Category: genius

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I’ve Got A Headache

A lovely centered picture of a rollercoaster.

Friends,

I really will get back to the science and the future and whatnot, but please allow a moment for this public service announcement:

When you go to Knott’s Berry Farm to have a lot of fun with people whose company you enjoy and you’d like to not be a wet blanket, I strongly recommend that you not ride the Boomerang. It will beat your brains out. First, I’m too tall and didn’t fit in the seat. Second, because I didn’t fit, I had to sit up too high which moved my head above the cushions on the restraint hoop. Third, riders pull 5.2 g* going forward AND in reverse. Fourth, I have an ungainly and too large head with not enough strength in my neck to keep this melon from bouncing around at 5.2 g. Fifth, this really isn’t anybody’s fault but my own.

Also, I had something to write here, but I can remember what it might’ve been.

Your pal,

– bob

* The unit of measure for g-force is styled with a lowercase g. Uppercase G is for the gravitational constant. You’re welcome!

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It’s Time To Think About Zoogz Rift

A lovely centered picture of Zoogz Rift.

Friends,

At this particular point in history, with a weakened economy, social unrest brewing, multiple ongoing wars and uneasy international alliances, it’s important to remember our great American heroes. Their voices may have been stifled while they were alive, but in retrospect the pronouncements made through their art seem even more prescient.

To understand the architecture of despotism, or even authoritarian regimes, one need only look as far as the work of Zoogz Rift. From this fellow’s website, follow the links to a large sampling of Mr. Rift’s oeuvre, then sample his important policy statements like his Secret Marines Suite, or his indictment of throwaway consumer culture in Art Band.



Testify.

– bob

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Mr. Bigshot Linguist

Yeah, right. Sure.
Friends,

I went to a local branch of Stinko’s bank this afternoon to deposit a payment for services. My colleague at the Far Eastern Outpost of San Diego’s Omnipresent Charitable Organization wanted some framing materials and the local purveyors of framey bits wanted a dishonest fortune. Double what the CEO of Chicago, Illinois’ very own Bell Studio was asking. Why? Who knows, but they lost the sale nonetheless.

The check was cut, I got the account number, and sidled up to the teller window. “This number is too long,” the teller worried. “Oh, it’s an account in Chicago, their numbers are longer. It’s for my brother’s business.” Because they absorbed some other bank and kept the numbering system there, I guess. I’ve been through this before and could look like some sort of financial industry genius offering the information without the details.

“I see it,” as she scanned her screen and read the results, “Bell Studio, Paul …” She decided not to struggle with our very foreign last name, but I offered the pronunciation anyway. “TERIO” “Um, sure, whatever.” Then a pause.

“Oh right. You’re the brother. I guess you’d know.”

Yes. I think I might.

– bob