, and those essential functions will serve it admirably. I was also going to buy this neat little eight-dollar Target waffle-maker; I abandoned the idea since the oven maxed out my toaster budget, but then Maria bought it anyway. This nearly doubles my breakfast-cooking options. If I learn to bake granola, I’ll be a breakfast bandit!
| Maria: | No, toaster oven, don’t! It’s too dangerous! |
| Toaster Oven: | IT IS OVER FOR YOU, BREAKFAST BAN-DIT |
| Brendan: | You’ll never take me alive, buddy coppers! |
| (hail of gunfire, and the smell of burned fingers) |
Maria and I saw a church marquee the other day that read
GOD IS BIGGER
We figured it was the ontological argument for God’s existence at its highest possible compression.
For the record, I know that xorph.com is experiencing outages (well, besides the failure of its cartoonist). Deep Fried, my webhost, is getting really flaky because the colo facility from which it resells is also getting really flaky, which explains the problems I’ve had with PHP, ftp and email accounts. I’ll probably be moving to PHPWebhosting soon, as it comes highly recommended and seems to have everything I need. (Stephen, we may have to talk about this–where are you, anyway?)
It’s the Talk To a Terrifyingly Quick Standup Comic in California on the Phone Game!
Thanks for playing the Talk To a Terrifyingly Quick Standup Comic in California on the Phone Game!
Amanda is a born columnist. Somebody syndicate her now, please.
Okay, one more nitpick. From Jon:
“… a Danville Cracker Barrel restaurant has been unwittingly selling postcards of Louisville’s skyline, emblazoned with ‘Lexington.'”
Danville: Home to Centre College. Host of a 2004 Presidential Debate. Thanks, Danville. Danville.
We spent all of yesterday moving the entire world from Richmond and my old apartment into the new apartment with Maria. My forearms are killing me, and our living room is choked with stuff, but my room actually looks fairly good and my bookshelf is full.
I literally did move everything I own this time; I no longer have any possessions in Richmond, and only a few boxes in storage. There was a big ordeal with getting a moving truck (notice: when U-Haul says “your reservation is confirmed,” what they actually mean is “eat a fuck, shitbrains”), but Ian’s roommate’s family had one that was bigger than what they needed and they were kind enough to help.
So it all worked out eventually, but the process took so long that it was 2030 hrs by the time Mom could head back home. Needless to say, it was also a little late for me to go home and pick up the half-day of work I’d wanted. That’s why I’m in the office alone on a Saturday, putting together my presentation for the CEO ‘n’ company on Monday morning. The fact that I’m in the office is in turn the only reason I can post this, since we have no interweb at home for the moment.
Why isn’t there some source of free crappy broadcast interweb, like there is with TV? Ad-supported. Big networks. Come on, it would be so convenient for people who just moved in.
Also, why not make cell phone rings work like my cell phone’s alarm? It starts off by vibrating, then gradually makes its beeping louder and louder until you wake up. It obviously isn’t hard to do, and that would give you a little notice so you could go for the phone before it just jumped in at the same annoying volume immediately. I hate cell phones. I love my cell phone.
Probably no more activity until Monday at the soonest (although of course I make all my posts from work now anyway).
Says Mister Crummy, regarding this last entry:
“The obvious thing that comes to my mind is ‘3001’ by Arthur C. Clarke, which is an awful book but which features, among other things, tame, semi-intelligent velociraptors who do menial tasks like gardening. This is just an incidental detail which is not important to the story, but it’s portrayed as a good deal for everyone including the no-longer-extinct dinosaurs…
Another one is David Brin’s Uplift series, in which one type of genetic engineering (making semi-intelligent species fully intelligent) is seen as a social good and a duty. Some of the characters in the books are genetically engineered chimps and dolphins.
If a piece of technology is central to a science fiction story then usually something has to go wrong or the technology has to be abused in some way, or there’s no story. I like Brin because he’s good at coming up with different drivers for conflict.”
He’s right, and that’s a common weakness of science fiction: Neat Idea Syndrome. My Creative Writing visiting professor, Nancy Zafris, told me when asked that yes, SF did have a pretty low standing within her literary circles.
“Why?” I asked. “There’s so much vibrant, progressive fiction out there.”
“I don’t know,” she said, distastefully. “It just always seems like there’s a problem, so they have to… do something with the computer, and that’s the end.”
Which you know is ridiculous, if you’ve ever read SF, but it does make a point: Neat Idea SF exists, and it’s perceived by the casual reader as a) all the same and b) boring. The casual reader is pretty much right, when the story doesn’t involve you with a character. When it gets down to it, a Neat Idea may catch your fancy, but eventually humans are only interested in reading about themselves.
So yeah, now I want to read David Brin, because what Leonard says makes him sound like exactly the right kind of character-focused writer. Unfortunately, my current bedside reading pile is staggering. I went to the library again tonight, with my newly repaired bike tires, and picked up yet more of my reserved books (Frank Miller, Diana Wynne Jones, Rob Thomas). I’m going to have to get a new box when I move on Friday just to keep my library stuff in. Is there a twelve-step program for this kind of thing?