Logos con carne

August 26, 2012

Simple Tastes

I wrote recently that I have fairly poor eating habits despite much effort on the part of my parents who do have better sense with regard to food.

Part of the problem may have been a counter-lesson involving food-as-reward. We were fairly poor growing up, so getting a pizza (which was a fairly new thing back then) or ice cream was our reward for good grades in school.

I always got pretty good grades in school (although not really for the food reward; I just really liked learning). But food did become associated with good times, not that there’s nothing wrong with that. I seem to have dodged the bullet of using food as comfort, but I have discovered I eat more when bored or frustrated.

20 Comments | tags: bagels, brown sugar, cheese, Demolition Man, food, hot dogs, pasta, pizza, rat burgers, Tex-Mex | posted in Life

August 26, 2012

Sunday Drivers

By Wyrd Smythe

I was on a supply run to the grocery store this morning and was stuck behind a Toyota Camry for most of the way. My trip takes place on two-lane roads that are hilly and curved enough to prohibit passing, so I was trapped. It was a mellow Sunday morning, and there’s no use (ever) letting other drivers get to you. I’m not one to play the tailgating game, but the four vehicles stuck behind me were stacked up tightly.

In fact, once I realized it was a Camry, I started laughing. For a long time now, I’ve had a perception that when you’re stuck behind a particularly bad driver — one that stands out from the usual bad drivers — there is a good chance the car is a Camry. I’ve discovered that I’m not the only one with that perception; I’ve heard others make the same rant.

But it is a fact that there are a huge number of them on the road, and they age well, so odds are high on any car in front of you being a Camry.

4 Comments | tags: bad drivers, drivers, horrible drivers, LA Story, slow pokes, speed limit, Steve Martin, Toyota Camry | posted in Life, Rant

August 25, 2012

The CASA Boogie

By Wyrd Smythe

The other entry for Skydiving Saturday is another USENET post I made to rec.skydiving in August 1999.

And there’s a nice connection to posting these in August as I did with the three last year describing the first and second Tandem jumps and the first AFF jump. The girl friend and I made those two Tandem jumps in August of 1997, so August is the month it all began.

While we started AFF school that September, and finished the following March, the day of jumping described below (one of our most fun times as the drop zone) took place on a very hot day in August of 1999. A lot of things started to go downhill after that, so in a number of ways this represents one of the high points in our lives. It was definitely one of those days to press in your memory book.

4 Comments | tags: boogie, CASA, rec.skydiving, skydiving, USENET | posted in Life

August 25, 2012

AFF Graduation!

By Wyrd Smythe

It’s Skydiving Saturday at Logos con carne! I’m working on the upcoming TV Tuesday, so this weekend I’m going to coast a bit with some easy posts and archive excavations.

It’s also a good time to enjoy the end of lazy summer before we go back to school. After all, Logos CC is also about philosophy and computers and science (oh, my).

There are many meaty topics on the grill for later, but for now it’s free fall time!

2 Comments | tags: AFF, AFF jump, rec.skydiving, skydiving, USENET | posted in Life

August 25, 2012

Dung Beetles

By Wyrd Smythe

Let us speak now of a form of life so low and loathsome that, in comparison, the worst person you ever spent time with is a saint, a paragon of human virtue and charm. I mean the biggest waste of human flesh this world has ever seen.

I’m speaking of a form of life so useless, so revolting, that a universe in which just one of these disgusting creatures lives, albeit even on a distant planet beyond the reach of any spaceship, is worse than living in a house filled with giant, raving, rabid human-hating scorpions.

I’m speaking of a kind of human so offensive in the face of all that is good and right they should be forced to live their miserable lives wearing cactus-lined underwear while Prometheus’s Eagle takes a break from his usual duties to come to eat their livers and hearts. (Except they have no hearts.)

16 Comments | tags: die die die spammers, die horribly spammers, die painfully spammers, die spammers, vanish from the earth spammers | posted in Rant

August 24, 2012

BB #7: Peaches & Red Shirts

By Wyrd Smythe

I was brought up pretty well, I think, in terms of having (and keeping) principles and honor and honesty. But my parents failed terribly in one regard: I have horrible eating habits. The stuff I love is, generally speaking, the wrong sort of stuff to be eating, and those wholesome and wonderful foods leave me cold. Some of them, cooked squash or most egg preparations for example, actually induce a gag reflex.

Given a choice between eating a fried (or boiled) egg or being water boarded, I would have to give the matter some serious thought.

It’s like the old Jack Benny joke about the time he was mugged. “Your money or your life!” cries the mugger. [long pause] “Well?” demands the mugger. “I’m thinking, I’m thinking,” replies Benny.

6 Comments | tags: Danny Glover, Jack Benny, Lethal Weapon, peaches, pie, Star Trek, tropes, TV Tropes, veggies, Wiki Walk | posted in Brain Bubble

August 24, 2012

When the Dark Comes

By Wyrd Smythe

When it’s 3 AM and the bad moon rises; lunacy.

When darkness and disappointment rip the soul.

When tears no longer wash away the pain.

When anger blots mind with spilled-ink thoughts.

When fear grows tall in cornrows of dismay.

When silence echoes with loss and cost.

When life’s hollows capture rage and regret.

When bone ache of could haves, should haves, weigh heavy.

When angels hide and demons call.

When sorrow seems the guiding star.

When unspoke pleas on deaf ears fall.

When good deeds seem unseen; each misstep marked.

When luck sours; curdled dreams gone; drained.

When words fail; brightness tarnished brass.

When age brings wear and weariness.

When change whips flesh from back; submission.

Branches move in the wind; look!

On the horizon a storm brews.

When love’s a dead ember; coals gone to charcoal.

When hope tastes like ashes and dust.

When you stand alone in the crowd.

When blank faces don’t look back; eyes avoid.

When reaching hands grasp nothing.

When longing overtakes sense and senses.

When empty arms make a cold vacuum.

When heart breaks on lonely shores; beauty lost.

The storm comes.

Winds blow; boughs break.

Lightning cracks; rains come.

The storm passes.

Air cools; breeze blows.

Day dawns; light comes.

Moon Spirits, 4/5
Lisa Unterbrink

4 Comments | tags: darkness, despair, Lisa Unterbrink, loss, Moon Spirits, poetry | posted in Writing

August 23, 2012

My Life 2.0

By Wyrd Smythe

This is a companion piece to yesterday’s post about my high school English teacher, Mr. Wilson (which may—or may not—be his real name). This piece concerns something that happened in high school that changed my life. It’s one of those moments when you turn onto a new road that ends up becoming a permanent part of your path. As we say these days, it rebooted my life.

The road turn took place in 1970, but the first real seed was planted the year before. It was my first year of high school, and I went to see a play, Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, put on by the high school. The play was staged in the school’s auditorium, a 1000-seat genuine theatre complete with fly galleries, lighting positions, and a booth at the back for projectors and the main spotlight.

It was the first time I’d seen a live play or a theatre like that.

24 Comments | tags: Cloris Leachman, drama, Ed Asner, high school, lighting guy, Mary Tyler Moore, theatre, theatre lighting | posted in Life, Writing

August 22, 2012

Somewhat Unique

By Wyrd Smythe

(Not Mr. Wilson)

I’ve spent so much time today reading and commenting on other people’s blogs (and a few on my own) that now I’m feeling a bit weary of writing. Still, we’ll see how this one goes. It’s a combination bone to pick (albeit a small and arguable one) and remembrance of things past. Distant, dim past. High school past. Nearly forty years past.

I’ve been remembering the past for a variety of reasons. A high school friend, one of the very few I’m still in touch with, is also facing looming job elimination.

And just yesterday, someone else from high school sent a message to my Facebook page (which I maintain for the purpose of old friends finding me, and only for that purpose).

12 Comments | tags: Chaucer, classy, English class, high school, Mr. Wilson, Neil Gaiman, Sandman, unique | posted in Life, Writing