Human Under Construction

2005-02-07

Chagrinned emergency officials in Sydney are investigating allegations that a fire station was unable to respond to an alarm because a fireman had taken the station's only fire truck to pick up a pizza and give some friends a joyride.

The Yuma County Board of Supervisors is considering a request to have a Colorado River rock formation officially named after Sammie, a deceased golden retriever.

Police in Stockholm, Sweden used dental records to identify a man who broke into a cafeteria. The suspect left his false teeth with his social security number engraved in them at the scene of the crime.

A Polish cardinal has ruled himself out of electing Roman Catholicism's next pope. It seems he is 5 years older than the age given in Vatican documents and therefore beyond the maximum voting age of 80.

A budding cyber romance between a Jordanian man and woman turned into an ugly public divorce when the couple found out that they were, in fact, already man and wife.

Repeat Offender

Richard Marx: His own Worst Enemy

2005-02-06

Puppy Bowl

Superbowl, shmooperbowl. This is where the real action was at:

Animal Planet's Puppy Bowl.

Starting at 1 p.m. central, the extravaganza began. In a miniature arena painted to look like a football field, the puppies took the field and chased each other around for hours and hours. At one point, a ref was called on to the field. "Puppy foul, twenty yard line," he declared then wiped the offense up with a towel. The call was not disputed, but many players came over and huddled around the area before play continued.





Viewers could even vote for their MVP... Most Valuable Puppy.

Perchance To Dream

I am a dreamer. I come from a long line of dreamers on both sides of my family. When I'm in hard-core writing mode, my dreams are both reflections and instigators of what I write.

Unfortunately for me, I spent last weekend writing about the discovery of a body.

I spent the weekend researching decomposition from anaerobic and aerobic bacteria resulting in supification and purification, respectively. I wanted to know what it looked like, what it smelled like, and the minutest details of the affects of rainfall and acid soil on a body. I was up late at night viewing sites on adipocere. That makes for some weird dreaming. For a week I've been dreaming of bodies. A week.

One began, innocently, with a visit to some caves in Italy that had a fascinating display of fossils in their discovered states. The dream flight over was uneventful and the drive through the Italian countryside was beatific. I arrived at the site and entered an elevator that took me deep into the earth. It stopped at varying levels, depending on the fossils to be viewed. The floor I exited on must have been the "macabre" floor. I was quickly ushered into a room where the basic chemistry of forensic pathology was being taught. I was quite restless. As students played with their vials and watched the affects of one chemical upon another, I slipped out the back. My dreams almost always have a back door. On my own, I stumbled onto the preserved bodies of dinosaurs. There were two. Big whoop. I also stumbled upon animated corpses preserved at varying stages of decay and dissection. If you asked them, they would quite happily and meticulously describe how they arrived at the state they were in. There was an eviscerated gentleman hopping about on one foot and a lovely, long-haired woman with a massive tumor exposed from her flayed stomach. All of these people were smiling. They were all very friendly. I resolved, upon waking from that dream, to cut short my forensic research for a bit. Maybe break up the imagery I'd been burning into my brain with some nice flowers, or teddy bears. God, something else. So, what did I dream of after "depriving" myself of death images?

I went flying with Robin Williams. He taught me all the finer aspects of catching a good cross wind and landing in inclement weather. He was all in one piece. He was hairy. He was fully clothed. And, he was alive. Vast improvement. Why did my brain do this? Well, by golly I was determined to find out. I went back into research-mode.

There is a lot of information about dreams out there. Some of it is Freudian. Some of it is Jungian. Some of it is quite silly. And, believe me, I know silly. We're very well acquainted.

There are different kinds of dreaming. There are nightmares, night terrors, lucid dreaming, precognitive dreaming, healing dreams, quantitative dreaming and wet dreams. And, although dreaming is free, people are willing to charge a lot of money to tell you what those dreams mean. Quite nice of them. From fortune tellers to cognitive analysts to research foundations, there is a booming dream industry.

If you want to delve into dream interpretation, you'll find lots of silliness. The symbolic meaning behind dreams can be equally silly and quite archaic. Try it yourself at the following links:
http://www.sleeps.com/dictionary/dictionary.html and http://www.dreamdoctor.com/dictionary/

I dream about smoking cigarettes on odd occasions: "smoking a cigarette is a lucky omen. This dream denotes much prosperity and self-satisfaction for the dreamer." Unless, one is not a smoker. Then it's a bad omen - "Get a medical examination as soon as possible!" My doctor would love that reasoning.

My flying dream: "If you dream you are flying so high that you can actually touch the moon and stars this portends many different types of global disaster that you may soon hear of. If you fly high with black wings you are warned that you are headed for a let down of magnitude. Flying dreams are normally a good omen and if the flight is pleasant, with no worries and anxieties, you can look for happiness and plenty to follow."

Another site said of dream flying: "Flying with a guide in a dream is different though and it indicates that you have the ability to project your mind into the spirit world and communicate with spirits." Lucky me. Another says: "Metaphor of personal power in dreams. Flying to escape a pursuer suggests confidence in one's ability to avoid, or outmaneuver, fears and problems in our life. Difficulty gaining elevation (we have to "bounce" off the ground, or fly around obstacles), suggests doubts about our ability to reach a destination. Fears of landing reflect uncertainty about the future; we don't know "where we will land."

Dreams of soaring unfettered above the Earth reflect feelings of empowerment. We are confident in our ability to "reach any destination," and feel "on top of the world."" I am, apparently, quite the confident wench. Yeah, for me.

Let's try spiders: "All spiders except tarantulas are omens of good luck. If you see a spider climbing the wall you will have your dearest wish come true and if you see a spider spinning a web you will have an increase in your income due to hard work. A large spider sitting on a telephone shows you will have a phone call that will benefit you greatly. The larger the spider, the bigger the rewards." Tarantulas are not analyzed separately, for those seeking elucidation on that symbol. I think that is very silly. Can one man's spider be the same as another man's spider?

Dream symbols interpret symbol by symbol but they do not interpret the interaction with or the feelings toward the symbol. My dream spider was a cute and friendly little tyke that ended up bigger than the whole house. My sister's dream spider was icky and mean. In my dream there was mutual affection. In her dream, she was so overcome with fear, a dream Jennifer had to catch it. Dream Jennifer wouldn't kill it, though. She must be superstitious.

Studies done recently on the dreams of people with amnesia seem to suggest a meaning behind the dreams of everyone blessed with total recall. The study says people with amnesia that play the game Tetris, dreamed about the annoying little blocks falling, but couldn't remember actually playing the game. And, unlike people with recognition, their skills and scores did not improve.

Dr. Robert Stickgold, a psychiatrist at Harvard Medical School in Boston theorizes: "This shows that when the brain is filing away the memories it needs to keep, it has to go through a series of steps, and dreaming is a manifestation of one crucial step. Dreams are just the body's way of clearing out the mental "in-box."

"The trick is to move it to the file cabinet and to file it in the right place," Stickgold says. "A lot of REM (rapid eye-movement) dreams, those really quirky, strange, bizarre dreams that we have late at night, are the brain looking for ways to cross-index. It is looking for cross-references -- does this fit with this. Sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn't," he said. When it doesn't fit, the dream seems weird, he said. When the cross-reference is a good one, the brain can reinforce the memory.

"What these results, especially from the amnesiacs, tells us is that when the brain puts dreams together, it does it without knowledge of and access to memories of actual events in our life," Stickgold said. "We have two different memory systems. The hippocampal codes information on events from our lives. So when I ask you what did you have for breakfast, you go to the hippocampus for the answer," he added.

"A second system is the neocortical," he said, referring to another area of the brain. "So when I ask you when we go out for breakfast 'what do you like for breakfast?' that is a different type of question. When you go for that general information you go to neocortex. An amnesiac can tell you what they like for breakfast. They can't tell you what they had for breakfast."

This really dashes all the romanticism associated with dreams, doesn't it? Cross-referencing and electrical impulses, not prophecy and resolution. Is it possible that something that can affect us so profoundly is a mere firing of a few synapses? Or, is that just the physical reality behind an experience of the soul? Are dreams the great quantifiers of our existence? A map to the inner recesses of our hearts and minds? An internal movie playing out our fears and hopes? At the very least, they are the beginning and the end to our day. For me, they are fleeting images that need to be written down or painted as soon as possible. For a rare few, they are the preamble to a personal manifesto that, when lived out, can change the lives of many. As Edna O'Brien said - "in dream begins responsibilities.*"

"Yet it is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top."
-- Virginia Woolf (A Room of One's Own)

"Maybe the wildest dreams are but the needful preludes of the truth."
-- Alfred Lord Tennyson

"Yet it is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top."
-- Virginia Woolf (A Room of One's Own)
"Maybe the wildest dreams are but the needful preludes of the truth."
-- Alfred Lord Tennyson

*Bono did not come up with that piece of wisdom. Nor did he come up with:
"A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle." That was Gloria Steinam

2005-02-05

Barcodes for Bodies

Do to a surge in the blackmarket sale of body parts, University of California officials are considering inserting either supermarket-style barcodes or radio frequency devices in cadavers.

50,000 copies in six week

13-year-old Emma Maree of Inverness has written a book about a teenager who is dragged into a virtual reality game involving a dragon. If she dies in the game, she dies in the real world.

Emma Maree was writing short stories at the age of 10 and is determined to pursue a career as a novelist. She writes in longhand and then transfers the material to a computer. The novel took her about a year to write. "“It came naturally,"” her dad said. “It just flowed out of her.”

Emma says, “It’s a perfect read for the computer generation. Lots of kids out there like playing computer games and this is taking it to a whole new level. The characters go into the world and experience it for real.”

“I enjoy writing,” she said. “It’s a lot of fun. My parents encouraged me to write. It has been a long ambition of mine to write a book and get it published. I have been writing stories for quite a while, but none of them have been as good as Dragon Tamers.”

Her father, Ian, an electrician, said: “She does everything off her own back. We have to safeguard her, but she’s taken everything calmly. She’s coping well, with our support.”

Aultbea Publishing Company have had calls from collectors asking to buy up to ten signed copies at once. Dragon Tamers, retailing at £9.95, is on eBay for £35.

The book has sold 50,000 copies in six weeks. A second print run for Emma Maree Urquhart’s Dragon Tamers has been ordered.

2005-02-04

Cuteness Factor Heretofore Unprecedented.

from left: Rio, Baby and Pinkie

Trio of Cotton-Top Tamarin monkeys stolen from British zoo were returned to the Drayton Manor Theme Park and Zoo in Tamworth, England, Thursday Feb. 3, 2005, after being stolen in an overnight raid earlier in the week. The trio was recovered during police raids on 2 locations in the Erdington district of Birmingham, England, and are being assessed by keepers.

Keanu Exorcises for new film

Hollywood star Keanu Reeves said he trained with an exorcist for his latest film, 'Constantine.' "I went with an exorcist for a bit. I just want to know really practical things, like how do you hold someone possessed by the devil," Reeves said.

"Constantine kind of knows it's fact. So I guess if I had any doubts before, I probably have a little few less doubts now," he said.

Strongest Movie Images from my Childhood.



Cool Hand Luke's giant egg belly

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest Chief smothers McMurphy then busts out



The Great Escape tunnel system and Hilts gets caught in the barbed wire

Communication Breakdown

Finally rid myself of AOL today. And like a neurotic and needy ex-boyfriend, it just didn't want to let me go.

After making it through the automated voice choice system, I reached a live person. Not a person residing in this hemisphere, but a live person.

She argued with me for 20 minutes, trying to get me to keep AOL.

I had to resort to the repeat the same thing over and over until the enemy capitulates tactic (I learned it from an Oprah show ten years ago devoted to child rearing.) It was fun. And the room is filled with monkeys that just flew out of my butt.

"Did you know that AOL offers..."

"I don't like AOL."

"You may not be aware of all of the..."

"I don't like AOL."

"Have you tried our..."

"I don't like AOL."

"I can offer you a month free if you..."

"I don't like AOL."

"Our new keyword search..."

muttering... then "I ... don't.... like... AOL."

Keep going like this for ten minutes. Rinse, and repeat.

An exploding star, 20,000 light years away
Courtesy of Hubble

Badges! We Don't Need No Stinkin' Badges

San Antonio strippers won't need any badges after all — at least, not for a while. A federal judge on Wednesday has blocked the city temporarily from enforcing a new ordinance requiring San Antonio strippers to wear permit badges at their pole positions.

Pole positions.

I like that.

2005-02-02

Wednesday

>





Every one of these photos came up under an image search for 'Hump Day'.

The State of Health Care in the U.S.



Read more here.

Luck Under the Belt

"If you have a dragon on your underpants you will be protected"

And with that simple premise, a product was born. Feng Shui underwear.

"Our feng shui master says that having something lucky in contact with your skin would bring spiritual balance, so we thought lucky underpants would be ideal -- they are as intimate as you get," said Amy Law, a spokeswoman for Life Enhance, a company that seeks to bring the wisdom of ancient China to the mass market.

All a part of the joys associated with re-arranging one's shui for the Chinese New Year, which begins next Wednesday.

My Childhood Fear

I promised a while ago I would reveal the fear of bigfoot that stayed with me well into my technically adult years. No, I don't have big feet. They're actually quite small. I really make out like a demon at shoe sales. My fear was all about bigfoot, sasquatch, yeti. And it's all my parents fault.

This all began when the lot of the Jordan clan lived in Whitefish Bay, Wisconsin. Sounds quaint and lovely, doesn't it? It was, except for the children. Richard Rice, I remember you! You beat the crap out of me and chased me almost everyday on the way to school! You threw my party shoes (which I called pahty shoes) into the mud! A pox on you!

I hated that school, too. My teacher (Mrs. Hathaway - you evil, child hating muggle!) had a naughty chair and she made me sit in it on my birthday (I had turned 6). I broke it but not on purpose! Until that year I was a rather happy go lucky, cheerful kinda kid. That day, which is burned into my psyche, I had just put my hand down on the edge and it came away in my hand. The minute I heard the splintering wood and looked down, I could feel the red creep over me and the deep knowledge of trouble to come made me ears ring. I knew I'd catch it and did I ever! I cried all the home and when my mom and aunt saw me crying, this is what they told me: If you cry on your birthday, it means you'll cry the rest of the year. That did nothing to help. I was a wreck. God, I hate birthdays.

Anyway, we lived in a house that I loved. Lots of open space to run, crooks and crannies to hide in and a basement that was a pure kid zone. The whole thing was really a giant fort not made and no
one over 3 feet tall dared enter it for fear of backache.

One night, the summer before my terrible birthday experience, we we're all splayed about in the living room watching television, or the evil time stealer, as I like to call it.

There was a show my parents were very interested in watching on bigfoot. When asked, my parents explained this phenomenon as being something benign that I needed worry about. They wouldn't let me watch otherwise, would they?

We watched as a scene was developed; a true life story here re-enacted for our viewing pleasure. It is late in the evening and a women sits, alone, in her living room, reading a book. She has her legs tucked under her and this book is some great book, I'll tell you, because even when this weird shadow passes behind her in the huge bay window, she's only mildly interested. Just a little peek and nope! Everything's good.

Suddenly, a great, hairy arm crashes through the glass next to her and grabs at the lamp and then her. She screams, stands up, screams some more and runs to the hallyway by the stairs. Her husband comes barreling down the steps. She frantically tells him what has happened and, testosterone personified, he heads for the front door to check this wild story out. He opens it wide and standing there, with this huge Neanderthal brow and big hairy arms (I couldn't see the feet) was the creature.

By now, Dianne and I are terrified. And we were not easily mollified. It's just a story. Yeah, right. A re-enactment of a true story. It was just a guy in a costume. When she saw it? Go watch tv in the kitchen. OK.

Dianne and I huddled up in the kitchen, watching the small black and white. Next to the suddenly huge kitchen window. She and I never looked at a window in the same way.

He Will See His Shadow

Baby, he lives in shadow.
He bathes in shadow. He sleeps in shadow.
He is shadow,
in rodent form.

He wanted me to tell you this:
It's winter! It's cold and disgusting.
It'll stay that way til spring!
Get over it!



 Come out and what do they do with me...

Fuck that!

2005-02-01

We are amused

Jamie 'Pukka' Oliver is a target of derision. In America, the U.K. or Australia, the Naked Chef and his cool loft kitchen, motor biking shopping forays and quaint 'cooking for few friends' style, seems to grate on many an English nerve. Is it the haphazard cooking style, the nouveau riche rock star stylings or is it the simple joy he seems to take in his fate as cook for the cool kids?



The biggest reason for Jubbly Jamie's hate club? The mockney cockney. Mr.Oliver is said to have affected a style of speech vastly different from his Upper Crusty Cambridge "NO! I told you to caramelithse the PEARL onionth, infidel!"

of his youth. Oliver's fast patter whilst cooking is a street hugging Cockney delivered in a lisp that seems to have sprung from a mouth with a tongue so swollen the man can't keep his mouth closed. "Ith not me thath naked me old darlingth ith the food. I've thripped it down to ith raw ingredienth"

It could be this sensibilty that many share: That when a person does 'too many adverts for too many products in the same cheeky style his/her products turns sour and they become figures of ridicule; see also a talentless nutsack of immense proportions named Linda Barker.' Hatred quickly follows.

There is a "Punch the twat in the kitchen", similar to a "Morph a Celebrity site" both of which are mild compared to the time and skill many display when besmirching the smirking ones image. And, of course, there are a number of Jamie is a Wanker groups on Yahoo, many frequently unfrequented due to apathy, the new hate.





I took the time to put all of this together for a number of reasons. One, well, I'm not fond of the man. I think he'th annoying and pretenshuth. Two, when anyone in the U.K. takes a seething dislike to someone, the results are generally humorous as all hell. Americans usually don't take the time or make the effort to really vilify and summarily cut someone down as well as the UK crowd. The canker that is Oliver served me well last night while I was in a black mood. You can only see the word twat so many times before you cheer up.



Now, for anyone that wants to read real books about cooking by a real cook, I give you Anthony Bourdain. Dry, sharp humor by a man with attitude to spare. He can tell you why you shouldn't eat fish on Monday's while making you laugh your ass off.