Ice cream cone turner
Ice cream cone turner - This is almost as bad as the “bugle emulator,” which allows a guy to hold a bugle to his mouth at a military funeral, and have “Taps” be electronically played. Technology is so stupid sometimes.
Ice cream cone turner - This is almost as bad as the “bugle emulator,” which allows a guy to hold a bugle to his mouth at a military funeral, and have “Taps” be electronically played. Technology is so stupid sometimes.
We ought to do good to others as simply and naturally as a horse runs, or a bee makes honey, or a vine bears grapes season after season without thinking of the grapes it has borne.
— Marcus Aurelius
This render looks like a photograph - The line between real and unreal is being blurred further.
Unbelievable crime - A group of people in China faked AN ENTIRE BRANCH of NEC, producing products using its name, manufacturing new ones not officially recognized by NEC, and … the list goes on. This is diabolical.
“… records showed that the counterfeiters carried NEC business cards, commissioned product research and development in the company’s name and signed production and supply orders.
Some of the factories that were raided had erected bogus NEC signs and shipped their products packaged in authentic looking boxes and display cases.”
Ryouko - These guys mix break dancing with karate, etc. to make this incredible art form; as first seen in this wonderfully entertaining video of amazing flips, jumps, nunchuck work (!), and dance moves.
Found Magazine - Here’s an interesting concept: people find things on the ground (generally, personal notes from what I can see) and then send them in. Submissions are sometimes poignant, sometimes intensely personal, but always quite thought-provoking.
Yes, there is a Gatorade blog now - This is by the same author of that book about the history of Gatorade that I linked to a while ago. Furthermore, I hear this Gatorade Rain is pretty good — not as intense as regular Gatorade.
I was going to take the time to write up a longish post with regard to the following incident during my chemistry studying last night, but it’s probably best to keep it short. I consumed warmish rancid milk with sugar and oats in it. The carton said “May 1,” but apparently this milk was not about to stay fresh up to that date … it smelled vaguely of yogurt when opened, but I thought it was OK. It then tasted a bit like flowers (and yes, I have eaten flowers, though I was much younger), with some weird yogurt flavor mixed in for good measure. It took me a good 24 hours to get the weirdness out of my stomach. Oh, the exciting life I lead.
Speaking of excitement, an ochem test finally went pretty well for me (I think), so this excites me in many ways, though I am disappointed with myself for failing to log this lovely occasion in either (a) an interesting way or (b) a humorous way. Onwards, then.
I’ve been considering the implications of stream-of consciouness posts, àla toothpastefordinner’s blog. Certainly, these types of writings can cut quickly through layers of crap to what you are actually thinking, but they also run the risk of being mind-numbingly dull, pointless, and humorless. I will try (a quasi) one, though:
Recently, my brain took me back to a time years ago, when I was a freshman in high school (the year 2000). I went on a band trip to Chicago and ate in a McDonald’s on a bridge. It strikes me as strange that we never see fit to build anything other than a fast-food distribution point attached to major roadways. We place such a high priority on eating. Surprisingly, some material on my philosophy class touched on this: a dog enjoys eating just as much as we do. No amount of excitingly expensive rare dishes, exquisite service, or posh surroundings can elevate the pleasure of consuming calories above a base pleasure. In the philosophical sense, there is no more pleasure in enjoying a glass of fine wine from a specially shaped glass that contains the “bouquet” than enjoying grape juice from an aseptic carton. Certainly, we fool ourselves with publications about food, television shows about food, and ridiculous words like “mouth-feel,” all in an attempt to elevate the past-time to an intellectual pursuit. Despite our best efforts, eating remains what it is: stuffing calories down our wide-open traps in an effort to satisfy a need we share with all life on earth. The philosophy continues, pointing out that what we can enjoy with our minds, the concepts, minutia, creativity, and imagination we can generate with our intellects encompass pleasures far beyond what most any other animals are capable of. Isn’t it our duty, our obligation, to focus on these higher pleasures, given the fact that we are lucky enough to possess them at all?
I think people are unhappy because they exert themselves with the exclusive purpose of ‘satisfying’ their basic needs which do not encompass higher intellectual pleasures: house? bigger house. food? better food. People chase things without paying any attention to nurturing that which makes them human and can make them truly alive — their minds.
Oh, even better. The Kid Next Door is now singing in falsetto along with the song “Time’s A Wastin’” by June Cash and Carl Smith. The lyrics can be found on CowboyLyrics.com:
The cakes no good if you don’t mix the batter and bake it
And loves just a bubble if you don’t take the trouble to make it
So if your free to go with me, I’ll take you quicker than 1, 2, 3
Let’s go
Times a wastin
He’s on his second time through it right now; he tends to adopt songs and then play them over and over and over and … over. Whoops. I spoke too soon. He’s now on his third iteration of the song. Seriously. As I type this. You can’t make stuff like this up. He also has a certain affinity for the Beatles lately - and you know what that means — I get to experience every note of Paul McCartney’s bass playing. Wondrous.
Silver lining? He doesn’t like rap. Silver lining silver lining silver lining …
12 nails into his head and he lives - Here we go: this guy was on drugs and shot twelve nails into his head with a pneumatic air gun. He lived.
It actually reminds me a news story in the area a couple of years ago where a workman was coming down a ladder with his nail gun pointing straight down, and it tapped a guy on the top of the head and unloaded a nail into the guy. Apparently the nail missed important blood vessels by millimeters (blood is poisonous to the brain). Chance is such a funny thing.
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