Note to sandwich makers: STOP PUTTING SPROUTS ON MY SANDWICH WITHOUT ASKING ME IF I WANT SPROUTS ON MY SANDWICH.
Sprouts are vile. They smell musty and they make your sandwich taste like a barn. Whose decision was it to turn this vile pseudo-vegetable into a default ingredient of sandwiches? And where do his children go to school?!?
I think it’s time I wrote a book, don’t you?
But what to write?
The classic advice given to fledgling authors is “Write what you know.” Okay . . . I can get behind that, but shouldn’t I also pick a subject which OTHER people would WANT to know about?
So I turn to you, Faithful Reader.
Here are some topics that I know Very Well. Please leave a comment as to which should be the subject of my book. Feel free to suggest a topic that’s NOT on the list.
Things I Know Well
So. What do you think?
We lost one of science fiction’s most prolific and inventive authors this week.
Farmer won the Hugo, the genre’s most coveted award, three times.
His best work was a series of books set on an artificial planet which consisted of a single, curving, million-mile-long river, on whose banks every human being who had ever lived was mysteriously reincarnated.
Farmer was a pioneer in exploring both sex and religion in science fiction. He was almost 90 years old. We will miss him.
The cinematic snarling MUST STOP.
Christian Bale almost ruined The Dark Knight and Batman Begins with it. Whenever he spoke from within the Batsuit, his speech was a low, guttural, utterly expressionless growl. No change of inflection, no color, nothing. I can’t believe someone as talented and perceptive as director Christopher Nolan would let him get away with it.
Where did this daffy choice come from? I suspect from the world of video games. Metal Gear Solid is one of the most popular and revered of all game franchises. Though not my cup of tea, the games had many fine qualities and legions of fans.
I was always baffled when actor David Hayter’s voice work was praised as the games’ main character. In sequel after sequel, it was always the same thing: a guttural, expressionless snarl, speaking every single line exactly the same way. It was that stupid In-Batsuit-Snarl. Everyone (weirdly) found that brilliant.
A much better model would have been the wonderful voice acting Stephen Russell did as the title character in the Thief games. He, too, played a dark, shadowy character, but his performance used much more nuance and color.
Well, now the Snarl Virus is spreading. Clint Eastwood has been using it for years (thought it’s not as bad in his recent, wonderful, Gran Torino).
Have you seen, or more importantly, heard, the trailers for the upcoming megamovie Watchmen? The talented Jackie Earle Haley plays Rorschach and uses the exact same monochromatic drone.
This must stop. Immediately.
Have you noticed that for the last year or two the paper used in restaurants and shops to print credit card receipts are on magic new paper that’s almost completely impervious to the ink of a ballpoint pen? Who was the genius who came up with this?
Was no testing done? Considering the purpose of this paper is so that customers can, uh, write on it, wouldn’t its ability to absorb ink be a consideration when designing said paper?
Remarkable.
StarkRavingRay. Where we fearlessly take on the big issues.
I’m really very extremely exceedingly freaked out over the economy. It’s affecting my work in a catastrophic way. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my apartment.
The only time I get optimistic is when I hear President Obama speak. Did you watch that speech last week?
This is a seriously ambitious, smart, and determined guy. Listening to him I get the feeling that if ANYONE can help us find our way out of this mess, it’s him. I really think he might have greatness in him. I sure hope so, don’t you?
Today I had a surreal experience I don’t expect will be repeated any time soon.
Still living on Central Standard Time, woke up at 6:30 a.m. and showed up at the gym too early for it to be open.
ZOMG! I assumed my gym was open early on the weekends just like it is during the week, but evidently that isn’t true.
There should have been a photo crew to record this rare and, dare I say it, unprecedented event!
I guess they can’t all be gems.
I guess I had it coming. My first two travel days on this work trip were letter-perfect. Empty planes, good seats, early arrivals, rental cars right in the terminals, the whole enchilada.
Not so much yesterday.
After two weeks of extreme cold and snow, Madison did its part to make my exit special by having an actual ice storm the night before I left. So my day began in 10 degree weather, scraping ice off of every glass surface of my rental car. And let me tell you, this was tough ice. Getting it off was like a trip to the gym in terms of effort and calories expended.
Okay, so I made it through that hurdle. Got to the airport and attempted to check in at the Delta self-serve kiosk. I’m used to these, so there should have been no problem. And there wasn’t until the point where I paid to check my excess (that is to say, my ONE) bag. The machine spit out my receipt and that was that. No mention of where to actually take my bag. No attendant behind the counter (although it was marked OPEN). No clue whatsoever.
Thanks, Delta! I guess you’re ready when I am because you don’t feel bothered to actually have to DO anything to GET ready, huh?
Next highlight of the day: The airport security goons broke my CPAP machine. Thanks, TSA!!
Next: Horrible coach seat with my knees crammed into the seat above me. This situation was made extra-special when the woman in front of me leaned her seat back, leaving me without even enough room to hold a book in front of my face. Thanks, Airbus!
Final insult: The cab ride to Apria Healthcare (to get the CPAP fixed) and then home was one of those times when you just find yourself in the seventh circle of Hell, LA-traffic-wise.
On the bright side, the machine is working. I talked the woman in front of me into moving her seat up (I bought her drinks to say thank you), and I got home safe.
So there.
Today at lunch I was enjoying a small bag of Mrs. Vickers potato chips. I absently picked up the bag and read the text on the back. The color text bragged that Mrs. V used “farm-grown potatoes” to make her delicious snack.
Really? Farm-grown? Impressive!
On the other hand . . . what else would they be? Music-conservatory-grown? Congress-grown? Submarine-grown?
I get really annoyed with advertising and other product copy that wrings the very meaning out of language.
Don’t get me wrong. I understand that the sizzle sells the steak. Other premium potato chips have their bags tarted up with perfectly sexy language. Terra Chips uses “all-natural Yukon Gold” potatoes. Makes sense. Kettle’s krinkle-cut chips boast “wavy-potato perfection.” I get it.
But those phrases actually mean something. But “farm-raised potatoes”? That reminds me of the cookie ingredient list I once read which listed “creamery butter.” Really? As opposed to . . . Insecticide Refinery Butter? Furniture Factory Butter? Since the word “creamery” means “a place where dairy products are made, ” I’m pretty sure all butter is “creamery” butter.
Another one that gets me is the vile practice of all three major television networks to refer to upcoming episodes of their series as “all-new.” What does “all-new” mean? I’m pretty sure it means “new.” Unfortunately, some marketing person decided that “all-new” sounded sexier, and the term has now become standard.
I love language, and I understand that, at least until the entire population of our country is functionally illiterate, that language will be used to sell products. I just wish the professionals wouldn’t insult us by using language which has absolutely no meaning.
1) When you’re traveling somewhere like Buffalo in February, and you rent a car . . . make sure the morons have put an ice scraper in the car before you leave.
2) An ice scraper is too sharp to be used as a back scratcher.
That is all.