Posts Tagged 'climate'

THIS JUST IN

I was planning to answer another question from Gregory Stock’s book today, when I was pleasantly interrupted by this email, forwarded to me by one of my Singletons friends.  I would say I wish could come up with something like this, but I don’t think anyone could make this up.  And it would be downright selfish of me not to share it with you:

Men are from Mars…

Here’s a prime example of Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus.  It is offered by an English professor from the University of Colorado as an actual class assignment:

A Creative Writing professor told his class one day: “Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story.  The process is simple.  Each person will pair off with the person sitting next to his or her desk.

“As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story.  You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me.  The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending a copy to me.  The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth.

“Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent.  There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail.  The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.”

The following was actually turned in by two of his English students:

Rebecca (PINK)

Bill (BLUE)

THE STORY

(first paragraph by Rebecca)

At first, Laurie couldn’t decide which kind of tea she wanted.  The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile.  But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl.  His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again.  So chamomile was out of the question.

(second paragraph by Bill)

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago.  “A.S. Harris to Geostation 17,” he said into his transgalactic communicator.  “Polar orbit established.  No sign of resistance so far…”  But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship’s cargo bay.  The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

(Rebecca)

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him.  Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4.  “Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel,” Laurie read in her newspaper one morning.  The news simultaneously excited her and bored her.  She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her.  “Why must one lose one’s innocence to become a woman?” she pondered wistfully.

(Bill)

Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live.  Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu’udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles.  The dimwitted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the Congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race.  Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu’udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet.  With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan.  The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded.  The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized even poor, stupid Laurie.

(Rebecca)

This is absurd.  I refuse to continue this mockery of literature.  My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.

(Bill)

Yeah?  Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.  “Oh, shall I have chamomile tea?  Or shall I have some other kind of FUCKING TEA???  Oh no, what am I to do?  I’m such an air headed bimbo.  I guess I’ve read too many Danielle Steele novels!”

(Rebecca)

Asshole.

(Bill)

Bitch!

(Rebecca)

FUCK YOU – YOU NEANDERTHAL!

(Bill)

In your dreams, Ho.  Go drink some tea.

(TEACHER)

A+ – I really liked this one.

AN APPEAL TO TROPICAL STORM DEBBIE

Dear Debbie,

Such a sweet name you have.  The National Hurricane Center spells your name Debby, but it’s sweet either way.  It reminds me of a beautiful, sweet girl I knew in high school I lost.  On the drive to our first and only date, we got into a silly argument over religion or politics (can’t remember which).  And she and I being equally opinionated, we never went out again.  Now she’s married, so I’ve lost her forever. 

Looking out my sliding-glass door, I see you are grazing us with your presence here in Escambia County, Florida.  And I appreciate this.  Only thing is, Debbie, we were inundated with record-breaking rainfall here, earlier this month.  Any more rain, and we may drown.

So if you have to make landfall at all, please land elsewhere.  Texas can probably use some rain.  Please grace Texas with your presence–then move into New Mexico and Colorado, where you would not only be welcome but highly appreciated. 

And wherever you land, and hover, be gentle, be sweet–like America’s Sweetheart.

Sincerely,

Scott

DRUNKEN POST #7

Yes, it’s that time of week again!  Three (almost four beers) and ten cups Irish coffee!  (Don’t worry–I don’t drink the Irish coffee till I get home, and don’t dare drive till the next day.)  The Singletons ate at an Oriental place this evening–wonderful dinner!  Then several of them went to see Men in Black III.  Now I’ve just seen Men in Black, and it was good enough–don’t see any reason to watch any sequels.  Sequels are almost never as good as the originals.  The Matrix is the best example–I hated the sequels, mainly because there’s almost no time actually spent in the Matrix itself!  The only film whose sequels were as good as the original was Star Trek: The Motion Picture.  That’s it!  Filmmakers should learn to quit while their ahead!  Anyway, I don’t know why anyone goes to theaters to see movies anymore.  The screens are too small, for one thing (except with IMAX of course)–and we now have DVD and Blu-ray, so we can watch movies at home!  I never even liked taking dates to movie theaters–never knowing whether I should put my arm around their shoulders, but mostly not being able to converse with them.  These days, it’s best to watch movies alone.  In the past, people had no choice–but now we do.  There’s no social interaction in watching movies–no conversation–everyone’s focused on the screen.  To hell with that!  With dinner, there’s social interaction.  At parties/dances, there’s social interaction.  I see kids walking around in groups, on cellphones!  What the hell?  What’s the point in hangin’ with your friends if you’re busy talking to someone who’s not there, on a goddamned cellphone?  I really despise cellphones–and feel that usage of them should be completely banned, especially while driving.  In my opinion, the cellphone is the most socially destructive invention of all time–even moreso than television!  But I’ve mentioned this before.

My dog is terrified, not only of thunder, but of rain!  And Florida is literally the Thunderstorm State!  (That “Sunshine State” logo is one of the biggest scams of all time–there are more thunderstorms, year-round in Florida than in any other state in the U.S., this is a documented fact!)  But still I refuse to return her.  She’s too good a dog.  She has no behavioral problems at all, just quirks, as every dog does.  I wouldn’t return her (to the agency from which I adopted her) unless it were absolutely necessary.  She has developed the habit of getting on my bed when I’m gone for more than an hour or so, but I just have to shut my bedroom door.  And this is only because she wants to be around me.  Even in her adoption notes, it’s said she’d follow you wherever you go–and that’s quite true.  She wants to be wherever I am.  And how can I not be flattered–even touched by this?

I shaved off the Amish beard mentioned in my previous drunken post–even that was annoying me (irritating my skin–I have a very wiry beard for some reason).  In fact, I got a Bruce Willis style haircut yesterday–and it feels wonderful!  It is so hot and humid here in Northwest Florida, and the longer my hair, the hotter my head!  If I lived in Alaska or Siberia or Scandinavia, maybe I’d let my hair grow out to it’s full glory in the wintertime (and it really is my best physical feature–very much like Ted Danson’s).  But we don’t even have a winter here anymore–global warming is absolutely real, and it is increasing exponentially!  I wasn’t convinced of global warming until Hurricane Ivan hit here in 2004, I’ve been convinced ever since.  The planet is naturally entering a warm phase–the only question is how much we humans are aggravating it.

Here I am getting all philosophical again!  I considered changing my Gravatar profile earlier, but feel I should wait till I’m sober.  I could put an actual picture of myself on it, but don’t feel safe enough to do that yet.  Hell, I haven’t even joined Facebook, though a long-distance friend of mine has been urging me to join it.  I did consider it, at one time–but decided against it after reading its vague disclosure policies.  Why should I give my personal information to an impersonal corporation?  It’s dangerous enough to have a blog.  Sure, if someone is out to get you badly enough, he/she will try–but why make it easier?  (Reminds me of the line from Nirvana’s Territorial Pissings: “Just because you’re paranoid don’t mean they’re not after you”–that is so funny, and so true!)

I’ve been listening to a box set of Johnny Cash CD’s I recently purchased, and will next listen to a double-CD of Al Jolson songs.  I have the most eclectic musical taste of anyone I know!  You want to hear something really wild, get the Pat Boone (yes, Pat Boone) CD, In a Metal Mood: No More Mr. Nice Guy.  It’s the only Pat Boone album I have, and the only one I’d ever get!  He does big-band/swing takes on classic heavy metal songs–my favorite is his take on Metallica’s Enter Sandman, which sounds better than Metallica’s original!  Some of the lyrics he changes: particularly in Nazareth’s Love Hurts.  And the changes make sense.  In the original, Love is like a flame that burns you when it’s hot.  Well, every flame is hot!  So he changes flame to stove, which makes alot more sense!  The only take on his album I really hate is that of Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven.  His take is wonderful up to the next-to-last line.  He changes, When all are one and one is all to When three-in-one is all-in-all (an unmistakable reference to the Trinity) and that ruins it!  Even with that subtle change, one of the Christian TV networks (TBN I think) fired Pat Boone, discontinuing his Gospel America show.  And it was only after he explained that the heavy metal album was a joke that they finally forgave him, and let him back on their network.  But it wasn’t a joke.  Even in the liner notes, he thanks his wife for not divorcing him.  I had alot of respect for Pat Boone after he did that CD–but lost it when he claimed he wasn’t serious in making it.  One should stick to his/her ideals, and should never give-in to public pressure.  Anyway, I still highly recommend Pat Boone’s In a Metal Mood: No More Mr. Nice Guy CD–it’s probably the most original album ever made by anyone!

I’m in the mood for Fran Drescher–I don’t know how many episodes of The Nanny I’ve watched just to see this woman in action, even her naturally whiny voice turns me on!

 


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