Friday Ephemera (725)
My first thought was coffee maker. || A manhole cover protrudes, a tiny beep is heard. || Big bunker bared. || A somewhat ungardenly garden. || Gruesome shoe death. || Oh, the glamour of Hollywood. || I hear tiny hooves. || Bag of soup transportation tip. || Ectoplasmic happenings. I did this one at school. || At last, how to cook a kitten. || There was smoke, some shouting. || Shoulders and hair, girls. Shoulders and hair. || Unwelcome guest. || Unwelcome guest 2. || A downloadable compendium of Weird Tales, 1923-1954. || Competence under trying circumstances. || A situation has arisen. || For the larger gentleman. || They’re always in the last place you look. || And frankly, who here hasn’t? || Fiddling with focal length. || Don’t tell your mother about the bath-time fort.
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The road to the robot apocalypse may have a few bumps.
Method acting has gotten out of hand.
Timing is everything in life.
On the bright side, cleanup should be easy.
[ Applause ]
Oh, the glamour of Hollywood.
Why you can almost hear the Beach Boys playing in the background.
A downloadable compendium of Weird Tales, 1923-1954.
My friend’s dad had a couple of boxes of these. We would pick our favourite stories and make Super 8 horror movies.
Fiddling with focal length.
I took up photography in my middle teens. A friend worked at a camera shop and he finagled a great discount for his friends. My first camera was a Nikkormat FT2, the poor man’s Nikon F. It was a solidly built camera, could probably survive a direct nuclear hit. My prized lens was an 85 mm Nikkor. An awesome portrait lens. I couldn’t afford much more so I bought a 2x converter that turned it into a 170 mm telephoto lens, so between that and the 50 mm lens that came with the camera I was all set for anything. The downside of a 2x converter was it slowed your camera speed down considerably because all the f-stops were doubled. Fortunately you could buy 800 ASA film which helped. I took a lot of concert photos. The only negatives that survived were from a Frank Zappa concert at Maple Leaf Gardens. I miss that camera. I traded it in for a Nikon FE that I still have today. I think I’d rather have the FT2 back.
That was unexpected! At least, the colour, like something you’d pay a lot of noney for in a marine aquarium shop.
Eww
We did that one at school too but we pushed down on the head first. Still not sure how it works.
Read downthread. They explain it.
Morning, all.
I think everyone involved coped rather well, all things considered. And I did like the, “It’s okay, I’m a midwife.” Lest the situation be confused with some entirely different drama.
Thanks, dicentra.
Clubbing, 1970.
Valeria, “she/her,” thinks you shouldn’t object to this.
I think the people behaving this way should get their shoulders dislocated.
Note that Valeria doesn’t understand why people might have to get to work.
Note, too, that the preening dolts doing this – trying to trap random people and stopping from getting to work – are unlikely to face meaningful consequences. Unlike, say, children riding scooters on a Pride-painted crosswalk.
“Panties”
Does rather give the game away.
“Sensory garden” = concrete and a wet metal bench.
Good work, guys.
Oh, come now. There’s also a tub of dead flowers.
Perhaps it’s intended as a place to contemplate existential meaninglessness. I mean, it is managed by a British train company, presumably for their customers. So I suppose it’s on-brand.
Kindness repaid.
Not entirely unrelated: “A sanctuary from miscreants.”
Musical interlude. Crank those speakers, baby.
Cluster B in a nutshell: choose someone smaller to pick on, pretend to be vulnerable to parasitize others’ labor, reciprocate with predation.
THE HELL IS THAT
No, don’t thank me. All part of the service.
A miracle foretold:
Mark your calendars.
Very insightful comment – the group of people who don’t get membership, are mostly not bad people. But that group includes pretty much 100% of shoplifters and criminals. And you would rather lose revenues from that group, even though the majority of that group may be ok.
That beautifully explains why people are racist, why in some Asian countries countries certain “minority” religion areas are avoided by others, why taxi drivers in NY refuse to pick up black passengers.
And why that nonsense about “not all xyz are bad” is rubbish. If you can minimise exposure to potential ungrateful lemonade thieves by cutting off exposure to 20% of the population, you would do it.
Hmm. Would that work with squirrels?
[ Summons squirrels from trees, issues instructions. ]
Great example of anarcho-tyranny in action. If they were blocking access to an abortion clinic the police would be handing out wooden shampoos left and right and they’d be facing 15 to 20 in a federal penitentiary.
As all the cool kids are saying on socials… realise where we are.
For accuracy they should rename it to the ‘Post War Britain Sensory Garden’, I think a Victorian or Edwardian sensory garden would be quite a different and much more enjoyable thing, even if confined to a train station.
LOL
But seriously WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?
I have to say, some of you are difficult to please.
I was waiting for a tapeworm to come out.
Not sure I can improve on Iowahawk’s Pilgrim Bagpipe Fartcore music. Seems to cover it.
I saw the word “panties”, got all excited and then clicked.
Yeah, yeah, I know. No refunds, credit note only.
[ Wipes bar, whistles nonchalantly. ]
Well, it’s an increasingly commonplace tactic among Those So Inclined. The initiators of the aggression can pretend that what they’re doing, for kicks, isn’t actually violence, while depending entirely on intimidation, mob coercion and physical aggression. And should their targets react physically to such provocation – say, by punching the aggressors – then Those So Inclined will loudly declare their victimhood and promptly do their utmost to have their targets arrested.
Their spite is recreational and therefore without any obvious limit.
See also this, which includes some rather telling examples.
Of course, in a morally realistic society, Those So Inclined would have their teeth shattered against the nearest kerbstone. As a reminder to check their narcissism.
A project for the weekend?
Do let us know how it goes.
To be fair, once you find them, you stop looking.
Miracles, everywhere.
Wife says no. 🙁
Doesn’t understand much of anything. Probably another trust fund baby.
Try selling it as a romantic evening in. Ladies, I gather, like that kind of thing.
What?
[ Sounds of womenfolk gathering hoses, making ultrabong. ]
[ Sounds of womenfolk screaming as they fall out over the choice of fabric for the ultrabongs’ neck cushions. ]
Band name.
How much you wanna bet a disproportionate percentage of these are the source of most of the bullshit?
How to blend a puppy? Glenn Reynolds has yet to reveal his smoothie recipe.
Merely praying nearby, without blocking anything, can earn one a prison sentence.
Thanks, liberals, your betrayal of civilization is noted.
Sounds like the frog here after a good rainstorm
Hey, now, one of my favorite memories of my second trip to UK is about a British train company.
We had been use to showing up on the platform with our bicycles, slinging them in the baggage van, and boarding. Easy-peasy.
Departing from ? heading for York, we get to the platform as usual. Officious looking uniformed man approaches, frowning. “Are you traveling to York?” Yes. “It’s an express. Bicycles not allowed unless packed.” We panic a bit. “Hmm. I tell you what…when the train comes in, I’ll be out of sight. You go to the baggage van and ask the conductor as you have been doing. If he doesn’t see me, I expect he will allow you to board.” Profuse thanks from us.
And it worked just as he said. (c. 1986)
Valeria, “she/her,” thinks you shouldn’t object to this.
I don’t understand why those who are discommoded don’t simply hit down hard with their briefcase/bag on the idiots’ wrists. Sore arms and, hopefully, a few broken bones would soon restore peace.
Seen over at Ace’s, Goodness Gracious Great Balls Of Fire!
Careful who you invite to live among you.
The commentary tut-tutting about big American cars and especially trucks is amusing. What’s better is the puzzlement as to why the airbags didn’t deploy. Even after some not quite perfect explanations but explanations good enough to at least turn on that lightbulb in a moderately thinkable person.
I checked out one of those bunkers in the Cinque Terra area of Italy once. Seemed like the perfect place to be stationed. I imagined sending in an occasional false sighting to suggest/justify keeping oneself stationed there. Especially if invasions were happening elsewhere.
From Clubbing, 1970.
They tried to ruin a few nights in the 1980’s as well. I wouldn’t let them tho.
I’ll just leave this here.
I was thinking they should be strangled with their keffiyehs but dislocated joints works too.
Probably because she doesn’t have much in the way of responsibilites.
At least some degree of real effort was put into that. There was a time…again the 80’s thing…when I would have found that funny/cool/amusing, now these sorts of things are so prevalent and the surrounding culture so surreal that surrealism has lost its charm. Yeah, GOML and stuff but…don’t people have work to do? Oh, right….
My coffee curdled.
My college roommate, the Chinese/Jamaican 14 yo genius kid one with only four fingers on his left hand put you up to this, didn’t he? C’mon, fess up.
[ Wipes bar, whistles nonchalantly. ]
Ascites is often a sign of liver failure.
A miracle foretold:
Looks a bit old to be preggers. I guess menopause isn’t a thing in the AGP world.
A manhole cover protrudes, a tiny beep is heard.
I probably shouldn’t be laughing as hard as I am, and should probably stop hitting replay, but that is danged funny.
[ Rolls sticky, fluff-covered Polo mint to ComputerLabRat. ]
from the dictionary:
Ironic name for someone with such a badly damaged brain.
I like how the quasi-attractive French woman just leans against the pole, watching the event unfold. Such style and such that those Frenchies are known for.
We’re here aren’t we?
Even a measured suggestion that a developed, high-trust society might have cause to be selective in who it admits is now likely to result in gasps and name-calling. It appears to be far outside of the permissible discourse of our betters. Which, I’d suggest, is a measure of just how unrealistic our society has become.
Without some selectivity in admission, that high-trust society will quite soon become a low-trust society. A society in which people stand about watching a disabled man being mugged.
While pretending, one might say symbolically, that it isn’t happening.
The miracle of a pillar of salt is in order.
The chief reason for the reluctance to “get involved” is that good citizens are likely to be punished for doing what should be done, and in fact punished more severely than the muggers. In a healthy society it would be entirely legal for bystanders to, without warning, hit that mugger on the head with a truncheon and to keep hitting him until he is no longer a threat and no longer resists. Instead, “liberal” intellectuals and lawyers and politicians have made it very dangerous to intervene.
Only strong men who know how to fight can safely begin an intervention by merely telling a mugger to stop (which is what liberals demand.) Such tactics only endanger those who cannot fight.
unlikely to face meaningful consequences
“Red Rover, Red Rover, we call Daniel over!”
…
“Dude. You’re supposed to aim for the arms.“
“You play the game your way, I’ll play it mine.”
Friday night is Ladies’ Night.
As a proud member of the now defunct International Hurling Society I approve.
Perhaps a moral for our time: The reason Caesar took over Rome was because in the latter days of the Republic it had become customary to exile/imprison former politicians and military leaders after their service, to remove them as competition. Caesar asked the senate to assure his safety if he disbanded his army. They refused. That is when his line “the die is cast” was uttered and he marched on Rome.
.
As the Empire later began to disintegrate (like 300AD), historians have found increasing numbers of criminals executed or otherwise punished because the authorities were losing control.
My first thought was coffee maker.
It is not actually cleaning her ears, it is removing impacted garbage from her brain. Immediately after this procedure the woman in the video married a nice young man with a good work ethic, had kids young, stayed home and homeschooled them, and started voting for Trump.
OK, who makes these things? Where can I order a couple…dozen? They work on men as well, I presume?
If you let stoners lead you, you shouldn’t be surprised where you end up.
I like how the quasi-attractive French woman just leans against the pole, watching the event unfold.
Well, the world saw what happened to Daniel Penny after a member of the Protected Class terrorized a subway car full of people. If you’re not muslim and/or your skin color is at the wrong end of the Pantone chart, you have to know you’re looking at prison time for intervening.
[ Rolls sticky, fluff-covered Polo mint to ComputerLabRat. ]
[ eyes the fuzzy Lifesaver-like confection with trepidation ]
On the one hand, very interesting.
On the other hand, what I think you’re looking for is Ivermectin. Along with eliminating particular forms of contact with our youth
In this exciting episode of “Today In Homophobia™“: Street signs.
No, seriously, and BTW, please ignore the “Baby Gay” thing, only a pedophobe would think it meant anything.
The signs were posted because of large numbers of gay men cruising: Driving up and down those streets looking for sex. The signs were no different than similar measures taken in many cities to deal with large numbers of teens cruising up and down streets, blocking traffic and behaving badly.
Thus, the signs had to come down because interfering with anything gays do, no matter how objectionable, is homophobic.
Conclusion: Laws against antisocial and even deadly behavior are homophobic or racist and islamophobic. Which tells us what the activists think being gay or black or muslim is really all about.
Note: In some big cities, “cruising” has become a serious crime problem, with fights and shootings between groups of kids. And with threats and actual violence directed at innocent people who just want to be able to drive down the streets without being impeded by large numbers of slow-moving or stopped cars. If this bothers you, you are a racist.
“Highly cultivated”? Really?
“Highly cultivated”? Really?
The meme is mixing the early and later seasons. It’s important to realize two things about TBBT: One, it’s a Chuck Lorre show, which means everyone is a loser at first (in the first three seasons, Penny was depicted as an airheaded party girl) and two, after the third season the producers realized the primary audience demographic wasn’t male nerds, it was middle-aged wine moms who thought the nerds were adorkable. Hence the show got retooled quickly from being The IT Crowd to Reba.
So the meme is mixing up the Penny and Leonard of the early seasons with the audience shipping of the later seasons.
As good an explanation as any.
Ok, laddies, time for an intervention. You’ve gone WAY too far this time.
I didn’t see the punchline coming.
I first encountered it collapsed, with only a few lines of Eriksen’s post showing, so I saw the illustration, and I’d seen the illustration in separate tweets.
I never thought of it as a punchline, but yeah. It works.
From the subsequent thread, this Atlantic article, In which Ms Xochitl Gonzalez tries to induce racial guilt in “rich people” – by which she means white people – who prefer not to live among continual noise and general rudeness. Ms Gonzalez, who repeatedly mentions how “minority” and “of colour” she is, also tells us how she, “just wanted to be around people in places where nobody told us to shush.”
Say, when being an annoyance to neighbours, a thing that happens repeatedly, or when playing music in a library. Where other people are trying to study.
Apparently, it’s okay for people of certain hues to prefer the company of others with compatible standards and boundaries, or a lack thereof, but not for people of other hues. When Ms Gonzalez does it, it’s liberating, you see. What with her being “of colour,” and therefore terribly oppressed. But when white people do it – say, to get away from selfish bints like Ms Gonzalez – it’s by implication racist.
Ms Gonzalez tries to blame her own shortcomings on other people’s race and class, as if, by expecting politeness, they were imposing on her in cruel and unusual ways. Because – magic words – “of colour.” But the common variable, the one that’s hard to miss, is the author’s own rudeness and self-absorption. And so, she blunders into the library’s “Absolutely Quiet Room,” and fires up her music.
Ms Gonzalez then tells us that the “absence of noise” – by which she means, consideration for others – is “at odds with who I was. Who a lot of us were.” And yet she wonders why other people – less selfish people – might want to get away from her. And to live somewhere she doesn’t.
And the Atlantic publishes this – this ode to antisocial selfishness – as if it would leave us morally improved.
“Collection of work”? Singular “work”? Wouldn’t it be a “compilation of essays” or suchlike?
No awareness that noise and silence are mutually exclusive, so those who prefer quiet and those who like it lively can’t really inhabit the same space and do their respective things.
Also, quiet means you’re studying and boisterousness means you’re not, and given you’re at a university, which aesthetic ought to win out?
Here’s a hint: If I go to a bar and ask them to turn OFF the racket because I prefer quiet when socializing, am I or am I not out of line?
So much Cluster B.
Well, indeed. One of the many things to have somehow not crossed our author’s mind. Or her editor’s mind.
And despite the repeated invocations of victimhood, of being some put-upon minority, it’s hard to avoid the suspicion that Ms Gonzalez’ flirtation with Pulitzer prestige, like many other things, may be related to her “of colour” status. Rather than, say, an ability to think coherently. Or to fathom her own motives.
Right, off to Beloved Sister-In-Law’s for brunch. I may be heavier when I get back.
Lucky.
I fear I would be a head lighter.
Another blame-the-thing-that- gives-us-power rather than what we do with the power. The same could be said for universities and libraries and fiction and sport and…dare I say…guns. The scale is different but it’s the same problem.
The first weird thing I stumbled onto on the early popularization of the internet in the mid-90’s while looking for a Carrabas (which I misspelled, which was how I got there because these freaks had misspelled it the same way) were grown men being “babies”. With a couple of “mommies” to care for them. Weird sex fetishes found ways to find each other. Normal people (whatever that means) just heard about it so rarely that it didn’t impact us as much. But more importantly, children were not as easily exposed. That is the real issue.
Using logic and reason to confront people playing a power game. It’s not about the understanding, it’s about them taking over your space. Ultimately there shall be no space for anyone who doesn’t accept and submit to their power. In a contest between irresistible force and irrefutable logic, in the real world force wins. It’s simply physics.
?? And yet when, on the rare occasions when I turn the dial to that show the ads seem to be aimed at the “youth” demographic.
And even in the later seasons Leonard doesn’t show any cultural awareness beyond pulp sci-fi and comics, as if he wouldn’t know Dostoevsky from Dickens.