Friday Ephemera
Do try this at home and let us know how it goes. || Giants among us. || Made of chocolate. || Kitchen contentment. || Cosplay of note. || I can’t be entirely sure, but I think he’s looking at you. || An interview with Heather Mac Donald. || Somewhat unimpressed. || A Muhammadan holy man speaks. (h/t, Damian) || “Khomeini was not Iranian. He was a Hindu living in Britain.” || Today’s word is burn. (h/t, Darleen) || On complicated bin collection. || Metamorphosing beetle of note. || He folds paper better than you do. || A cappella Deep Note. || “It sounds like your ass cheeks are too close together.” || The timing’s a little out, but still. || Intersection. || This happened. || The doomsday bunkers of your dreams. (h/t, Things) || And finally, fashionably, raincoats for your trainers.
A Muhammadan holy man speaks
“Left-liberals might like to bear in mind the existence of views like these when judging the historical record of the West.”
Robert Wadlow’s unfortunate demise:
How sad. He died at 22 from something that would have been easily treatable with penicillin a decade later.
I wonder about the efficacy and secrecy of a “bug out” local which is advertised all over the internet and, in the case of the South Dakota compound, visible from space.
visible from space.
I remember seeing one that was a converted from an abandoned, hardened (nuke-proofed) ICBM silo, which was indeed, visible from space. A 13-year-old boy’s dream home.
“Giants among us.”
I remember being impressed by pictures of Robert Wadlow while reading through the Guinness Book of Records as a kid. (Isn’t there one of him meeting the shortest person known at the time?) Given that average heights have increased over the decades, it’s surprising that he’s still the tallest person ever recorded, though.
Mind you, I’m just looking at my ceiling here, a generous Edwardian 10′ or so. 8’11” is pretty bloody tall.
“Cosplay of note.”
Now, that’s clever.
“On complicated bin collection.”
As anyone who’s seen the Penn & Teller Bullshit episode on it (which I can’t recommend highly enough) can attest, it’s hard to escape the conclusion that the creation of petty, awkward, and tiresome rules is the entire purpose of enforced recycling.
“Metamorphosing beetle of note.”
“The beetle froms a pupal chamber out of its own faeces and…”
Next!
“The timing’s a little out, but still.”
Awww. The little fella looks so happy.
“Intersection.”
Looks like one of my attempts in Cities: Skylines, only with more trees. (Assuming none of those vehicles is actually moving.)
“And finally, fashionably, raincoats for your trainers.”
Just goes to show. Wait long enough, and everything makes a comeback. Even spats.
Be off, extraneous “a”.
I bet the beetle got brownie points from the city council for his great recycling job.
Re Robert Wadlow: a famous person, I can’t remember who, died in the 18th century from a mosquito bite that got infected. People in the antibiotic era mostly have no idea how easy it was to contract a fatal infection.
bunkers of your dreams
Hmmmm… the dream goes sideways.
People in the antibiotic era mostly have no idea how easy it was to contract a fatal infection.
Why Cal got more silent.
Do try this at home and let us know how it goes.
I don’t own a unitard so I’ll have to pass.
“It sounds like your ass cheeks are too close together.”
Good grief:
“Despite OCT lawyer Christine Wadsworth‘s statement that the reprimand was “a serious consequence,” Green-Johnson will be able to get her job back after the suspension is up and she takes anger management courses.”
Who wants to teach that class?
A cappella Deep Note. || “It sounds like your ass cheeks are too close together.”
ISWYDT
Positions.
I think that in the interest of entertaining the patrons, instead of saying “Do try this,” our host ought to climb atop the bar and try it himself.
Use a seat cushion, though, as the original Crackrobat did. Don’t try to catch the Incinererator that way. Also try to borrow the Crackrobat’s assistant. I got a real kick out of that guy. After the feat is accomplished, he turns to the camera with an oh-foolish-doubters gesture.
If you are wondering why I’m dispensing sage advice at this ungodly hour, it’s because I just woke up from a weird dream about decadent 18th-century Frenchmen. I don’t even know anything about decadent 18th-century Frenchmen. The only decadent Frenchmen I can think of, at least at oh-dark-thirty, were de Sade and Rimbaud, and they were 19th century. At least Rimbaud was—he makes a guest appearance in one of the Monstrumologist books.
I’m going back to bed in hopes the 2nd feature will be better.
ISWYDT
This is my innocent face.
Morning, all.
Oh, yeah, I see I forgot Baudelaire.
Sorry, Charlie.
@pogonip
Was it Lord Carnarvon, who sponsored the Tutankhamun expedition?
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Herbert,_5th_Earl_of_Carnarvon#Death
I believe so. His failure to prove himself worthy to the gods ,by catching the traditional thrown seat cushion with no hands , is what is generally thought to have caused King Tut’s Curse to kick in.
I mean that his lordship was supposed to catch the seat cushion using no hands, not that the seat cushion itself had no hands. I’m missing an Oxford comma somewhere, I think. I’m going back to bed. I will say Hello to Guy de Maupassant for everyone.
This just in:
You may now resume your non-woke lives.
“I don’t own a unitard”
There’s literally tons of them at your local college’s Clown Quarter departments.
Oh, very good, PiperPaul. Very good indeed.
The doomsday bunkers of your dreams.
Before buying, you’d really want to be sure that any potential enemy knew that that missile silo had been decommissioned. A several megaton nuclear warhead through the letterbox would really ruin your day. Not my idea of fun.
“Darling, I think there’s someone at the door…”
“Yes, dear. That’ll be our nuke neighbours”.
[ Fetches stool of shame. ]
Great moments in solving the problem of not being inclusive enough.
A Muhammadan holy man speaks.
Along similar lines, how to have a nice fashion show without the risk of shameless sharmuten showing an ankle.
The bin collection reminds me of this
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qcdNaajKExs
burn
Oh, no. The most epic burn is the first season of unReal, which is a roman a clef for Marti Noxon’s affair with Joss Whedon.
Let’s just say the character of “Chet” doesn’t come off looking great.
“Left-liberals might like to bear in mind the existence of views like these when judging the historical record of the West.”
Are there polls showing how common such views are in Kuwait or elsewhere? I have gotten the impression that they are far from uncommon, but cannot recall any solid statistics.
And finally, fashionably, raincoats for your trainers.
Way back when I was a wee lass, those things were called “rubbers” or “rubber overshoes” or “galoshes” and were extremely ugly ill-fitting black stretchy rubber things you put over your church shoes to protect them, because in New England, like Old England, it rains a lot. And you only got one pair of shoes, so we had to wear our rubbers if the weather was bad. Ye gods I hated those things.
Now “rubbers” are something completely different, although the idea is similar
I see they still make the ugly black rubber things for shoes – thought they would have gone the way of the buggy whip. And now they make fashionable Ziploc baggies for shoes, too!
Way back when I was a wee lass, those things were called “rubbers”
[ Fetches comfy chair and footstool for ComputerLabRat. ]
Way back when I was a wee lass, those things were called “rubbers” or “rubber overshoes” or “galoshes…”
Yea, verily, I had some as well, though my mother somehow thought it would be fun if mine were fire engine red. You would stick your pant legs into them to keep them dry as well and then “buckle” the things by folding one side over and attaching an elastic cord to a button. That, together will the yellow raincoat and matching S’wester style at completed the ensemble.
As I looked at myself in the mirror on the way out one morning, I made the decision to stop trusting my mother with respect to fashion decisions.
I was six.
“Great moments in solving the problem of not being inclusive enough.”
You laugh, but the removal of some white and yellow pixels from a tiny bitmap is an actual news story worth reporting, according to Sky.
So… can we stick a fork in Unicode and say it’s done yet? I mean, it’s a brilliant standard but back in the ASCII days I’m pretty sure nobody ever said, “Dammit, why isn’t there a character for vegan salad?”
The thought occurs to me that, for the Consortium, emojis have become like those stupid formulae for the perfect sandwich that scientists keep coming up with: a way to get into the news and remind people that they exist.
Galoshes
Right, I’m heading out for a birthday gathering. Play nicely. Use coasters.
Way back when I was a wee lass, those things were called “rubbers” or “rubber overshoes” or “galoshes…”
Which led to jokes in the sixties about not leaving home without your rubbers.
You laugh…
Well, it is either that or look for a mountain top that I can surround with triple strand concertina and claymores to keep out the people in the world that exist and actually care enough about this crap to make an issue of being offended by a pixel salad.
The wonders of the 20th century – hieroglyphics used to send telegrams on telephones capable of live video conferencing.
In case you were wondering where the name came from:
https://www.gocomics.com/calvinandhobbes/1987/01/10/
The move comes as the Unicode Consortium, which chooses and creates new emojis, launched 157 new icons this week.
Seriously, who does this? What must the qualifications be? Do people who do that actually put it on their resumes?
Back when this emoji crap started catching on, I was trying to message a small line of code, a short variable name actually, to a coworker of mine and somehow or other, unbeknownst to me she was seeing a glass of beer. She thought I was suggesting happy hour or something…which made for a very awkward exchange at first that then devolved into a series of apparent non-sequiturs until we both figured out what was going on.
“In case you were wondering where the name came from:”
It’s funny: Bill Watterson so hated the pared-down “talking head” style of strip cartoon, yet that’s about as close as he ever came to it and it’s one of his best. (Of course, lesser artists would have been unable to resist insulting the readers’ intelligence with a speech bubble in the last panel.)
I still say these new things are spats, though. Granted, old-style spats didn’t have soles, but galoshes are more substantial.
…the people in the world that exist and actually care enough about this crap to make an issue of being offended by a pixel salad.
I don’t care enough to be offended, but I had to laugh at the wag who observed that it was typical of a woke committee to demonstrate its commitment to diversity by removing the offensive whites from the picture.
Also, I note that none of the 157 new icons is a proper < sarc> tag.
“Try this at home” But can he catch a mantis shrimp between his cheeks?
…but I had to laugh at the wag who observed that it was typical of a woke committee to demonstrate its commitment to diversity by removing the offensive whites from the picture.
(cough)battletech(cough)
…demonstrate its commitment to diversity by removing the offensive whites…
Don’t forget, it also removed the offensive yellows, which is no doubt a reference to the need to reduce the over-representation of Asians in STEM and tech fields.
Just when you thought feminists couldn’t get any dumber, they go and do this..
https://pjmedia.com/instapundit/299004/
Great. Another bit of umbrage from the PoCs – wypipo eating fried bologna sammiches.
The ignorance of these SJWs knows no bounds. When I was a wee Muldoon bologna sammiches were a staple, fried bologna a treat, everybody ate it (it was served in schools – even the segregated white ones), it was never a “black” thing, any more than braided hair, hoop earrings, or fried chicken.
It never dawns on these idiots how good life must be for them to have to make up such trivial things about which to fret.
Funny, I thought bologna sandwiches were supposed to be a prime example of the blandness of white devils.
And “struggle food”? If it requires refrigeration…
FFS – ‘trendy’ eateries serve stuff like fried bologna sandwiches is because it is comfort food … not some half-assed “cultural appropriated struggle food”.
I insisted on pb&j sandwiches throughout gradeschool because I didn’t like room-temp bologna. But I loved fried bologna sandwiches for a weekend lunch. As Farnsworth says, it was a treat.
Bologna was ubiquitous – from urban delis to suburban supermarkets … long before even this 1973 ad.