A Challenger for Duct Tape?

This stuff is pretty cool and worth checking out. The artist is Mark Jenkins and the medium is packing tape.

time, again

Gobble, gobble it up

A little sumthin' sumthin' to get in the Thanksgiving mood.

Breakfast

Serpentine stare of sepulchral shrew searing my supine soul’s stuttering stalemate. Simple, soiled suggestions sent by sanctimonious spearmint. Sally forth, sally forth.

An onion bagel.

A conversation

Blog: Phil, this is embarrassing. Your entries lately are less substantive than Harriet Miers and about as consistent as your jump-shot.

Phil: Yeah, well I’ve been traveling a bit lately without a computer and feel kinda enervated as far as writing.

Blog: Look, I’ve got an image to uphold here and if you’re gonna be the one dressing me I’ll be damned if you’re shopping at JC Penney’s. I’m talking Vera Wang and you’re giving Sketchers...this isn’t gonna work.

Phil: I don’t get it.

Blog: You wouldn’t.

Phil: Man, maybe I should just throw in the towel here.

Blog: I know I didn't hear that.

Phil’s Imagination: Wait! This blog is acting as a conduit, reversing roles and allowing my adoring readers to speak to me this time. What’s that?....Uh huh!....Of course! They’re telling me my words are like the first waft of coffee’s sweet aroma on a dull, grey morning; they’re telling me what’s typed on this page builds mountains, cures diseases, and mobilizes armies; they’re saying utter bedlam threatens should my voice not quell the upsurging masses with words of enlightenment and direction. By God, I must write! I must! If only to save civilization as we now know it….

Blog: Did you say something?

Phil: Nah. Look, I’ll come up with something, alright?

Blog: Hurry up.

Phil: Shut up.

Blog: You shut up.

[Stay tuned for the next installment…]

A public service announcement from way out...

What do you tell someone when they ask you what you're doing next Tuesday evening, October 25th? Obviously, you tell them that you're heading over to NW 17th in DC (which might require a rather lengthy flight for some) and checking out the Drag Queen Races. Come watch as I parade others parade their flamboyant glamour for the world to see followed by a mad-dash down 17th. It's a great way to get inspired to exercise during the cold, grey winter months by observing the finest examples of she-male physique. See the 'other' you there.

Aim for the stars, man, but c'mon!

Continuing the theme of the week, which vaguely entails animals acting in strikingly anthromophic ways (weapon-happy/vengeful/idiotic), here's a couple choice excerpts from the latest find:

A 13-foot Burmese python recently burst after it apparently tried to swallow a live, six-foot alligator whole, authorities said.
The incident has heightened biologists' fears that the nonnative snakes could threaten a host of other animal species in the Everglades....

...The snake was found with the gator's hindquarters protruding from its midsection. Mazzotti said the alligator may have clawed at the python's stomach as the snake tried to digest it.
In previous incidents, the alligator won or the battle was an apparent draw.

An alligator, it swallowed a six-foot long alligator...that was alive! I think natural selection is having its way one moronic python at a time.

Maybe it happened, maybe it didn't....

...your call:

STOCKHOLM (Reuters) - A Swedish hunter was knocked unconscious after his son shot a flying Canadian goose which then fell onto his head, news agency TT reported Wednesday.

"I guess it wanted revenge," hunter Ulf Ilback told local newspaper Extra Ostergotland, according to TT.

Ilback said he had to stay in bed for two days after being knocked out by the goose, which fell from around 60 feet. The birds can weigh up 13 pounds.

Austin Powers realized

1. Dr. Evil:

You know, I have one simple request. And that is to have sharks with frickin' laser beams attached to their heads! Now evidently my cycloptic colleague informs me that that cannot be done. Ah, would you remind me what I pay you people for, honestly? Throw me a bone here!

2. Excerpt from this absurdly, stupefyingly, bewilderingly ridiculous story:

Experts who have studied the US navy's cetacean training exercises claim the 36 mammals could be carrying 'toxic dart' guns. Divers and surfers risk attack, they claim, from a species considered to be among the planet's smartest. The US navy admits it has been training dolphins for military purposes, but has refused to confirm that any are missing.

Dolphins have been trained in attack-and-kill missions since the Cold War. The US Atlantic bottlenose dolphins have apparently been taught to shoot terrorists attacking military vessels. Their coastal compound was breached during the storm, sweeping them out to sea. But those who have studied the controversial use of dolphins in the US defence programme claim it is vital they are caught quickly.

Those English people and their wild imaginations.

K-research Laboratories contributed to concocting this story.

Of note

Right now, in Alaska, a statewide manhunt is underway to catch Robert "Papa Pilgrim" Hale. Papa Pilgrim, the locally famous patriarch of the 17-member Hale clan, has fled in a camper van from 30 charges including sexual assualt, kidnapping, coercion, and incest. The Anchorage Daily News had this to report:

The 17-member family, bound by strict rules that Hale drew from his reading of the Bible, broke apart last winter after a single, horrific episode, described by troopers this week. They said Hale locked a daughter in a small shack on family property near the Kennicott River in McCarthy and raped her repeatedly. Some other family members knew she was in there, heard suspicious sounds and were concerned, troopers said.

It's hard to imagine this stuff even happens these days. Luckily, the chances of Hale escaping unnoticed before winter bears down is almost nonexistent (you try escaping with an 18-inch beard, pilgrim hat, and camper truck). If he tries to hold out past that point, I'm guessing mother nature will apply final justice.

Also, I would give most things to be in San Francisco right now to check out this urban ski-jump of all urban ski-jumps. Unfortunately, my friend Tyson still hates America, so I don't know if his brother Tanner's taking part or not (of note, of note, I was in Manhattan for that road race last weekend, but the man made me work right through it...here's the results showing Alan Webb in 2nd behind Craig Mottram).

You can't run away (from problems) on a treadmill

Although you’re more likely to encounter most of the animals in the Anchorage zoo while cross-country skiing down one of the city’s urban trails, a few key exceptions to this rule reside in those pens. Most notably, the zoo has remained defiant through much controversy and maintained their 23 year old African elephant, Maggie.

This decision sickens me for all the reasons it sickens everyone else.

I arrived in Anchorage in the middle of January-halfway through their winter. By the time the ice and snow retreated enough to spend a considerable amount of time outside without warm clothes and equipment, I was getting stir crazy. That occurred in May. I’m not kidding, it was May. Relative to much of Alaska, Anchorage lies to the south and experiences the mellowing influences of coastal weather. However, let’s underscore the fact that it gets brutally cold up there and legitimate winter weather spans roughly six months (according to my sister and brother-in-law who live up there, it’s been pouring rain and hovering in the 40’s and 50’s for weeks now…it’s only September). Regarding my struggles with the weather, I wasn’t exactly living in the tropics, or even California, prior to moving there. So, although the climate shift proved substantial, it wasn’t as significant as might be experienced by someone or something moving from, ohhhh, let’s say the Sahara.

But guess what? Maggie belongs in the Sahara. Her genes didn’t arm her with the defenses necessary to combat harsh temperatures, cold winds, snow and sleet. Nor does any of the vegetation she’s used to stand a chance of growing up there.

Furthermore, as mentioned in the article, elephants herd together. Maggie, however, had one companion up until 1997 and has since spent her days among alone or among humans. Not only would this significantly alter her natural behavior (which constitutes one of the fundamental reasons for building zoos-to educate people about how animals act in the wild) but probably inflicts psychological distress in the form of loneliness and depression.

I write about this today because the zoo announced they purchased parts to construct a 16,000 pound treadmill upon which Maggie can exercise during the protracted northern winters. This extravagant gesture will do little to quell the storm of controversy surrounding the zoo’s decision to house and keep Maggie. Instead, it seems this costly and untested device serves to buy the zoo more time while they persist in mistreating this natural treasure for their own benefit.

Normally, I get a kick out of reading through the Oddly Enough news section because most of the wacky stories provide harmless, head-shaking anecdotes about ridiculous people. This story just pisses me off. I’m not the first to call for Maggie’s removal from the zoo, but it bothered me while I lived up there and it still does today. The Anchorage Zoo needs to acknowledge their inability to properly house this animal, regardless of the elaborate contraptions they devise. Maggie should not spend another winter in Alaska.

Life wish fulfilled, arrrr

Holy crap, it's finally here again! Mark yerrr calendars maties, fer the nineteenth of September...that's a Monday for ye leperous scalawags that don't know...is TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY. Arrrrrrrrr. Many thanks to sailor Judy fer tossin' the anchar an' pointin' out this fine treasure.

Cornucopia Blog

A couple things:

• Did you know that cornucopias are also called 'horns of plenty'?...based on the mythological episode when the horn of the goat that suckled Zeus broke off and became filled with fruit. Apparently, the cornucopia filled with whatever treasures its owner desired. That's mind-blowingly amazing. i know.
• I managed to find-okay, that's not quite true...i provided essential logistical and spiritual support to someone else who did the finding-an incredible deal on flights overseas and decided to take ten days in France, Italy, and Switzerland in early-mid October. I know i've discussed such an adventure with a number of people, so if you get the travel bug and have a few bucks to spend (emphasis on 'a few', we're not travelling lavishly), maybe we could cross paths for a few days somewhere across the pond. Although many people i know studied abroad, and hence, are probably more travel-europe-cheaply savvy than myself, check out STA Travel for amazing fares. You have to be under 26 or a student to apply for the cheap deals. The destinations span the globe, not just Europe. Be persistent, the fickle rates sometimes change from day to day. If you see something amazing, don't anticipate it being there tomorrow.
• Another choice selection from the don't-they-actually-work-at-the-department-of-justice vault: Professional skateboarder Danny Way hurled himself over the Great Wall of China on a skateboard. Check it out. Here's his website.
• Astronaut Tim Robinson recorded the first quasi-podcast from space. Thanks BoingBoing.

That's it. I feel better now.

Why didn't South Korea choose him?

What animal could possibly be more deserving of having its genes duplicated than my new-found friend Tyson? Suggesting my girlfriend's current level of productivity at her job, she managed to find this genius bulldog who conducts himself with infinitely more poise and style on a skateboard than I ever have or will. Be sure to check out the video clips listed under 'Pics and Movies' because they'll blow you away, especially the one where he's riding downhill towards the beach. Ty and Eric, you better be down at Huntington Beach on September 18th, because Tyson will reign as Grand Marshall during Walk For The Animals. I'll never forgive you if you don't go.

Also, while doing my research to verify that i'm not the only idiot utterly captivated by this dog, I happened upon another website listed in Men's Journal's 100 Best Websites from August 2004 that consists of videos showing scantily clad, voluptuous women trying to rev their sporty rides out of various muddy traps. My unschooled opinion thinks they're catering to those with foot fetishes, mudwrestling afficionados, and control freaks, but i'm probably wrong. Imagine sitting-in on the think tank that engendered this marvelous creation. I wonder if they considered the equally tantalizing 'womensharpeningpencils.com' or 'babesbreathingoxygen.com'?

It takes all kinds.

Oh yeah, why are they trying to rename my street. Reagan already has his airport and federal building, isn't that enough. Story first broken by DCist.

I still don't like 'em

There's people out there doing crazy things. I read an article in this week's New Yorker (article not yet available electronically) that delved into the esoteric world of leech research. Some highlights follow:

• Leeches have 3 jaws arranged in a Y-shaped pattern, each of which contains about 100 teeth. After latching onto the flesh-o-the-day (actually, they feed much less frequently…some leeches can live up to a year between meals), they penetrate skin by sawing through with their miniscule teeth.
• There are 4 commercial leech farms in the world, one in each of the following countries: England, France, Germany, and Russia.
• In 2004, the FDA authorized leeches for use as medical devices. Leeches can play a crucial role in microsurgery, such as helping to reattach severed limbs. The only other FDA-approved application of live animals as medicinal instruments is maggots: they feed only on necrotic flesh, hence, when applied to wounds, they will consume infected tissue while leaving healthy tissue untouched.
• Speaking of bloodletting, I learned why those red and white striped poles always adorn barbershops. During the nineteenth century, ‘barber-surgeons’ not only cut hair, but also bled patients (common-knowledge?).
• Contrary to popular belief, leeches reside in a wide variety of climates. Some of the more outrageous cases mentioned in the article include a species in the Sahara that resides in the nose of camels, one than attacks the armpits of turtles, and another that loves nothing more than a hippopotamus anus.
• Medicinal leeching traces its roots back millennia, including mentions in both ancient Sanskrit and Greek writings, and reached a zenith in the early-mid 19th century (the latter can largely be accounted for by the influence of Francois Joseph Victor Broussais, a surgeon for the Napoleonic armies, who believed all diseases traced their roots to inflammation of the gastrointestinal tract. Starvation and bloodletting were the commonly prescribed cures).
• Leeches are hermaphrodites.
• The giant leech is real! These other-worldly slugs patrol the waters of the Amazon basin, grow to rival the size of a man’s forearm, and feed by inserting a six-inch long needlelike proboscis (think skinny, mutated elephant trunk) into its host. Attack of the Giant Leeches and The Leech Woman were documentaries, didn’t you know that.
• Leeches operate with a more sophisticated technique than simply sucking blood. Upon penetrating through the skin, they release an anesthetic from tiny ducts in-between their teeth. You might feel a quick prick, but probably won’t pay too much attention since the pain subsides quickly. Once the leech opens its treasure chest of blood, it capitalizes on its opportunity. First of all, leeches spit out anti-coagulant to ensure the flood keeps flowing. Next, they inject a vasodilator into their luscious concoction to open up blood vessels. As if that wasn’t enough, leeches complete their recipe by including a spreading factor, which moves the chemicals quickly to remote tissues, encouraging these cowering tissues to relinquish their prized blood.

So that’s cool. Now I want to figure out more about those damn centipedes that dart around DC and give me the willies. Oh, my brutal trench-warfare battle-of-attrition with Dell and Ebay finally came to a victorious end. I now have a functioning laptop. It might still be a concrete Dell, I might still be stuck with Windows, but atleast I can check The Onion whenever I want.

Seeing as how it's friday night, i'm in New Orleans, and i'm sitting in my hotel room, I thought I should write about ridiculous things for this ridiculous situation (you can only spend so much time wandering bourbon street on your own before you descend into a sordid spiral of filth; as cool as a bunch of statisticians, economists, and fisheries scientists can be...and they can...they certainly aren't cool at late hours).

So here goes:
It seems there was a chicken that got it's head cut off in the forties and lived without this usually vital appendage for 18 months. The creative folks in Colorado christened him Mike the Headless Chicken. After a change of heart, his owner decided that feasting on Mike after slaughtering him with an axe was a mean-spirited idea, so he dedicated himself to feeding and watering him with a syringe, allowing him to triple his weight and then some. Hmmmm, maybe a bit sketchy? Maybe not. The axe blade missed his jugular vein, and a blood clot ensured that the rooster retained enough blood to survive. Also, the axe landed high in his neck which left most of the brain stem intact. Mike received his due praise when Life and Time magazines both wrote stories about the phenom, and Guinness World Records later honored him as the "Longest Surving Headless Chicken". I mean, if Guinness says so...

Side note, i'm an idiot and didn't know that a rooster was an adult male chicken. Is this common knowledge? probably.

Also, it does rain more on weekends, atleast in the northeastern United States. Yet another reason to stop driving gas guzzling SUV's. Then again, I'm sure people are just doing it to temper the hurricanes.

the most recent posting on my blog

So I was watching Batman Begins tonight and amid the creepy hallucinations, gratuitous shots of still-trembling-lower-right lipped Katie Holmes’ covered nipples, and my future car, there were also a whole bunch of flying sewer lids. So I got to thinking that I don’t want a flying sewer lid to land on my skull. Then I got to thinking about the teenage mutant ninja turtles, those heroes in half-shells, who were known to utilize said sewer lids as projectile weapons against Shredder’s goons. Then I thought that ‘goons’ is a funny word. Then I was wondering if I could call that world onomatopoeia, even though I didn’t think I could. I was right. I couldn’t. but I still had the chance to write the word ‘onomatopoeia’. Twice now. Twice because I just used it again in the previous sentence. Actually it was two sentences before the last sentence when I said that. But the intervening sentence wasn’t much of a sentence, so now I really don’t know what to make of my situation. Hell. So now I’m forgetting about that and thinking about sewers, which are kind of like caves, which have spelunkers spelunking down into the depths. Then I thought, damn, not too many people I know spelunk…if any. So I started reminiscing about the Carlsbad Caverns and how alien and exotic those subterranean caves were with stalactites and stalagmites and bats and all. And that got me thinking about Batman again, but then I decided thinking about Carlsbad was more interesting so I’m doing that again. And I remembered this one gigantic rock poised oh-so precariously in the caverns. It rested on the outcropping of one rock and leaned against the cavern wall twenty two feet away. The educational display down there said it will surely become dislodged in the next couple hundred years or so…and then I thought again about sewer lids and skulls and how I hope that rock doesn’t come crashing down on my skull the next time I go carousing through the caves in Carlsbad. But not spelunking. I won’t be spelunking because I’d have to have gear and not an elevator or a well-trodden path or electric lights elegantly positioned behind rocks to simulate natural light. Nothing natural about it deep down in the bowels of the earth where lava roils and continent factories churn and I dig in my sandbox all the way to china. Can you imagine, I tried digging all the way to china one time with a simple shovel, a pair of size 3 smelly sneakers, and a black Labrador sniffing at my side. I never made it. I wonder if Smokey did? He might have, but then he would have had to dig through the lava and that would be bad. I think our sandbox would turn into a volcano. Right there, smack in the middle of residential Spokane, Washington a volcano would have erupted. Maybe we could have timed it for the fourth of july or something so nobody would notice and we wouldn’t get grounded. I hated getting grounded, especially in the summer when I could look out my window and see my brother and sisters out playing tag in the sweet summer evening air in front of our house with the kids in the neighborhood. Playing away while I was stuck inside thinking about the doors I’d slammed and the heaving chest and the frustration and anger and sadness and all those emotions that channel through a kid. There weren’t many kids in gotham city, just a couple I recall. Little scavengers lurking in the shadows of the undercity rat alleys, poised against walls, waiting to fall…but maybe not in their lifetimes. Not if Batman has anything to say about it.

College degrees being put to good use...

Oh my god, i found something more entertaining than team Scrabble for a group of 8: it's this thing right here that you just gotta check out. Ingenuity is not dead. Somebody please, please, please get one of these things and invite me over. I'll supply all the Pabst. I'd get one but i'm afraid i'd stumble across it in the middle of the night and think it intended to devour me.