A Disordered Mind

More Sad News

2008-07-02T10:35:00.000-07:00

All medical attempts to help my disabled computer were doomed, as the power supply went kaput and shorted out the motherboard. This means it will be a while before regular posting resumes, as I will be ordering a new 'puter. But never fear, inane, pointless commentary will be back in a week or so.

We've All Got To Go Sometime

2008-06-26T13:44:00.000-07:00

Just a quick note as a service to the roughly 1,000,000 people who read this blog every day*: My home computer has been growing increasingly despondent of late (possibly due to the number of Freecell and Minesweeper games played on it) and last night, in the wee small hours, it took its own life. This will result in a continuing extreme slowdown until I can get it fixed, which will probably be next week.

On the positive side, a reader called me an inane, cappuccino-drinking vegetable muncher, which is cool.

*Number approximate. Rounded up to the nearest one million.

NP: Drive-By Truckers, “Goddamn Lonely Love”

Southern Baptists Take A Conservative Turn

2008-06-19T07:55:00.000-07:00

The Southern Baptist Convention has elected a new president, Johnny Hunt, a conservative pastor from Georgia. This is important to us in this state, since the Southern Baptists are the dominant religious group in a state that is second only to Utah in its closeness to a theocracy. Hunt’s election is seen as turning the convention in a more conservative direction, if possible, although Hunt promises to take it slow. First step: Eliminate all uses of the words “woman” or “women” in official documents, replacing them with the more theologically correct “breeding stock.”

NP: Metallica, “Welcome Home (Sanitarium)”

Please Read This If Your Feet Are Missing

2008-06-19T07:27:00.000-07:00

Some stories just have to be passed on without comment. It seems that in Canada, feet have been washing up on shore in British Columbia. No hands, heads, or other body parts, just feet so far. To date, there have been six unmatched feet, and no one has figured out what’s going on. Not to make light of what is obviously a tragedy, but this is bizarre. Click on the link to go to the story on CNN's website.

NP: Metallica, “Enter Sandman”

We're All Crackpots Here

2008-06-17T08:35:00.000-07:00

WARNING: If you are of the New Age, aura reading persuasion, the following post will piss you off. As I don’t wish this, please skip it.

According to an article in the Huntsville Times, the University of Alabama-Huntsville hosted something called the New Earth Festival here this weekend. In addition to tarot cards, spell casting, and aura readings, there was an expert on the Crystal Skulls. You know, as in Indiana Jones and The. Supposedly, the 13 crystal skulls were created millennia ago to save the world. When the world ends on December 21, 2012 (according the Mayan Calendar), the skulls will unite to save us. Or lead to a spiritual awakening, nobody is sure. The skulls were discussed by Walter, who is both a parapsychologist AND a waiter. By the way, if you want to believe in the Crystal Skulls Hoo-Haa, kindly ignore the fact that they are only 100 to 200 years old, and were created to bilk gullible tourists.

This is all quite funny, but I don’t understand what UAH is doing being involved with this. For those of you not from Huntsville, UAH builds itself as a high-tech, science-oriented school, and that image takes a battering from events like this. Then again, since UAH is home to John Christy, who is leading the efforts to ignore global warming, maybe this is their style.

NP: David & David, “Welcome to the Boomtown”

Press Release

2008-06-12T20:23:00.001-07:00

From Matt Staggs:

Tachyon Publications Goes to the Dogs!

Photo contest winners to receive newest Nancy Kress novel and more

Tachyon Publications wants to see your dog. The "Dogs" photo contest has begun and readers worldwide are sending in pictures of their beloved pets. The contest celebrates the July 1^st release of "Dogs," the thrilling new novel of bioterrorism and international intrigue by award-winning science fiction author Nancy Kress ("Beggars in Spain").

Skinny dogs, fat dogs, big dogs, little dogs, email your favorite pictures of them to dogs@tachyonpublications.com between now and July 31^st . The team at Tachyon Publications will pick three very lucky dogs and their owners to win a special gift pack, including a signed copy of "Dogs" and some delectable doggy treats. In addition, dog pictures submitted to Tachyon Publications will be featured in an online gallery: http://flickr.com/photos/27659337@N08/sets/72157605575776688/

For more information about "Dogs" visit Tachyon Publications online at http://www.tachyonpublications.com/book/Dogs.html, or email publicist Matt Staggs: matt@tachyonpublications.com.

Based in San Francisco, California, Tachyon Publications has been a leading publisher of quality science fiction and fantasy literature for over a decade.

More Differences Between Men and Women

2008-06-11T13:35:00.001-07:00

Another in a long line of stories about the innate cognitive differences between men and women:

So I come home from picking up my clothes at the laundry (Death To Buttons! on Hwy 72. Ask for Genghis.), and Beautiful Wife is sitting in the middle of the living room floor, tools scattered around her, a devilishly cute grease smudge on her check, and something she had just assembled on the floor in front of her. If was a construction of chrome and glass, with rods and chains going in every direction for no apparent reason. I couldn’t tell if it was right side up or upside down.

“What do you think of it?” BW asked, smiling.

“It’s beautiful,” I replied. My marriage has lasted over twenty years.

We both quietly admired the object for quite a while.

“What is it?” I finally asked, breaking down.

BW gave me the Look of Death. “It’s an end table. Are you stupid?”

“Yes,” I said. “I kind see the flat surface near the, uh…is that the top?”

“Of course it is,” she hissed. “You’re impossible. You hate everything I like.”

We went our separate ways, with my intent to allow things to cool down. The new end table was installed between The Coach Too Uncomfortable to Lay On and The Chair Too Uncomfortable to Sit On, a couple of BW’s previous purchases.

That night, while BW was watching Cash Cab on TV, I decided to show what a sport I was. I carried my book and coffee over near the end table to sit next to it. I had a difficult choice as, truth be told, The Coach Too Uncomfortable to Lay On was also hell to sit on, as it had a high, hard ridge in the front that immediately cut off circulation in your legs when you sat down. The Chair Too Uncomfortable to Sit On was, all in all, the better alternative, so I sat down, and placed my coffee cup on BW’s new coffee table.

Ever see the 1978 version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, with Donald Sutherland? If so, you probably remember the piercing shriek that the aliens who had taken over human bodies emitted when they spotted someone who had not been assimilated. BW made that sound.

“What are you doing?” she screamed, as her voice dropped back into the range of human ears.

Long time husband instincts, forged in the primordial ooze, kicked in. I knew I had done something wrong, but couldn’t figure out what. I fought to slow my racing heart, looking around wildly for the cause of the commotion. No luck.

“What’s wrong, honey?” I quavered, a contrite grin on my face. Please don’t throw anything, I thought.

“You PUT your MUG on the TABLE!” She thundered.

“That’s what it’s for,” I protested, confused.

“This is not a weight bearing table! Putting a mug on it could break it, or at least warp it.”

By this time, I had scooped the offending mug up and was holding it over my head. “Yes, dear, it won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” she said, stalking off.

Now the men who read this are thinking, why in the hell would anyone buy an end table you couldn’t put anything on?, while the women are thinking, What kind of idiot would assume a table could bear weight.

My kind.

NP: REM “Wall of Death”

No Limit to Shame

2008-06-10T05:42:00.000-07:00

Ginnifer Flowers and Paula Jones refuse to relinquish the spotlight and slink back to the trailer park. They now have a website, where, for a fee, they will tell about their sexual encounters with former President Clinton. There’s a name for women who make money off sex, what is it, oh, yeah. Whore. Jones who alleges Clinton once made a pass at her, has leveraged that brief encounter into a book deal, lucrative legal settlement, a nude magazine spread, and now an internet sex site. Beats working for a living, I guess.

NP: Rolling Stones, “Star Star”

Loretta Nall: I HATE Wal-Mart

2008-06-06T11:17:00.001-07:00

Some of you who have read my previous posts may think I'm the only nutcase who encounters bizarrely inefficient salespeople and wigs out. I humbly direct you to a post on my friend Loretta Nall's blog to show I am not alone.

Loretta Nall: I HATE Wal-Mart

Political Stuff

2008-06-05T07:32:00.001-07:00

Odds and ends…

-The scuttlebutt around state offices is that Jim Folsom is beginning to sweat out the probable gubernatorial run by Representative Artur Davis. Folsom is counting on a relatively easy Democratic primary season, but if Davis runs, and it is increasingly likely he will, that will make things tough. This is seen as one of the reasons Folsom has been pushing a North Alabama to Mobile highway that would run through West Alabama. Businessman Jimmy Rane is also probably entering the race on the Republican side, so expect to hear the campaign slogan “Yellawood! Yellawood!” a lot.

-Although it is improbable, some people are imaging a 2010 Senate race between Bob Riley and newly cleared/pardoned Don Siegelman. The biggest of many hurdles would be Riley taking on and defeating Richard Shelby in the Republican primary, but if it does come to pass, the fight between two mortal enemies, Siegelman and Riley, would be one for the ages.

These are rumors that are flying around, and should be taken with some amount of skepticism.

NP: Stevie Ray Vaughn, “Little Wing”

A Tragic Disregard of the Past

2008-06-04T14:05:00.001-07:00

Like a lot of the idle internet class, I spend some time on message boards. On the main one where I hang, there is a category called “On Da Beam”, where you post whatever you are listening to at the time. A lot of interesting discussions have developed out of that, and I’ve found quite a bit of good new music that way. But something happened yesterday that disturbed me to the core of my being.

Someone I don’t know posted they were listening to the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack. I mentioned I thought that was a bad idea, since Disco is a tool of the devil. Immediately I was deluged with pro-disco comments, and found that everyone else on the board loved disco.

This is probably because I’m one of the older people on the board. Since you’re probably younger than I as well, let me give you a bit of history.

Back in the 1970s, when I was a teenager, there was a war going on in this country. It was the most important moment in American history, a struggle between good and evil on an epic scale. It was the war between Rock and Disco. For years, we rockers fought with passion against moronic, drum-machine powered disco music, and eventually, at great cost, we won, and the disco threat was eradicated. Since then, it has maintained a niche existence, but has not controlled our culture ever again.

Time passes. People forget. Those of you under 40 don’t realize that the freedom you enjoy is the result of our sacrifice. But take a moment to look at this glorious motto from the conflict, and reflect on what it means to you:

NP: Jason Isbell, “Brand New Kind of Actress”

Laugh or Cry?

2008-06-03T12:10:00.000-07:00

According to an unimpeachable source (da internetz), Michigan wide receiver Mario Manningham, a talented young man who maintained eligibility for three years before turning pro after his junior season, scored a 72 on the IQ test administered by the NFL. This is considered borderline retardation on the old guidelines. How did Manningham stay eligible when he was technically mentally disabled? By taking and passing courses at Michigan such as “How To Manage A Day Planner” and “How To Read A Calendar”.

Normally, I never miss an opportunity to heap ridicule on a Wolverine, but the truth is Manningham manhandled my team the last two years, Yep, we got pwned by a retard.

Apologies for the non-PC talk, Michigan brings it out in me.

NP: The Vaughn Brothers, “Tick Tock”

Universal Truths

2008-06-02T08:13:00.000-07:00

It’s a heavy responsibility, being a blogger. You have millions (approximately) of readers looking to you for wisdom to guide their lives every day. This kind of pressure could crack many a man, but fortunately, I drink.

Anyway, here, in what hopefully will be a continuing feature, is a set of Universal Truths. These are things you can always rely on. Trust me, I’ve learned from experience.

1. People never change. While someone achieving an epiphany and turning their life around is a quintessential American story, it is unfortunately a myth, as people always remain exactly who they are. The junkie pimp who got religion and became a preacher? Underneath, he’s the same person with a new scam to exploit. People may seem different on the surface, but their core is set at an early age. So, parents, if your 11-year-old is a selfish jerk, and you’re always saying “He’ll grow out of it”, sorry. Your little snowflake will still be a jerk at fifty.

2. Anyone named Elbert is batshit crazy. Although Elbert is not a common name, I have known or met half a dozen of them in my lifetime, and they’ve always been stark raving loons. So, if you encounter an Elbert, beware.

3. From a teenage prank, I learned to always test fuses. Right before the explosion is not the time to discover the fuse burns faster than you would have believed possible. And no one looks good without eyebrows.

4. When you form a band, it is relevant to discover just how much glue the lead singer huffed in high school. In one of my bands, I had the following conversation with the lead singer every single performance.

Gluepot: What’s the name of that song we always do by Thin Lizzy, the song about a cowboy?

Me: It’s called “Cowboy Song”

Gluepot: Oh, yeah.

Every single time.

5. Some things are not meant to be understood by mortal men. I’m referring, of course, to the continued popularity of Will Ferrell, who plays the same unfunny character (a moronic man-child) in every movie. This also applies to Adam Sandler and Will Ferrell.

So there they are, the first five Universal Truths. I hope you will use them to make your life a better one.

NP: Roy Buchanon, “Short Fuse”

TV News....Er, News

2008-05-29T08:39:00.000-07:00

One of the local TV stations, WAAY, has suddenly dismissed their news anchor, Michael Scott. What amuses me is the veil of secrecy that news organizations use to try to hide their own goings-on. The only reason given is that something happened during a commercial break on the 10:00 newscast. Since they won’t say exactly what happened, I choose to believe Scott stripped naked, leaped to the top of the news desk, and began screaming “I’m the ruler of the world! Behold my mighty staff!” Alas, the truth is probably more mundane.

Just for the record, it’s been ten years since I watched a local newscast, so I didn’t know who the hell Michael Scott was.

NP: Robert Earl Keen, “Down That Dusty Trail”

Only In These Here Parts

2008-05-24T09:55:00.001-07:00

There are some stories you just won’t read anywhere but the South. In this morning’s Huntsville Times, there is a headline which states “Police Probe Mystery of Dead Possum in Wrecked SUV.” Seems workers at a construction site arrived to find a wrecked SUV, and when police searched the vehicle, they found a possum in the front which had been killed by the impact. They also found a woman stumbling dazed through an adjacent field, but she denied any knowledge of either SUV or possum.

NP: The Venture, “Telestar”

People Are Just Strange, I Tell You

2008-05-24T09:54:00.001-07:00

There’s a news item in the morning paper that states that a man died in New York from swallowing an aphrodisiac made from toad venom, prompting the city to consider banning the sale. I don’t want to make light of a tragedy, or to be crude, but how unattractive does your partner have to be to even consider bogarting toad venom to perform?

NP: Dolly Parton, “Jolene”

Advances In Medicine

2008-05-22T06:28:00.000-07:00

There’s something about Texas. Although many of my favorite musicians and performers hail from that ginormous state (Austin has probably the best music scene of any city in America), they have their own particular brand of crazy. In Corinth, Texas, they have come up with a novel way of treating a teenager having an epileptic seizure. They get the cops to Taser the hell out of him. With all the people in the world who desperately need to be unmercifully tasered, why single this kid out?

NP: Jonathon Richman, “Roadrunner”

Graduations

2008-05-20T14:08:00.000-07:00

It’s the time of the year. I’ve been reading stories of memorable graduations, and fascinating traditions. Despite four graduations in my past, none of them had any particular hallowed tradition that lingers in my mind. Unless it was the Baptist minister who spot at the graduation breakfast, and made everything he talked about into a strained football metaphor (Sometimes in life, you break free and race for the goal line. Then, sometimes, you drop the ball on the one yard line. Then, sometimes, you pick it back up…). This was in some ways appropriate, as I had a hand held football game I played during the sermon. I hope in life, all the reverend’s drop-kicks have been true.

Despite the basic dullness, our college graduation ceremonies were livened by the choice of speaker: Ted Turner. This was several years ago, so Turner was younger, and much, much drunker than now. His rambling talk was a blast. He told jokes in which he gave the first line, skipped the setup and went straight to the punchline, rendering it incomprehensible to all of us. But he laughed his ass off. He also brought a prop, a medium size paper clip. During his presentation, he twisted it up, then flung it ever higher in the air, catching it as it fell, with Turner staggering ever farther from the podium to retrieve it. This provided welcome breaks in the narrative. He also promised the lumpen star of our basketball team, a slow white kid with a very accurate flat-footed two-handed shot (if he had played in 1940, he’d probably be in the basketball hall of fame) a shot with the Atlanta Hawks (owned then by Turner). Ted lived up to his promise, and the kid got a one day try-out and a ticket back to Indiana. All in all, the most entertaining graduation speaker ever, and the best at holding his booze.

NP: Elvis Costello, “Watching The Detectives”

Doggone It

2008-05-19T11:31:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, Kachoo, the larger and clumsier of our two dogs, managed to step into a heretofore undiscovered fire ant bed on our property, and was swarmed by them. She's fine, I quickly grabbed her and dunk her into a sink full of water, eventually giving her a much-needed bath. I don't think she even got bitten, due to her thick fur and the short time they had to work. I'm a different story, however, as my hands are covered with ant bites from pulling them off. It's a good thing dogs are so loveable...

NP: Roseanne Cash, "Black Cadillac"

It's Not Just Us

2008-05-19T07:18:00.000-07:00

I caught part of a program on one of the news channels this weekend about what a racist and xenophobic society we have in the United States. I can’t deny we have our problems, but there was the implication that it was just us, and not the rest of the world. I would say that, as unfortunate as it may seem, such feelings are almost universal in mankind.

For example, I get my haircut by a wonderful Korean woman named Kim (a surprising name). She owns the shop, and has hired her fellow Korean émigrés as staff. At the adjoining station is another nice young woman also named Kim. Both emigrated to the US as adults, and maintain ties to the old country. Although they typically speak Korean among themselves, when I’m in the chair, they use English as a courtesy (something you won’t get from, say, Germans. But I digress.). Some time, ago, whilst I was getting my locks sheared, the following exchange took place. To avoid confusion, my Kim is Kim1, the other Kim is Kim2.

Kim2: Did you hear about the plane crash?

Kim1: What plane crash?

Kim2: A passenger plane crashed in Korea. 147 people were killed.

Kim1: Oh, my God! That’s terrible!

Kim2: They were all Chinese.

Kim1: Oh (pauses). Then who cares?

NP: James McMurtry, “Cheney’s Toy”

More Conspicuous Consumption

2008-05-15T12:56:00.001-07:00

I gave in and ordered a new guitar, to be delivered in mid-June. I need a new guitar like a hole in the head, but I can’t resist my love for Danelectro. The guitar pictured here is the Danelectro ’63 baritone. It will be my first baritone guitar that’s not half a doubleneck, and it will be good to play while singing, since my singing voice is also a fairly deep baritone. It’s not a good voice, but it is deep. Here’s the new child I’m waiting on:

NP: Doug Sahm, “Nuevo Laredo”

An Ordeal Behind Me

2008-05-15T08:46:00.002-07:00

I have survived Older American’s Festival again. No senior citizens hit me, none died on the premises, and life is good. Not even any good stories, like the year two 80 year old men fought because they found out they had the same girlfriend, a 78-year-old hussy. As soon as the sunburn fades, it will all be a memory.

NP: Robert Earl Keen, "I Still Miss Someone"

Tomorrow, I Dine In Hell

2008-05-12T12:53:00.001-07:00

Please keep me in your thoughts tomorrow, as my agency sponsors the annual Older Americans Festival (We are not allowed to call it OAF). I will be dealing with 3500+ seniors citizens. And before you start in with “seniors are the nicest people, remember this one: “Only the good die young’, which would mean I will be around 3500 evil people. Past festivals have seen me slapped, having a coke thrown on me, and beaten with an umbrella. I so look forward to this.

NP: James McMurty, “Just Us Kids”

Alabama Legislative Outtakes

2008-05-12T09:58:00.000-07:00

Ever wonder what that good-for-nothing so-and-so you elected to the state Lege is doing to earn your money? Now you can know. Loretta Nall has started a blog called Alabama Legislative Outtakes that is a must read/hear. it features audio tracks of actual legislative (in)action. Many of the clips are high comedy, but here's a warning: If you are prone to depression, please be sure you've been taking the appropriate dosage of Prozac before finding out what the Lege is actually up to.

NP: Robert Earl Keen, "The Bucking Song"

Guilt By Association

2008-05-12T07:52:00.000-07:00

I’ve posted before about the above miscreants; the simultaneous bane and joy of my life. For those of you who don’t remember the larger one (11 pounds) is Kachoo, while the smaller one (5 pounds) is Kaylee.

Kachoo has a problem. She’ll eat anything, organic or inorganic. She is always in a panic for food, and swallows anything that will fit in her mouth, including rocks. This is attributed to a number of things. I slipped and dropped her from a short height when she was a puppy, which might have caused brain damage. More likely, we got her at far too young an age (5 weeks) and she has suffered some form of separation anxiety. Whatever the cause, she is a bottomless pit with no distinction made as to what she throws into it.

As a puppy, she developed a disgusting fondness for stealing Kleenexes out of the trash, and gobbling them down, an 8.5 on the gross-o-meter. We tried soaking a Kleenex in a fluid purchased at a local pet emporium, guaranteed to repel dogs from eating it. She gobbled the Kleenex like it was candy. In desperation, I took a bottle of the hottest hot sauce I own (I am a dedicated follower of hot foods), soaked a tissue with it, and left in on an end-table where Kachoo could get it, and left the room. Almost immediately, I had pangs of guilt. This sauce was so hot it would set me on fire with just a drop, and I had saturated the Kleenex. I didn’t want to hurt her, so I ran back into the den to grab it and throw it away. The Kleenex was gone, and Kachoo was happily licking the cap of the hot-sauce bottle.

So, it wasn’t exactly surprisingly when BW woke me up on a recent Saturday with the news Kachoo had eaten chewing gum. My first inclination was just to roll over and go back to sleep, but BW had already done some research. Kachoo had eaten one pack of citrus gum and one pack of spearmint (her breath had never smelled better). More importantly, the gum was sugar-free. Apparently, sugar-free gum contains an amazingly toxic chemical (makes you think, don’t it?) and Kachoo had ingested many times the lethal amount for her size. So we hied with all due speed to the local emergency veterinary clinic, where they told us we were looking at a window of minutes to address the problem. Kachoo had her stomach pumped, and was forced to swallow a large amount of charcoal. While we waited to see if she would be all right, a new thought arose. What about Kaylee? Normally, she doesn’t have the food obsession of her older sibling (her fetish is 20+ hours of sleep a day), but we couldn’t be certain. So, back to the house, grab dog #2, return to the clinic, where the process of stomach pumping and fore-feeding charcoal was repeated. Since Kaylee’s only probably fault was hanging around with a bad element, this seemed unfair, but we had to be sure.

The upshot was, both dogs were fine, and we got them back mid-day, their faces stained black from the charcoal. They are both doing well, and show only one side effect: Kachoo now eats the charcoal briquettes I use for grilling outside.

NP: James McMurty, “Cheney’s Toy”