Archive for the Family and Friends Category

A SHORT CONVERSATION WITH MY WIFE

Posted in amusant, And now the snorting starts, おかしなふるまいの, अजीब, buffo, Family and Friends, gülen yüz, greannmhar, 재미, αστείος, kluchtig, lächerlich, music, neşeli, snaaks, مضحك, مضحکہ خیز, 滑稽, מצחיק, خنده, خنده دار with tags , on June 6, 2012 by paulboylan

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June 6, 2012, 8:55 AM:

My wife just walked into my office, affected a New Jersey accent, and said:

You know how they say you should be careful about what you wish for, well I wished to be frickin’ awesome, and it’s worked out pretty good for me.

And then she walked back into our bedroom to continue getting ready for work.

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Meet My Oldest and Youngest Sisters

Posted in космическая девушка, Family and Friends, Film, Grim Fairy Tales, Movies, music, Photography, Pop Culture on January 29, 2012 by paulboylan

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My father married three times.

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He producing three sons, of which I am the second, and five daughters. I recently realized that my oldest sister shares inexplicable similarities to my youngest sister.

My oldest sister is Marea. We share a mother and a father.

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As is apparent, Marea is in love with the American culture exemplified in the 1890′s through the 1920′s.  Her passion for that era extends, in particular, to its music.  I personally am amazed that Marea has found a variety of fora to express her appreciation through performance in front of audiences of people equally passionate about such an esoteric historical period.  Here is an example:

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Jump ahead a generation to the results of my father’s third, and most lasting, marriage.  This is my youngest sister, Eileen.

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Like her oldest sister, Eileen has embraced the theatrical.  She is actually a fairly accomplished actress, which you can see byhclicking here/or by watching this film preview:

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I am very proud of all my sisters, but Eileen possesses a talent that excites me more than any other: she is a talented graphic artist and there is a possibility she will collaborate with me to illustrate one of my Grim Fairy Tales entitled The Vulture Who Thought He Was a Person.

Stay tuned.

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Kansas City

Posted in Family and Friends, Kansas City, Travel, פיצה on November 20, 2011 by paulboylan

I’ve never been here before.  I like it.  This is a city with complex personality, a haunted quality and unexpected sophistication.

Bread pudding flambe I got at at rib joint. Incredibly delicate and delicious.

Tonight: dinner with Murph and Trinity.

Looking forward to it.

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A SHORT CONVERSATION WITH MY WIFE

Posted in And now the snorting starts, Family and Friends, Food, 스타게이트유니버스, pandemic, Photography, zombies on November 19, 2011 by paulboylan

As most of you know, I recently returned from a really wonderful visit to Australia.

While there, I was enormously fortunate to spend a bit of time with the magnificent and munificent author, John Birmingham, during which we shared one or two or three really excellent meals.

I returned from Australia about 10 pounds heavier than when I left.  Apparently, John gained a bit of weight too, for which he blamed me.s

In response, I admitted causing John’s increased girth and explained that I did it for revenge.  This is what I said:

“I readily admit it. Why did I go through so much trouble at such high cost and such low profit to “visit” Oz? I did it to prompt the otherwise preternaturally svelte Mr. Birmingham to pack on unsightly kilos. I did it for revenge. Revenge! Birmingham’s failure to model a significant recurring character after me demanded revenge! Murph gets to be president. The Rhino gets to be, well, the Rhino. What do I get? Zilch! Bupkis! Maffi! Nada! Nichts! Nothing (I added that last one for you out there who don’t speak any Yiddish, Arabic, Spanish or German. Fucking Philistines)!

I am not an unreasonable man. I realize that a short, bald, fart-joke-loving, seppo lawyer of mixed Greek and Irish ancestry doesn’t really lend itself to military/tech adventure novels or histories of Sydney. So? So what? This is about respect!

I am not, however,  responsible for the advent of the restaurant review season. That’s our own damned fault.”

Feeling rather pleased with my creative invective, I showed it to my wife, Lori.  After reading it, she looked up at me and said:

“I would be careful what I say if I were you.  For all you know, you might end up as a gay zombie in one of his books.”

I… didn’t consider that possibility.  But now that I have considered it,  I must agree with my wife: I need to be more careful.

A Grim Fairy Tale: BUMPKIN THE COUNTRY PUMPKIN

Posted in And now the snorting starts, Family and Friends, Food, Grim Fairy Tales, Isnt nature wonderful?, Mordor, Rotwang, The Great State of Montana!, The Wilhelm Scream, USA! USA! USA!, What are you sick or something?, Why do people in other countries talk funny? on October 29, 2011 by paulboylan

So I am sitting in this tavern in Melbourne with my mates Flinthart, Banger, Melbo, Mayhem and Catty, eating and drinking and otherwise faffing up a storm, exploring the random furphy and otherwise having a grand time, when the topic of writing comes up.

I mentioned the inappropriate series of children’s stories I wrote many years ago told by my alter-ego, an evil old man named Brother Grim.

One of my dining companions actually encouraged me to post those awful stories here. I think all of them are secretly laughing at me.  Australians are inscrutable.  I can’t think of any way they can be scruted. But, what the heck, it is nearly Halloween, so why not trot out Bumpkin the Country Pumpkin – posted a couple of years ago at the Mini Burger.  I’ve added illustrations.  I recommend that all of you read it to your children, the younger the better.

So, ladies and gentlemen, I give you

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BUMPKIN THE COUNTRY PUMPKIN

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Once upon a time there was a little pumpkin named Bumpkin.

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He lived in the country, far away from the Big City, on the side of the road next to the pumpkin patch.  He was a bit scrawny and small.  He began as a stray seed that accidentally flew to the roadside to sprout and grow without the benefit of regular water, fertilizer and pesticides. 

So he sat by the side of the road, watching the pumpkins in the pumpkin patch grow big and orange and proud.

“We are Halloween pumpkins!” the pumpkin patch pumpkins would say to Bumpkin.  “Children will buy us and make us into Jack-o-lanterns for Halloween!” they bragged shamelessly.

Bumpkin wished he, too, could be a Jack-O-Lantern for Halloween, but the pumpkin patch pumpkins laughed when he confessed his deepest desire.

“We are big and orange,” they would point out.  “We will be picked at harvest and taken to the supermarket where we will be examined and fawned over and picked by children, who will carve us into scary and silly faces.  We will be illuminated by flickering candles, glowing yellow out from our carved eyes.  We will be remembered forever by children who grow into adults, who will take their children in turn to the supermarket to pick a Halloween pumpkin.”

“Maybe I will become a Jack-o-lantern too!” Bumpkin squeaked from the roadside, interrupting the litany of self-admiration.

“You?” the other pumpkins sneered. “Who would pick you?  You are funny-looking, and besides, you are growing out by the roadside, away from the pumpkin patch.  You will never be harvested and taken to the supermarket.”

When harvest came, Bumpkins saw that it was true.  The truck loads of migrant workers were paid by the pound, so they concentrated on the bigger, oranger pumpkins in the pumpkin patch.  They didn’t even notice little, scrawny, misshaped Bumpkin.

But then one of the workers, for reasons unknown, and to the righteous shock of the finer pumpkins, reached out and picked Bumpkin and placed him on the pile with the other pumpkins.

And so Bumpkin was taken to the supermarket and placed on display. 

But no one picked him.  Many children came and looked.  Some touched and weighed, some seriously considered, but they all ended up choosing the bigger, oranger pumpkins.

On Halloween Eve Bumpkin found himself all alone on the wooden display sitting between two rotting pumpkins.  He felt it was all over when he heard a woman’s voice ask:

“How much for the pumpkins?”

“I’ll give you all three for a penny a piece,” the voice of the produce manager said.

And so the woman bought Bumpkin and the two rotting pumpkins and brought them to her home.

The woman lived in a bad neighborhood in a small appartment near a busy street.  When she got home, she took all three pumpkins out of the bag and began cutting and cleaning the two rotting pumpkins, who had died from despair many days earlier.

“I guess I’m going to be a pie,” Bumpkin said to himself in bitter disappointment. 

But then a little boy walked into the kitchen.  His name was Timmy, and Timmy wanted – more than anything in the world – to carve a jack-o-lantern for Halloween.  He saw Bumpkin lying on the counter beside the sink, and Timmy fell in love.  Bumpkin was the most beautiful pumpkin Timmy had ever seen.

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“Please, Mamma. Please, can I have that little pumpkin?” he asked.

“No,” his mother said.  “We are very poor, and we need these pumpkins for food.  It is wrong to play with food.”

“Oh, please Mamma!  If you give me the pumpkin, I promise to get a job and work real hard to earn enough money to buy another pumpkin so you can cook it!  Please!”  Timmy said, and began to cry, because he knew full well that there were no jobs for poor little boys like him.

His mother knew it, too, but she gave Timmy the little pumpkin anyway. She really didn’t want to cook it.  She was suspicious of Bumpkin’s sickly color and odd shape.  She thought Bumpkin might be diseased.  So she gave it to Timmy.

“Make sure to wash your hands afterwards,” Timmy’s mother instructed.

Timmy didn’t care what Bumpkin looked like or the risk of pathogen contamination associated with cutting into Bumpkin’s flesh.  Timmy was overjoyed.

And Bumpkin was overjoyed.  He was going to be a jack-o-lantern!  At last, his dream was coming true.

Bumpkin became a little hesitant when he saw Timmy spread some newspaper on the floor and take hold of a long carving knife.

 

And it hurt a lot when Timmy clumsily stabbed into Bumpkin’s flesh, cutting a hole in Bumpkin’s top and reaching in to scoop out Bumpkin’s guts.

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Bumpkin fainted more than once.  And, as Timmy’s little hand scooped out Bumpkin’s insides, reaching in over and over again,  Bumpkin screamed over and over again, screams that only other pumpkins could hear – as well as the occasional banana squash.

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Between fainting and screaming, Bumpkin could hear, out in the black night, the howling screams of the bigger, oranger pumpkins who, like Bumpkin, were being eviscerated by smiling, laughing children, as well as the occasional perverted adult.

After what seemed to be a timeless eternity of suffering without end, Bumpkin was transformed into a jack-o-lantern.  Timmy beamed as he placed a candle in Bumpkin, lit the candle and set Bumpkin in front of the apartment door.

Bumpkin’s pride overshadowed his excruciating pain.  He looked up and down the street at the other jack-o-lanterns carved from the fine, cultivated pumpkins.   Bumpkin could feel their surprise – and a little outrage – when they noticed him.  Bumpkin decided that he was just as good as any of them.  And he was.

The magic of that night went on and on.  Bumpkin watched as the costumed children went door to door yelling “trick or treat!” holding out their bags for candy.

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And then it was Timmy’s turn.  Bumpkin watched as Timmy and his mother left the apartment to go trick or treating.

“Isn’t my jack-o-lantern beautiful?” Timmy beamed.

“Yes, dear,” his mother said, and they walked off.

It wasn’t long before more children came to the door.  But no one was home to give them candy, and the children walked away, dissappointed. Some of them said foul and impolite things, angered by the lack of candy caused by Timmy and his mother’s absence.   Then one group of boys came by who weren’t dressed in costumes.

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When no one responded to their baritone cries of “trick or treat!,” the boys threw eggs at Timmy’s apartment and wrote rude remarks with bars of soap on the apartment windows.  Then they picked up Bumpkin and ran off.

Bumpkin remained with those terrible boys through the night.  He was with them when they threw more eggs, sprayed shaving cream, and frightened other children.  The boys even used Bumpkin to terrify the littlest kids.  The boys would thrust Bumpkin into the faces of children and yell “boo!”  The little kids would look at Bumpkin, scream and run away crying.

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Just before midnight, the boys climbed to the top of a building, ran over to the edge of the roof and threw Bumpkin down to the pavement below.  Bumpkin smashed into a million pieces.

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But he didn’t die. 

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In the morning someone swept up the pieces of Bumpkin and threw them into a garbage can.

As the pieces of Bumpkin lay there in the dark, smelly garbage can, Bumpkin heard a little boy crying.  It was Timmy, and he was crying because someone had stolen his first and most favorite jack-o-lantern.  Timmy’s mother came to comfort him.

“Don’t cry, dear. It was only a vegetable,” she said.

And then, alone in the trash, Bumpkin died.  

THE END

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HEADLINE – Professor accused of running prostitution site

Posted in Artists Rights, Droit de Suite, Droit Moral, Embarrassing Butt-Shots, Family and Friends, Headline, Headlines, News, Our animal friends on June 21, 2011 by paulboylan

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Professor David Flory

NEWARK, N.J. – A longtime New Jersey physics professor who dabbled in scuba diving and harbored dreams of working in the theater had another hobby, New Mexico police say: operating a prostitution website that may have catered to as many as 200 prostitutes and 1,200 clients.

David Flory was arrested Sunday at a Starbucks in Albuquerque, N.M., and charged with 40 counts of promoting prostitution.

“I never met the guy,” said Professor Paul Nicholas Boylan, of Davis, California. “I never saw him, never tweeted with him, never friended him on Facebook, never visited his website, never emailed him photographs of my crotch and never collaborated with him on any academic venture of any kind whatsoever,” Boylan insisted.

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SOURCE –  http://news.us_professor_prostitution_website-

HEADLINE -Antarctic penguin colony vanishes

Posted in Family and Friends, Food, German Reformation Knock-Knock Jokes (1520-1553), Globalization, Headline, Headlines, Isnt nature wonderful?, News, Our animal friends, Science, The Wrath of God, Travel, Uncategorized, What are you sick or something?, Why do people in other countries talk funny? on April 27, 2011 by paulboylan

CHRISTCHURCH – A small colony of emperor penguins on an island off the West Antarctic Peninsula is gone, and the most likely culprit is a resident of Rio Grande, Argentina named Ted who thinks penguins are delicious.  

“I’m not saying I am the only cause for the disappearance of the entire colony, but I can tell you that they barbecue up real nice,” said Ted in a rare television appearance.

The researchers studying the situation, however, caution that their study is hampered by a lack of long-term information on just how delicious emperor penguins are,  both at the site in question and in general.

Emperor penguins are regal, if bulky, birds that stand as high as 4 feet (1.2 meters) and can weigh as much as 84 pounds (38 kilograms). This colony, first spotted in 1948 on an island dubbed Emperor Island, was a small one that had approximately 150 breeding pairs.

Observations are spotty, but the populations appear to have been relatively stable until the 1970s when Ted began visiting the island.  A report in 1978 showed a sharp drop in population, a trend that continued until an airplane survey found the island empty in 2009.

“All I know is that when I’m not eating penguin I am thinking about eating penguin, they are that delicious,” Ted added, “so I am especially concerned that the entire population on this island has been eaten – I mean wiped out by unknown and mysterious causes. Yeah, its a big mystery. I’m sure global warming had something to do with it,” Ted concluded prior to embarking to locate new and previously unknown emperor penguin colonies.

Source:  

http://biologists-document-loss-of-emperor-penguin-colony/

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HEADLINE – Republican Leader “Obama as Chimp Photo Not Racist”

Posted in American Decline, Barry Goldwater, Brave New World, Evil Smiley Face, Family and Friends, Fire and Ice, Get a job, Hate Crimes, Headline, Headlines, Hubris, It's not what you think, Mad Men, News, Paying Attention, Politics, Small Town America, Stupid People, The Matrix, The Wilhelm Scream, The Wrath of God, USA! USA! USA!, Why do people in other countries talk funny? on April 18, 2011 by paulboylan


“The Chinese are cheaper than the Jews,” says Marilyn Davenport at a recent news conference.

SANTA ANA –  A prominent Tea Party organizer has come under fire for sending an email containing a photograph depicting President Barack Obama as a chimpanzee.

“There is nothing racist about comparing African Americans with monkeys,” said Marilyn Davenport, an elected member of the Orange County Republican central committee.

Davenport sent the e-mail on Friday. The “family photo” attached to Davenport’s email features the commander-in-chief as a baby chimpanzee with two chimp parents.

Nothing racist about this.

“My position would be I am concerned, knowing what the responsibility is of a president,” Davenport said. “I guess we should know his origin, shouldn’t we?”

In 2009 Davenport rose to national notoriety when she defended the former Republican mayor of Los AlamitosDean Grose when Grose emailed a photo showing a watermelon patch in front of the White House.

Nothing racist about this at all.

“There is nothing racist about predicting that President Obama will grow watermelons on the White house lawn,” said Davenport, adding that it is a “well-known fact that the blacks enjoy watermelon after eating fried chicken.”

Totally not racist.

“They also enjoy malt liquor,” Davenport added.

Davenport defended former Newport Beach City Councilman Dick Nichols when Nichols objected to beach improvements because Mexicans would utilize the improvements.

Dick Nichols – not a racist.

“There is nothing racist about complaining that there are too many Mexicans using our local beaches, ruining it for the rest of us,” Davenport said, adding that it is a “well-known fact that your basic Mexican isn’t as clean as normal people.”  Davenport went on to state that “those people” should speak English.

Ruining our white beaches.

Davenport also defended a Republican women’s club in San Bernardino County that sent out a  newsletter with a fake “food stamp” showing Barack Obama surrounded by fried chicken, watermelon and ribs.

If you think this is racist, then you are a racist for thinking that.

“There is nothing racist about associating the president – who is half-black – with fried chicken, watermelon and ribs,” Davenport said, adding that it is a “well-known fact that many people on welfare, almost all of them black, use food stamps to purchase fried chicken, watermelon, ribs and Kool Aid. Those people just love Kool Aid,” Davenport opined.

Nothing racist about this whatsoever.

Davenport’s supporters argue that the entire controversy is a big misunderstanding.

“All Marilyn was doing was sharing a racist joke with a few of her closest racist friends, which is nothing more than an exercise of her rights of free speech as an American citizen.  If Marilyn is guilty of anything, she is guilty of not taking the time and care to identify her truly racist friends, and separate them from those she knows who are just pretending to be racist,” said an anonymous source close to Davenport.

Her supporter was wearing this t-shirt.

“I think it’s only racist when the intent in my heart is to make it that way, and that was not the intent in my heart,” Davenport said outside her suburban ranch-style home.

In her heart she knows she isn’t racist.

“I’m gaining weight, my period has stopped, I have morning sickness but I’m not pregnant,” said Davenport’s 18 year old niece, Buffy. “A person can only be pregnant if they personally think they are pregnant, and if they don’t think they are, then they aren’t.”

Buffy Davenport

“In my heart I know I’m not pregnant,” said Buffy as she tried to cross a busy highway on foot because, in her heart, she “intended” the freeway to be a garden path.

An unknown person who received the email from Davenport was offended and reported the incident to the local media.  Davenport and her supporters are attempting to ascertain the identity of this “race traitor.”

Sources:  

http://www.nydailynews.com/news/politics/2011/04/17/2011-04-H 

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/us_obama_offensive_email;_ -

HEADLINE – Serial killer sentenced to death dies in prison

Posted in American Decline, Antique surgical instruments, disembodied heads of the rich and famous, Evil Smiley Face, Family and Friends, Get a job, Headline, Headlines, Mad Men, News, Our animal friends, Photography, Politics, Pop Culture, Post Modern Knock-Knock Jokes, Science, Small Town America, The Wilhelm Scream, Uncategorized, USA! USA! USA!, What are you sick or something? on April 9, 2011 by paulboylan

Warden Henderson learning the news.

COLUMBUS, Ohio — An elderly Kentucky con man who pleaded guilty to five slayings in Wisconsin and Ohio — and was on death row for his most recent crime — has died in prison of natural causes, an Ohio prisons spokesman said Friday.

Edward Edwards, 77, died Thursday night at the Corrections Medical Center in Columbus, where he was being held, spokesman Carlo LoParo told The Associated Press. An autopsy determined that he suffered a heart attack during the night and died peacefully in his sleep.

“Edward’s untimely death is nothing less than a tragedy,” said LoParo. “The Warden is totally bummed.  He had an outfit picked out for the execution. And the deposit on the post-execution luncheon is nonrefundable, so that’s gone, too.”

“This may ruin my chances for a modeling career,” said Cindy Henderson, Queen of the Execution Day parade. “The Execution Day parade organizers said I have to return the tiara.”

“We just gotta figure out a way to fry these guys faster,” said Skip Obrien, Director of Justice for All, a pro death penalty advocacy group. “This guy died in his sleep before we could throw the switch. It is really embarrassing.”


Source: http://www.ajc.com/news/nation-world/serial-killer-sentenced-to-904064.html

Declaration of Sentiments and Resolutions – and Ray Gun Girls

Posted in 3D, Antique surgical instruments, Art, Astronomy, Avatar, Barry Goldwater, Battlestar Galactica, Brave New World, Cinema, dada, Droit de Suite, Droit Moral, космическая девушка, космическая девушка space girl, Fair Use, Family and Friends, Fire and Ice, Free Utilization Doctrine, French Impressionistic Knock-Knock Jokes, Fritz Lang, German Reformation Knock-Knock Jokes (1520-1553), Globalization, Hapax Legomenon, Harvey Eisner, Isnt nature wonderful?, It's not what you think, Joseph Bleckman, Life, Mad Men, morbidly obese French revolutionary philosophers, morbidly obese gymnasts, Nichola Tesla, Paying Attention, Photography, Pop Culture, Post Modern Knock-Knock Jokes, Research and Development, Review, Romance Language Knock-Knock Jokes, Rotwang, Science, Science Fiction, Space, Stargate Universe, Steampunk, Stoats, Sumerian Knock-Knock Jokes, Television, The Matrix, The River of Time, The Wilhelm Scream, TV, Uncategorized, USA! USA! USA!, Weird Stuff, What are you sick or something?, Why do people in other countries talk funny? on March 11, 2011 by paulboylan


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By now you know I kind of dig Space Chicks.

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In addition to writing substantively on the historical, sociological and geopolitical aspects of Space Chicks, my purely scholarly passion led me to become the worlds leading authority on subject.

Professor Boylan presenting a paper on Space Chicks at the University of Johannesburg, South Africa, in 2006

When I first determined the importance of Space Chicks as a pop culture phenomenon,  I soon observed that there is an important Space Chick subset that is best described as “Ray Gun Girls.”  Simply put, a Ray Gun Girl is a girl often, but not always, wearing a space suit in close proximity to a ray gun, often, but not always holding the ray gun.

Like Space Chicks in general, Ray Gun Girls first appeared on the cover of pulp magazines.

And when Space Chicks migrated from pulp novel covers to film and television, Ray Gun Girls began showing up there, too.

In all honesty, most Ray Gun Girl images are fetish driven manifestations of arrested male adolescent wish fulfillment, amounting to little more than soft core pornography.

However, as the years went by science fiction matured, and Space Chick images began to include strong, capable women who were fully realized heroic figures as complex and detailed as any male hero. As this happened, the images of Ray Gun Girls also evolved into something more serious and less sexist.


To me, the entire phenomenon is really quite fascinating. I don’t have the time or inclination to explore in this blog why there is such a driving interest to depict women holding ray guns.  The psycho-sexual implications alone would fill more space than I have to work with here. However, it is worth noting that the Ray Gun Girl concept is distancing itself from sex object utility and is increasingly being seen as a sign of feminist empowerment.


I’m taking the time here to provide you with the opportunity to judge for yourself.  Below is a gallery of Ray Gun Girl drawings and photos representing only what I was able to download in a few minutes before I gave up and went on to more serious business.  Nevertheless, this incomplete sample is the most comprehensive collection of Ray Gun Girl pics anywhere on or off the internet.

I present them in the order my computer imposed due to file title.

[If you don't see any gallery below, then you need to go back up to the top and click on the link entitled something like "The Ultimate Ray Gun Girl Gallery."

I take no responsibility for any offense that may result from anyone accessing and scrutinizing any of the photos in that gallery.]

HEADLINE- Rep. Chris Lee resigns after reports of Craigslist flirtation

Posted in American Decline, Art, Barry Goldwater, dada, disembodied heads of the rich and famous, Droit Moral, Early Elizabethan Knock-Knock Jokes, Family and Friends, Free Utilization Doctrine, French Impressionistic Knock-Knock Jokes, German Reformation Knock-Knock Jokes (1520-1553), Hapax Legomenon, Headline, Headlines, Hubris, Humor, Internet Fun!, Isnt nature wonderful?, It's not what you think, Mad Men, Moral Rights, morbidly obese French revolutionary philosophers, morbidly obese gymnasts, News, Our animal friends, Paying Attention, Photography, Politics, Pop Culture, Post Modern Knock-Knock Jokes, Pycho-Social Trauma, Small Town America, Stupid People, Sumerian Knock-Knock Jokes, The Matrix, The Wilhelm Scream, The Wrath of God, Travel, Why do people in other countries talk funny? on February 12, 2011 by paulboylan

MUNCIE, Indiana - Rep. Chris Lee of New York abruptly resigned after a gossip Web site reported that the married Republican had allegedly sent flirtatious e-mail messages and a shirtless photo of himself to a woman he met online.

“In February of 2011 Representative Chris Lee was found to have been posting personal ads on Craigslist looking for women and lying about his age and marriage after e-mails and risque photos he sent to a woman were uncovered.”


“The liberal media is at it again,” said Shirley Blond-Bigbreast, Fox News anchor and GOP apologist.


“The real story here is that this latest incident is proof that the Republican Party is making progress solving right wing sex scandals,” Blond-Bigbreast said.  “Sure, Chris Lee solicited multiple strangers on the internet for sex and lied to them about his age and marital status, but least he isn’t gay.”


Sources:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2011/02/09/AR2011020906912.html

http://gawker.com/#!5756377/craigslist-congressman-resigns

Filed Under: RepublicansCongressRepressed homosexuality among conservatives
Tagged: chris leechris lee craigslistchris lee resignationchris lee shirtlesschris lee trying to look buff to impress what he clearly hopes is a stupid woman


HEADLINE – Accidental Falls a Leading Cause of Head Injury

Posted in Family and Friends, Fire and Ice, French Impressionistic Knock-Knock Jokes, Getting it Right, Headline, Headlines, Hubris, Humor, Isnt nature wonderful?, It's not what you think, Life, News, Paying Attention, Post Modern Knock-Knock Jokes, Pycho-Social Trauma, Rage Against the Machine, The Wilhelm Scream, The Wrath of God, Travel, Victorian Era Knock-Knock Jokes on January 26, 2011 by paulboylan

MUNCIE - About 2.8 million children and 2 million people aged 65 and older are treated each year at U.S. hospital emergency rooms for head injuries due to accidental falls, says the Open Head Wound Institute (OWHI) located in Muncie, Indiana.

“That accounts for 15% of all head wounds,” says Dr. Krista Schnurstein, Director of OWHI’s Open Head Wound Research and Development Department. “The other 85% of head wound incidents are attributed to angry wives,” Schnurstein continues.

Source:  http://news.yahoo.com/s/hsn/accidentalfalls-

A SHORT CONVERSATION WITH MY WIFE

Posted in American Decline, Brave New World, dada, Droit Moral, Family and Friends, Hapax Legomenon, Hate Crimes, Headline, Headlines, It's not what you think, Joseph Bleckman, Life, Mad Men, morbidly obese French revolutionary philosophers, News, pandemic, Paying Attention, Politics, Pop Culture, Post Modern Knock-Knock Jokes, Pycho-Social Trauma, Small Town America, Steampunk, Stupid People, Television, The Matrix, The River of Time, The Wilhelm Scream, The Wrath of God, Travel, Why do people in other countries talk funny? on January 22, 2011 by paulboylan

So I was in bed last night watching television with my wife and we were discussing gun control.

There is no more divisive issue sui generis to the American experience and national psyche than the question of gun control.  I am often asked to appear as a guest speaker on topics touching on constitutional rights.  I always begin those talks by quickly describing my travels and experience living and working with people from similar and vastly different cultures.  Because of my exposure to different cultures I am very much aware of what makes Americans different from anyone else on earth. I also know that very few Americans are aware of that difference.

So I ask groups of people whenever I can what it is that makes Americans different and distinct as a culture.  It often isn’t easy for them to determine because they’ve never considered the question before. Most of them have never been more than 50 miles from where they were born and most of them live near people who look, talk and think the same way they do.

But eventually the Socratic method succeeds in helping my audience discover the truth – i.e,  that it is the rights we enjoy as Americans that makes us fundamentally different.  Americans experience a level of freedom no one else in the world can exercise.

Which prompts the inevitable follow-up question. I ask “What freedoms are uniquely American?”

The answer I get varies from audience to audience, but I am always surprised how often the answer is the right to bear arms.

Those who believe this, of course, are wrong.  The right to bear arms isn’t fundamentally or uniquely American.  The Taliban in Afghanistan believe the same thing and are willing to kill anyone who attempts to compromise their right to own and use fire arms.

I bring this up only to illustrate how important it is to own firearms to many, many Americans.  It is so important that millions of Americans value the right to bear arms above the rights of speech, assembly and movement.

I am not that extreme in my views, but I do feel the right to bear arms is an important right if for no other reason than it is expressly mentioned in the American Constitution.  My wife disagrees.  She believes that the American Founding Fathers’ viewpoint is important, but not controlling because time has made their worldview – their original intent – absurd.

You can see her argument best expressed here:

http://www.examiner.com/video

 

Gun control is a fairly hot topic, which is why my wife and I were discussing the topic while watching television last night.

The recent horrific shootings in Tuscon, Arizona are at the forefront of all of our minds. My wife is upset and believes Arizona should have more potent gun control regulations.  In the heat of our discussion she said “guns kill people.”

I was ready for that argument. “Blaming guns for killing people,” I retorted, “is like blaming spoons for obesity.”

I felt pretty good about that statement. It was eloquent and elegant, bordering on poetry.

We sat in silence a while, me feeling a bit smug, and then my wife said:

“Yeah, but if crazy people were running around killing 9 year old girls with spoons, I bet we would have some spoon control laws pretty quick.”

God, I love my wife.


HEADLINE – Nun’s Bones Found in Monk’s Bag

Posted in Art, Artists Rights, Barry Goldwater, disembodied heads of the rich and famous, Early Elizabethan Knock-Knock Jokes, Family and Friends, Globalization, Headline, Headlines, Life, Mad Men, News, Our animal friends, Smiley Face, The Wilhelm Scream, Travel, Weird Stuff, Why do people in other countries talk funny? on January 20, 2011 by paulboylan

MUNCIE – Three monks and one pastor were arrested at the Eleftherios Venizelos airport in Athens, Greece after security personnel discovered the remains of Eleni Vathiadou, a former nun, in their luggage as they tried to board a flight to Cyprus.

The four suspects provided Greek authorities with conflicting explanations.

“I was holding that bag for a friend,” said Father Spiro Papastavros.

“Look man, those bones are intended for my own personal use only,” said Father Gus Poulos. “I wasn’t going to sell them.”

“My sister sent them to me,” claimed Father Nicholas Dimos.

“In my defense, she was delicious,” said Pastor Ted Schultz.

Source:

http://news.travel.aol.com/2011/01/19/monk-caught-with-nuns-skeleton-in-luggage/?icid=maing%7Cmain5%7Cdl6%7Csec2_lnk1%7C37641

The Curmudgeon and the Elf

Posted in Family and Friends, German Reformation Knock-Knock Jokes (1520-1553), Joseph Bleckman, Photography, Small Town America, Stoats, Uncategorized on December 28, 2010 by paulboylan

She decided it was a fine idea to play Uncle Paul’s bald head like a bongo drum.

Apparently there is a vid of it.  That vid will never see the light of day.


HEADLINE – Africa’s “terrible hairy fly” found in Kenya

Posted in Family and Friends, German Reformation Knock-Knock Jokes (1520-1553), Headline, Headlines, Joseph Bleckman, News, Travel, Uncategorized, What are you sick or something?, Why do people in other countries talk funny? on December 8, 2010 by paulboylan

NAIROBI (Reuters) – After a long search, authorities in Kenya have finally located an insect dubbed the “terrible hairy fly,” experts said on Wednesday.

“This is no ordinary fly,” said Scooter Iverson, Director of the Kenyan Institute of Civility in Nairobi. “Most flies are fairly courteous and well-mannered. But this fly is truly terrible.  This fly habitually ‘dines and dashes’ at restaurants, running out without paying his bill.  He stole a wheelchair from a crippled child. He has sexually harassed countless woman.  And his lack of commonly expected grooming is simply shocking.” Iverson says.

“Get that camera out of my face,” says the fly to reporters attempting to obtain an interview. “No one can prove anything.  It wasn’t me – it was some other hairy fly. I am being discriminated against because of my religion. I harassed no one,” the fly shouted before driving off in a 1971 Honda 600 Coupe.



Source: http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20101208/od_nm/us_kenya_fly;_ylt=AncWNOqPteMVdUneNa7w8zWs0NUE;_ylu=X3oDMTFmdjVsaGUxBHBvcwMxOTUEc2VjA2FjY29yZGlvbl9vZGRfbmV3cwRzbGsDYWZyaWNhMzlzcXVv

WEBSITE OF THE WEEK: Nietzsche Family Circus

Posted in American Decline, Artists Rights, Barry Goldwater, Berne Convention, dada, Droit de Suite, Droit Moral, Early Elizabethan Knock-Knock Jokes, Fair Use, Family and Friends, Free Utilization Doctrine, French Impressionistic Knock-Knock Jokes, German Reformation Knock-Knock Jokes (1520-1553), Hapax Legomenon, Internet Fun!, It's not what you think, Joseph Bleckman, Mad Men, Moral Rights, Op Ed, Our animal friends, Parody, Paying Attention, Pop Culture, Post Modern Knock-Knock Jokes, Pycho-Social Trauma, Romance Language Knock-Knock Jokes, satire, Small Town America, Stoats, Sumerian Knock-Knock Jokes, The Wilhelm Scream, Victorian Era Knock-Knock Jokes, Why do people in other countries talk funny? on November 20, 2010 by paulboylan

I don’t know if this is taking place in any other part of the world, but here in the U.S. of A. virtually every newspaper has featured a daily cartoon entitled “the Family Circus.”  Here is an example:


I hate this cartoon strip.  Please note that I am using the word “hate” in reference to the Family Circus cartoon series.  First, it isn’t funny.  At most, it is merely cute, and cuteness doesn’t sustain any meaningful interest. Second, and more importantly,  the  Family Circus cartoon series represents – and works to reinforce and therefore perpetuate – just about every evil that slowly works to subvert American greatness.  The cartoon strip champions mediocrity.  It laughs at – and accepts – idiocy in thought, attitude and behavior.


The Nietzsche Family Circus pairs randomized Family Circus cartoons with randomized Friedrich Nietzsche quotes, and by doing so, not only is wonderful parody but brilliant and piercing satire, e.g. -

Man is something to be overcome. What have you done to overcome him?

And, from my very limited and idiosyncratic viewpoint, the random parings are also very dada, which, for me, provides added value and elevates the Nietzche Family Circus to art.



Please enjoy:


http://www.losanjealous.com/nfc/


And, as a bonus for my mate, Flinthart, here is a Family Circus cartoon quoting H.P. Lovecraft:



A Grim Fairy Tale: THE SOMBER TURKEY

Posted in Early Elizabethan Knock-Knock Jokes, Family and Friends, Fiction, Food, French Impressionistic Knock-Knock Jokes, Fritz Lang, German Reformation Knock-Knock Jokes (1520-1553), Humor, Isnt nature wonderful?, Joseph Bleckman, Mad Men, Our animal friends, Parody, Photography, Politics, Post Modern Knock-Knock Jokes, Romance Language Knock-Knock Jokes, Sumerian Knock-Knock Jokes, The Wilhelm Scream, Victorian Era Knock-Knock Jokes, Why do people in other countries talk funny? on November 14, 2010 by paulboylan

Most of you who visit here know that I am an attorney – and a happy one, content in my work and honored to be part of one of the Great Professions.

But before I shook the dust out of my brain and decided to make something of myself, I fancied myself a writer – or at least thought I would write professionally one day.

During that phase of my wasted youth I wrote a series of terrible and really inappropriate children’s stories I called Grim Fairy Tales.  They were told by Brother Grim, an old man who owned and operated a convenience store. One night a bad storm forced brother Grim and a small group of children to spend the night in Brother Grim’s store.  The lights and phone were out, so Brother Grim entertained them with stories told in the dark, while the wind and rain howled and rattled the windows.

Hello, children. I am Brother Grim. Would you like to hear a story?

What follows is one of those stories.  I post it every November as we North Americans get closer to our Thanksgiving feast – which invariably features a big roasted turkey.

It is that time of year again.  My friends, I give you…

The Somber Turkey

Once upon a time, outside of the Kingdom of Woodland, east of Winters, in the Land of California, there lived a happy turkey farmer named Hannigan.  He loved raising turkeys, killing them, and selling them – in part or in whole – to clients all over California – where turkey eating was a big thing, especially during Thanksgiving and Christmas.


On Hannigan’s turkey farm lived a happy turkey named Norman.  Norman was the happiest and most contented turkey the world had ever known because he was the biggest turkey anyone had ever seen.  Farmer Hannigan often brought other humans to marvel at Norman’s size and physical beauty.

“That’s gonna be some big turkey,” the human visitors would always say.

“Yep,” Farmer Hannigan would always reply.

Farmer Hannigan was happy, which made Norman happy. Norman was proud of the fact that he was so big and fat with lots of white meat, whatever that was.

The other turkeys knew how Norman felt, because he was always bragging about himself.

“I’m gonna be some big turkey!” he would say.

The other turkeys got fed up with Norman’s bragging.  One day Leonardo decided to do something about it.

Leonardo was not an especially big or happy turkey. Not being big didn’t make Leonardo unhappy.  He could give a rat’s ass about how big he was.  He didn’t buy into that neo-fascist farmcentric value system.  Leonardo was a fiery-eyed revolutionary with a strong interest in pragmatic Marxism.

Leonardo

“You are one fine, big turkey,” Leonardo said to Norman one day.

“Yes, I am,” Norman preened.

“You know what they’re going to do to you because you’re so big?” Leonardo asked.

“Admire me,” Norman said, meaning it.

“Sure they are.  They’re going to admire how good you taste,” Leonardo said.

“I beg your pardon?” Norman asked.

“They’re going to eat you, buddy.  In a couple of months they’re going to catch you, kill you, cut off your head, pull out all of your feathers and your internal organs, cook you and eat you, and they’re going to pick you first because you’re so big.  Lots of white meat.”

“Oh, my god!” Norman said.  “They’re going to eat me!”

Norman realizing the truth.

“You mean you didn’t know?”

“No!”

“Everyone else knows.  Why do you think that so many turkeys die while they’re drinking water?”

“Because they forget to breath?”

Leonardo laughed. “You believe that?  It’s a lie invented by the Man.  Have you ever forgotten to breath?”

“No.”

“Of course not. You got to be really stupid to forget to breath.”

“But we are pretty stupid.”

“No we’re not.  That’s just a lie to keep us down, to ruin our self esteem so we will be easy to exploit and so we won’t cause any trouble.  I’ll tell you why some turkeys die drinking water. Depression.  They’re depressed.  Why else do you think those other “stupid” things happen?  Why do you think some turkeys kill themselves by opening their throats in the rain and drowning?  Why do you think hens sit on their eggs so hard they break the eggs?”

“Oh my god, they’re killing their babies,” Norman said, in horror.

“Right.  They know what’s in store and they can’t take it. Would you want someone to eat your babies?”

“No,” Norman said.  “What can I do?” he asked, whispering in abject terror.

“Maybe I can get you out of here,” Leonardo said.  “On the outside there is an underground network of birds and humans who can take you to a place where you will be free.”

“Interested?”

“Of course!”

“Okay  I’ll see what I can do.”

Time went by.  Leonardo often spoke with Norman, teaching the bigger bird the truth about the world, teaching him hatred for the seemingly unbreakable power structure that doomed him and his race to be imprisoned, enslaved, slaughtered and devoured by killer apes.

“But remember,” Leonardo cautioned one night. “Not all humans are ravenous cannibals.  Some are good, and eat only plants and bugs.  These are the ones that help some of us get away.”

“How?” Leonardo asked in the star lit darkness.

“Every now and then there is a condition called Dark of the Moon, when there is no moon out and the darkness is as total as it can be.  During this time, a human jumps the fence and opens a big box. As many of us run in as we can.  We call it the Box of Freedom.”

“Just one box?”

“Yes, one box, but it is a big box, and it is better that some of us escape to keep the flames of hope burning.”

“I hope we both make it, brother,” Leonardo said.

“Me too, brother.  Me too.”

Then came the Dark of the Moon.  The turkeys were all quiet, making sure that there was no reason for Farmer Hannigan to investigate.

Suddenly the man with the box appeared.  He placed a big box on the ground and opened the side.

“This is it, brother!” Leonardo said, running.  Norman followed.

Leonardo made it into the box.  Norman didn’t get in before the man closed the box.

“Don’t worry, brother!” Leonardo cried from inside the box. “I’ll be waiting for you in paradise!”


But it didn’t happen.  The friendly human with the big box didn’t come back.  And Thanksgiving approached.  Leonardo was right – they came for Norman first.


Farmer Hannigan and his employees placed Norman in a big wooden crate built out of slats so that Norman could see and breathe.  Then Norman was carried to a truck, to an airport, into the belly of a jet, into another truck, and onto a large lawn next to a big white house.  Eventually, humans came to set up a lectern, chairs and cameras.  More humans came.  Some talked at the lectern in front of the crowd.

And then Norman’s cage was opened and gentle hands removed him from the crate.

“My god,” one human said.  “This had got to be the biggest turkey I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s why the President is getting it,” another human said, not trying to make a joke.

Norman was brought to the front of the crowd.  One human in a black suit made a short speech to another man, also standing in front of the crowd.  Humans in the audience took pictures with still and video cameras.


And then Norman did it.  He thrust out his neck and tried to bite the man who wasn’t giving the speech.  Norman knew that he just couldn’t go gently into that good night.

The man giving the speech reached out, grabbed Norman’s long neck and choked Norman.  Other humans helped stuff Norman back into the crate.

“That is one feisty bird,” the President quipped, and the reporters laughed.


In those days it was customary for the President to display generosity, and pardon the White House Thanksgiving turkey.  So Norman was taken to a farm in Virginia, where he lived for the rest of his natural days.

Leonardo was not so lucky. He ended up as dinner for the man with the big box, who was nothing more than a thief who just couldn’t get over how stupid those turkeys were and how they would be so quite and just waddle into the box, as if they wanted to be eaten.

Which was, from the thief’s point of view, always possible.  After all, turkeys are so stupid.



Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!


THE PARENT FILES: BACK IN THE USA

Posted in Family and Friends, Food, Getting it Right, Joseph Bleckman, Life, Politics on August 14, 2010 by paulboylan

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From our home in Davis, my son and I drove to Oakland, parked the car in a lot outside the airport, took a shuttle bus to the terminal and flew to Phoenix where we connected with a flight to Philadelphia, where we connected with a flight to Dublin, Ireland, where we took a cab to the Heuston Railway station, where we ate breakfast and drank a half pint of Guinness – my son’s first “legal beer” (he is 19).

From Dublin we took a train to Galway, where we checked into the Eyrie Square Hotel, which is a about fifty yards from my favorite pub in the entire world, An Pucan, where we ate lunch and drank a pint of Smythwick.  I showed my son the university, the cathedral, the Latin Quarter.

The next morning, we took the train back to Dublin and spent two days that included: touring the tombs of St. Michan (my son touched the Crusader’s hand); eating and drinking at the Brazen Head; walking up and down O’Connell Street; visiting the only Greek Orthodox church in Dublin (a tiny thing next to a prison that housed sex offenders); visiting an exclusive (two bouncers at the door) pool/snooker hall (more interesting than it sounds) owned by former clients (Russian); touring the Guinness brewery (incredible fun); and viewing the Book of Kells at Trinity (mandatory).

Flew from Dublin to London and spent two days devoted primarily to the dead, i.e. visiting with Jeremy Bentham, Karl Marx and all those dead poets in Westminster Abby. Also met up with my oldest friend, Joseph, for dinner, amazing conversation and much wandering through central London late at night.

Then flew from London to Paris where I rented a car, drove to Caen, checked into a hotel and then drove north to the coast then east past all the allied beaches (filled with British vacationers) to Omaha Beach (virtually deserted) to commune with the ghosts that will forever haunt that beautiful expanse of tan sand.

The next day we drove back to Paris – stopping in Versailles along the way – checked into a hotel near CDG, and then went into Paris to walk under the Eifel Tower and otherwise wander around stopping at cafes to spend huge money for small drinks and to sit and watch the foot traffic – composed primarily of Italian and German tourists.

The next day we flew back the same way we came, except that bad weather stranded our plane on the tarmac in Philadelphia, causing us to miss our connecting flight in Phoenix, causing us to spend the night there (incredibly hot even before dawn) and fly the rest of the way back to California the next morning.

So here we are, back where we started.  I am seven pounds heavier.

The highlight of the trip was seeing Douglas Adams’ grave.  We traveled to Highgate Cemetery to see Karl Marx’s tomb “towering over” Edmund Spencer’s much more modest tomb.

Since my son intends on studying political science, I thought he aught to see where these two contemporaries were laid to rest (Marx was laid to rest twice: once when he died and the second time in the 1950’s when he was dug up by some of his fans and relocated to a more fashionable part of the cemetery).

But as we were walking down the path to Marx’s tomb, my son called to me and pointed to a small, gravestone off to the side.  Pens had been pushed into the soil on top of the grave.  The tombstone read:

My son and I added a pen to those marking Mr. Adams’ resting place. My son placed it there himself.

I found out about an hour ago that Michael Faraday is also buried there.  And I missed paying my respects. I deeply regret that.

But other than that, it was a wonderful experience, and likely one that will not be repeated. My son is off to college, far away, in 10 days, and thus begins a new chapter in our lives.

I am glad he touched the crusader’s hand. For luck.  I did it when I was one year younger than him and on my own for the first time in my life, and I have been very, very lucky ever since.

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DID I MENTION I DIG SPACE CHICKS?

Posted in 3D, Art, Astronomy, Avatar, Battlestar Galactica, Brave New World, Cinema, космическая девушка, космическая девушка space girl, Family and Friends, Fiction, Fire and Ice, Getting it Right, Hapax Legomenon, Joseph Bleckman, Life, Mad Men, Mad Scientists, Nichola Tesla, Photography, Politics, Pop Culture, Pycho-Social Trauma, Review, Science, Science Fiction, Space, Stargate Universe, Steampunk, Television, The Wilhelm Scream, Travel, TV, Uncategorized on July 4, 2010 by paulboylan

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Of course I have. Over and over again. Since I came to this place I have freely expressed my appreciation for space chicks.  I have written scholarly critiques of new media, expressing dissatisfaction with this television program or that new film because the program or film didn’t have enough space chicks. Conversely, I have expressed my approval when a program or film featured the proper quantity of quality Space Chicks.

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But what, academically speaking, is a Space Chick?  Is it merely a woman in space?

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The first woman in space.

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Clearly not. The media has depicted many women in space, not all of whom can be properly classified as Space Chicks.  And, where life has imitated art, only one female astronaut can be properly considered a Space Chick.

Allow me to elaborate, elucidate, pontificate and fabricate (but just a little):

As I’ve discussed earlier in this blog, pulp magazines acted as the vehicle through which science fiction entered popular culture.  These pulp magazines – published from the 1920’s through the 1950’s – embodied the motto “sex sells” and so habitually featured women on their covers.  For example:

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With this marketing heritage it was only natural that pulp science fiction magazines would feature, as often as possible, images of women, often scantily clad.

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A Space Chick who apparently likes lollipops.

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These were the original Space Chicks – objects of amorphous adolescent male fantasy.  And, as objects of early 20th Century amorphous adolescent male fantasy, these space chicks often needed rescuing from monsters.

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Film, and eventually television, adopted the pulp magazine formula and expanded upon it. In the same way that producers began insisting that any science fiction project include aliens, they also insisted that Space Chicks be part of whatever awful film or television show they were going to finance.

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But something happened that differentiated Space Chicks from their non science fiction counterparts. Space chicks were often depicted doing more than simply needing rescue and being more than merely sexy.  The Women of Tomorrow were shown to be, not just desirable, but also fast, strong, smart, capable and brave as any man.

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Cinema and television imitated the pulp formula and began depicting Space Chicks that were not just sex objects, but also intelligent, confident and professionally accomplished -little realizing that they were part of a social and political revolution.

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When humans actually began poking a tentative finger into outer space, life imitated art.  The Russians were the first to put a woman into space.  Long before they did, they tried to let their people, and the world, know what to expect.

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Make no mistake: this is a Space Chick.  We can’t see the rest of her, and her space suit is undoubtedly too bulky to determine the attractiveness of her physical charms, but her mascara, eye shadow, false eyelashes and lipstick tells us that she is ready for action.

Reality did not meet this expectation.  The actual first woman in space looked like this.

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There is a rumor that persists to this day that she was really a man in a wig.

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In any event, she was no space chick.  The United States did better, but none of the women NASA put into space can be characterized as Space Chicks. Even zero gravity – which one would think, like beer, would make women more attractive – tends to make things worse.

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Lesbians seem to adore this photo. I have no idea why.

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There is one exception – Mae Jemison:

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She is more than pretty.  She is a medical doctor. She is strong, smart, capable and brave enough to ride in the space shuttle – a crapshoot against disaster every time its engines ignite. But even more important for the purposes of this essay, her cuteness survives zero gravity. Click on the following link to see what I am talking about.

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Mae Jemison

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That isn’t just a picture. It is a pose. But that isn’t what makes Dr. Jemison a Space Chick.  What makes her a bona fide Space Chick is that, after actually going into space, she appeared as a minor characer on Star Trek!!!

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Dr. Mae Jemision is the only women who is a media space chick AND a real world Space Chick!

How cool is that?

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MEET KAREN (again) [UPDATED]

Posted in 3D, Art, Astronomy, Brave New World, Cinema, Family and Friends, Fire and Ice, Food, Getting it Right, Headline, Humor, Joseph Bleckman, Life, Mad Men, Paying Attention, Science, Small Town America, Television, The Wilhelm Scream, Travel, TV, Uncategorized, What are you sick or something?, Why do people in other countries talk funny? on July 3, 2010 by paulboylan

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About a year ago, I asked all of you to go to a website devoted to the American cable television show Mad Men and vote for my dear friend, Karen, so that she could appear on that television program.  This is Karen:

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Sister of my spirit.

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Please note the ankle tattoo. I will NOT entertain discussion of her “tramp stamp” so don’t even ask.  I’m looking at you, Barnes and Bondi.

I was at our favorite sushi bar the other day with Karen, her husband Gerald and their daughter Laney.  Gerald looks like this:

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Gerald is possibly the most interesting person I know, and I know a lot of interesting people.  He is the guy who wrote a program called Ethereal now known as Wireshark, a network protocol analyzer.  If you don’t know what that is, then you can’t say you know what is really going on.

Gerald and Karen’s daughter, Laney, looks like this:

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So we are sitting there chatting, catching up on stuff, when suddenly, and without warning of any kind, Laney gasps and says:

“I swallowed my tooth.”

Laney is very, very young, and is losing her baby teeth. Well, at the moment she was chewing on and swallowing a bit of California Roll, one of her lose teeth dislodged and went down with the food.

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The culprit.

Laney was very unhappy, but soon was eating with gusto again.

But Karen was not satisfied.

“That is Laney’s first baby tooth. I am going to get that tooth,” she said to me, her words oozing with ruthless determination. “You know me,” she said. ” I am going to get that tooth.”

The visual image was, well, rather disgusting.  Karen saw it on my face and attempted to reassure me.

“I am going to use gloves,” she said.

Using gloves was not really the point.  The concept of Karen rooting through Laney’s – well, you know – was the image that was revolting me.

“Well, okay,” I said. “But I want pictures so I can post them on my blog.”

“Okay!” Karen said.

So, stay tuned!  Pics on the way!

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UPDATE

Karen succeeded . Here is the tooth:

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Karen assures me that she “soaked it in bleach” but – from my perspective – that isn’t really an important point.

When all is said and done, that tooth has a heck of a story associated with it.  And although the details may be a bit unsavory, it really is an amazing story. And isn’t that what all of this is about?

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I WANT YOU TO PICK MY NEW AVATAR PHOTO

Posted in 3D, Art, Avatar, Battlestar Galactica, Brave New World, Family and Friends, Fiction, Fire and Ice, Food, Globalization, Hate Crimes, Headlines, Internet Fun!, Joseph Bleckman, Life, Mad Men, music, News, Photography, Pop Culture, Pycho-Social Trauma, Rage Against the Machine, Research and Development, Science Fiction, Small Town America, Stargate Universe, Steampunk, Tasmania, Television, The Matrix, The Wrath of God, Travel, TV, Website of the Week on February 17, 2010 by paulboylan

I’ve decided I need a new avatar photo.  This is the one I’ve been using:

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This is really a great photograph.  It is utterly cool in every way an avatar photo can be cool. But, despite how cool it is, no one has ever commented on it – which means no one gets it.

So it is time for Rotwang from Fritz Lang’s Metropolis to go,  but I don’t want to exert the effort of deciding which photo should be my new avatar, which means you get to pick.

I’ve narrowed the field down a bit.  My finalists are numbered below. Whichever pic gets the most votes will be my new avatar.

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REMEMBERING THE 2000 COMMERCIAL ACTORS STRIKE, PART 2

Posted in 3D, Art, Avatar, Battlestar Galactica, Brave New World, Cinema, Evil Smiley Face, Family and Friends, Fiction, Fire and Ice, Food, Getting it Right, Globalization, Hate Crimes, Humor, IN MEMORIAM, Internet Fun!, It's not what you think, Joseph Bleckman, Life, Mad Men, music, News, Op Ed, Paying Attention, Photography, Pop Culture, Pycho-Social Trauma, Rage Against the Machine, Research and Development, Review, Science Fiction, Small Town America, Smiley Face, Stargate Universe, Steampunk, Television, The Matrix, The River of Time, The Wrath of God, Travel, TV on December 27, 2009 by paulboylan

In Part One of this series, we encountered “Hello, Meteor!” – a commercial the Discovery Channel  (TDS) made during the 2000 commercial actors strike.  “Hello, Meteor!” garnered critical and commercial acclaim.  This success encouraged TDS on to assign more of their non-actor office to star in other commercials, including the now classic “Hello, Mosquito!” shown below.

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REMEMBERING THE 2000 SAG COMMERCIAL ACTORS STRIKE

Posted in 3D, American Decline, Art, Artists Rights, Astronomy, Avatar, Barry Goldwater, Battlestar Galactica, Berne Convention, Brave New World, Cinema, dada, disembodied heads of the rich and famous, Droit de Suite, Droit Moral, Early Elizabethan Knock-Knock Jokes, Evil Smiley Face, Fair Use, Family and Friends, Fiction, Fire and Ice, Food, Free Utilization Doctrine, French Impressionistic Knock-Knock Jokes, Fritz Lang, German Reformation Knock-Knock Jokes (1520-1553), Getting it Right, Globalization, Hapax Legomenon, Harvey Eisner, Hate Crimes, Headline, Headlines, Hubris, Humor, IN MEMORIAM, Internet Fun!, Isnt nature wonderful?, It's not what you think, Joseph Bleckman, Life, Mad Men, Mad Scientists, Moral Rights, morbid obesity, morbidly obese French revolutionary philosophers, morbidly obese gymnasts, music, News, Nichola Tesla, Op Ed, Our animal friends, pandemic, Parody, Paying Attention, Photography, Politics, Pop Culture, Post Modern Knock-Knock Jokes, Pycho-Social Trauma, Rage Against the Machine, Research and Development, Review, Romance Language Knock-Knock Jokes, Rotwang, satire, Science, Science Fiction, Small Town America, Smiley Face, South Korea, Space, Sports, Stargate Universe, Steampunk, Stoats, Stupid People, Sumerian Knock-Knock Jokes, Tasmania, Television, The Matrix, The River of Time, The Wilhelm Scream, The Wrath of God, Travel, TRIPs, TV, Uncategorized, Victorian Era Knock-Knock Jokes, Website of the Week, Weird Stuff, West Korea, What are you sick or something?, Why do people in other countries talk funny? on December 23, 2009 by paulboylan

If you are anything like me, then every so often – when the winter wind blows clean and fresh from the north – you are overcome by nolstagia for the halcyon days of the 2000 Screen Actors Guild Commercial Actors Strike.

Ah, those halcyon days! – when men selling things on television had to do without actors because actors who acted in television commercials wanted more money for their labor, but the major studios wouldn’t give them more money.  And so they went on strike.


Commercials got made and were broadcast without professional acting, and sometimes the results were simply wonderful.



The Discovery Channel used accounting and technical employees to act in a series of commercials that have since become legend, the first of which I feature below.

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AHHH!!!   THE ATMOSPHERE!!!!  AAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!

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WHAT AMERICANS SOUND LIKE

Posted in 3D, Art, Avatar, Battlestar Galactica, Brave New World, Cinema, Evil Smiley Face, Family and Friends, Fiction, Fire and Ice, Food, Getting it Right, Globalization, Hate Crimes, Humor, IN MEMORIAM, Internet Fun!, It's not what you think, Joseph Bleckman, Life, Mad Men, music, News, Op Ed, Paying Attention, Photography, Pop Culture, Pycho-Social Trauma, Rage Against the Machine, Research and Development, Review, Science Fiction, Small Town America, Smiley Face, Stargate Universe, Steampunk, Television, The Matrix, The River of Time, The Wrath of God, Travel, TV on December 21, 2009 by paulboylan

As I’ve often mentioned (purely as a matter of pretense), I often lecture to non American audiences. With minor exception I lecture in English.

The noted internet social analysis and general media maven, Joseph Bleckman, sent me this link that shows what non English speakers hear when they hear Americans speaking.  It isn’t a very loving or kind parody, but it is pretty funny.


RESTAURANT REVIEW

Posted in Art, Avatar, おかしなふるまいの, अजीब, Battlestar Galactica, Brave New World, buffo, Cinema, Evil Smiley Face, Family and Friends, Fiction, Fire and Ice, Food, Getting it Right, Globalization, greannmhar, 재미, αστείος, ανόητο άτομα, lächerlich, Life, Mad Men, News, neşeli, скарлетт йоханссон, смешной, Op Ed, Photography, Pop Culture, Review, Small Town America, Smiley Face, snaaks, Stargate Universe, Steampunk, Stupid People, Television, The Matrix, The Wrath of God, Travel, TV, Uncategorized, مقاطع‏ ‏سكس‏ ‏مصارعه, مضحك, مضحکہ خیز, 滑稽, מצחיק, خنده دار, سكارليت جوهانسون on December 17, 2009 by paulboylan

Last Saturday my wife and I ate at Ming Tu’s – a restaurant located at 1158 “L” Street in Downtown Sacramento.  Ming Tu’s serves Asian” inspired” food in a casual setting.

Not affiliated with Ming Tu in any way whatsoever.

Many people have eaten at Ming Tu’s.  Some of them have written reviews that can be found at http://www.yelp.com/biz/ming-tus-asian-diner-sacramento.  For example, Karina of Elk Grove writes:

“I’ve been here twice – with coworkers and with friends.  The food is definitely an Americanized version of Chinese food, but far better than Panda Express. Love their Mongolian beef over brown rice.”



Moo N of Sacramento writes:

“I work a couple of blocks from here so I have had opportunity to eat here often.  Each time I have eaten here, I have been quite happy.  The teriyaki chicken with rice is my fave and I love the fried rice too!  I love rice so if you do too you should definitely partake :-)”



My dining experience was a little different from Katrina’s and Moo’s. My meal was not as good as theirs. So this is going to be a negative restaurant review.



Over the years I’ve written plenty of restaurant reviews, may of them negative, and when I write a negative review I spend a lot of time describing what I ate and how it was served. Then I complain a lot.


I feel this is a special case. The usual descriptions of the food and service and the usual complaining just wouldn’t be enough to properly express how I feel about this dining experience. So I’m not going to describe the food or the service. I’m not going to make fun of the owner’s funny accent. I am not going to mock the handicapped busboy.  Instead, I will simply describe what I did after I left Ming Tu’s.



After I paid the bill and my wife and I left the restaurant, I immediately walked to a nearby church and prayed that God would reach down with His mighty hand and, with a fist of divine fury, smite Ming Tu’s, crushing it down to the bedrock, destroying it utterly.



I know what you are thinking. You think I over reacted.  You are thinking: “Aw, come on, Paul. The meal couldn’t have been so bad that you would call upon the Creator of the Universe to smite those responsible. “



If you are thinking this, you are wrong.  You weren’t there. You didn’t pay good money for really bad Chinese food. It was so bad that I felt, and still feel, within my rights as a God fearing Christian to call upon the power of Almighty God to send down destruction upon Ming Tu’s and punish all those responsible for my mediocre dining experience.



Now you are thinking: “Okay, Paul, let’s assume for the sake of argument that the meal you were served wasn’t very good.  Is that sufficient reason for calling for divine retribution? Isn’t being served a bad meal at a restaurant a trivial reason for calling upon the divine power of God Almighty to smite those who displeased you?”



Not at all.  And if you think that, then you probably are not a Christian.


Or you might be a Socialist.


A Socialist Atheist, that’s what you are, if you think there is anything wrong with me asking God to smite anyone I don’t like or destroy any business that has provided less than acceptable service.



Every day, ordinary people from all walks of life call upon the power of the Lord to avenge them – often for seemingly trivial reasons. My own Aunt reads the Bible every day and goes to church every Sunday – and every single day she prays to Baby Jesus that her neighbor die of a heart attack.

Her neighbor is a liberal who plays that jazz music much too loud. And he voted for Obama. Who is a secret Muslim.


But I digress.  My point is that it is perfectly okay to call upon the power of God to right any wrong, no matter how trivial the wrong may appear. The Bible shows us that God responds in dramatic ways to correct what seem to be trivial wrongs.


For example, in 2 Kings 23-25, the prophet Elisha, who had a bald head, cast a “curse unto God” at a bunch of young boys who were making fun of Elisha’s bald head.  Now, you non-Christian, socialist liberal secret Muslims will say that what those kids did was no big deal.  Well, God didn’t think so.  In response to Elisha’s curse, God sent two female bears to kill forty-two of those boys.



So Elisha called upon the divine power of the Creator of the Universe to punish a bunch of boys who made fun of him. I am calling upon that same power to smite a restaurant that served me a lousy meal.  I honestly don’t see the difference. I fully expect to see a big hole in the ground where Ming Tu’s used to be when I next drive or walk by that place.



I’ll let you know if it happens.


TURKEY DAY

Posted in Family and Friends, Getting it Right, IN MEMORIAM, It's not what you think, Mad Men, Rage Against the Machine on November 27, 2009 by paulboylan

Many of you know, I am an ambivalent American.  I am educated enough to see the apocalypse looming, but not powerful or skilled enough to do anything to stop it.  I see myself perched on the edge of the precipice watching the decline of the American Empire and view my function little different from  a biologist I met who devotes his life to assembling statistics dealing with frog species extinction, realizing that his purpose is to “memorialize the decline” of the earth’s ecosystem.

And when it all seems darkest, then comes American Thanksgiving, the Great American Feast Day, and I remember. I remember where we came from. I remember who we are.  I remember our promise.


More to follow.

MISSING BABY FOUND

Posted in 3D, Art, Avatar, Battlestar Galactica, Brave New World, Cinema, Evil Smiley Face, Family and Friends, Fiction, Fire and Ice, Food, Getting it Right, Globalization, Hate Crimes, Headlines, Humor, IN MEMORIAM, Internet Fun!, It's not what you think, Joseph Bleckman, Life, Mad Men, music, News, Op Ed, Paying Attention, Photography, Pycho-Social Trauma, Rage Against the Machine, Research and Development, Review, Science Fiction, Small Town America, Smiley Face, Stargate Universe, Steampunk, Tasmania, Television, The Matrix, The River of Time, The Wrath of God, Travel, TV, Uncategorized, Website of the Week on November 5, 2009 by paulboylan

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Little Shannon Dedrick’s disappearance caught the world’s attention.

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7 month old Shannon Dedrick

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The world breathed a collective sigh of relief when, today, Shannon was found in a box under the bed of her baby sitter – who had apparently abducted the infant.

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I am glad the ordeal is over for Shannon’s parents, but someone has to point out that their child is an alien.

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resized_Shannon_Dedrick

That isn't drool.

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Little Shannon is clearly a human/alien hybrid.  I am the last person on this or any world to so much as imply that there is anything wrong with that.  At one time some stygma might have attached to parents who gave birth to an alien baby, but recent high profile celebrity adoptions have removed much of that stygma.

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As a consequence, caring for an alien baby has become quite fashionable.

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Shannon’s parents must realize that raising a human/alien hybrid is a challenging, but ultimately rewarding endeavor.

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Every child is a special gift from God.

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For example, Shannon’s remarkably large head indicates that she will be telepathic.

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resized_Shannon_Dedrick

Knows what you are thinking.

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Telepathic children are unusually challenging because they know when daddy says “no” that he really means “yes” and when mommy says “just wait until your father gets home!” mommy really doesn’t mean it.

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Nothing but trouble

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As an alien/human hybrid, little Shannon is likely to develop the skill to levitate.

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Extra care is required.

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Like telepathy, the ability to levitate will be a job skill that employers will appreciate, but in the beginning, the parent of an alien/human hybrid must exercise extra care, such as making sure windows are closed at all times.

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Not good.

So, we are all glad baby Shannon is back, but her parents need to pay attention to her special qualities.

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HALLOWEEN AT MY PLACE

Posted in 3D, Art, Artists Rights, Astronomy, Avatar, Barry Goldwater, Battlestar Galactica, Berne Convention, Brave New World, Cinema, Droit de Suite, Droit Moral, Early Elizabethan Knock-Knock Jokes, Evil Smiley Face, Fair Use, Family and Friends, Fiction, Fire and Ice, Free Utilization Doctrine, French Impressionistic Knock-Knock Jokes, Fritz Lang, Getting it Right, Globalization, Hapax Legomenon, Harvey Eisner, Headline, Headlines, Hubris, Humor, It's not what you think, Joseph Bleckman, Life, Mad Men, Mad Scientists, Moral Rights, music, News, Nichola Tesla, Op Ed, Parody, Paying Attention, Photography, Politics, Pop Culture, Post Modern Knock-Knock Jokes, Research and Development, Romance Language Knock-Knock Jokes, Rotwang, Science, Science Fiction, Small Town America, Smiley Face, Space, Stargate Universe, Steampunk, Sumerian Knock-Knock Jokes, Tasmania, The Wilhelm Scream, Travel, TV, Victorian Era Knock-Knock Jokes, Weird Stuff, What are you sick or something?, Why do people in other countries talk funny? on November 3, 2009 by paulboylan

Culturally speaking, the United States has contributed two things to the world – popular barbecue and Halloween.

Why not both at the same time?

By “popular” I mean widespread.  No people on earth have popularized cooking outdoors over live fire the way we Americans have. For a more serious discussion, please click here. l


Considered good eating in Perth.

By “Halloween” I mean an unabashed annual celebration of the spooky.

Other cultures celebrate death.  They do it in China. They do it in Mexico.  But those celebrations are essentially spiritual and/or religious.  But not Halloween.  Halloween has nothing to do with the spiritual. It has nothing to do with religion.  It has everything to do with fun.

Every year on October 31st – when the wall between the worlds is thinnest and most easily crossed – kids and adults dress up in costumes and, when it gets dark, they go door to door essentially begging for candy – which they receive in large, monstrous handfuls.

This completely non religious festival is becoming part of the international scene.  American style Halloween is now celebrated all over the world.

Halloween in Costa Rica

Halloween in Costa Rica

Halloween in Singapore

My favorite expression of this spread is Sandra’s haunted balcony in Hamburg, Germany.

It makes sense that the Germans in particular would embrace Halloween.

Admirable Teutonic exuberance.

But I digress.  I am here to tell you – to show you – what Halloween is like here in Northern California in the small town where I live.

Blackula1

For me Halloween began with a knock on my door early in the morning.  My neighbor and his son came by to ask is they could install a portal into a dimension of evil in my front yard.  My lawn was destroyed when my home was remodeled, so I figured, heck, when would there be a better time to have a portal into a dimension of evil installed in my front yard?

A hole was dug.

digging the hole

The device was installed.

adjusting the device

While my neighbors tinkered with the field densities between the universes, a flock of wild turkeys strolled down my street foraging and decided to spend some time on a roof at the end of the block.

roof turkeys 1.0

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It was a good omen.

I decided to carve a pumpkin, but the pumpkin bin at my local market was somewhat bare with slim pickings left.

pumpkin dregs

Nevertheless, I was able to find a reasonably decent pumpkin and was able to exercise the minimal artistic talent every American is born with and which is useful only for carving faces in pumpkins.

awaiting darkness 3

The dirt from the hole that housed the portal into the dimension of evil made a couple of fine impromptu graves.


awaiting nightfall

All we had to do was wait for darkness and some unsuspecting Trick or Treaters.

trick or treat

Actual Trick or Treaters who came to my door.

I went out and bought candy to give away to the little boys and gouls who would come to my door that evening.

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In addition to the usual treats, I included in my selection the very finest fake glow in the dark sour worms I could find.

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The perfect Halloween treat.

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And then it was time to get our collective freak on.

kids 4

The device in my front yard worked nicely.  I had a switch inside the house that triggered the device whenever someone rang the door bell, causing much shouting and the occasional scream.

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It was a most satisfying Halloween.  But I’m beginning to wonder if that portal is going to harm the value of my property.

 

WHY I TEACH (IN FRANCE)

Posted in American Decline, Artists Rights, Barry Goldwater, Berne Convention, Brave New World, Cinema, Droit de Suite, Droit Moral, Early Elizabethan Knock-Knock Jokes, Fair Use, Family and Friends, Free Utilization Doctrine, French Impressionistic Knock-Knock Jokes, Fritz Lang, Globalization, Hapax Legomenon, Hubris, Joseph Bleckman, Life, Mad Men, Mad Scientists, Moral Rights, Nichola Tesla, pandemic, Paying Attention, Politics, Post Modern Knock-Knock Jokes, Romance Language Knock-Knock Jokes, Rotwang, Sumerian Knock-Knock Jokes, Travel, TRIPs, TV, Victorian Era Knock-Knock Jokes, Why do people in other countries talk funny? on October 6, 2009 by paulboylan

As many of you know, I am more than just an attorney.

In addition to being an amateur gas dynamics engineer, cheese fermentation expert and an antique podiatry tool enthusiast, once a year I travel to France to teach negotiations to law and business students at the University of Poitiers.  I am leaving at the end of this week to do it again.

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On first impression, it seems like a bad idea.  It takes a few weeks to prepare my lectures.  My classes last two weeks. Together, this means I must put my legal practice on hold for a month or more.  The University of Poitiers pays me a little for my efforts, but it doesn’t make up for the income I lose during that month.


In addition to an income drop, I feel a profound sense of isolation when I am in France.

I don’t speak much French (my students are from all over the world and my classes are taught in English).  Poitiers is off the beaten path for English speaking people, which means that, for the most part, my time in France is very lonely. Sometimes I find myself asking directions to destinations I know just for the interaction.

"Excuse me, Miss, but I cannot locate the train station on my map."

And then there is the weight problem.  Every time I teach in France, I come home weighing 10 pounds more.


French food tastes great and, frankly, when I am there I eat a lot of it.


You have no idea how good it is.

So why do I do it? Why not teach closer to home and avoid loneliness, jet lag, weight gain and income loss?  Well, I tried that but I didn’t like it very much because my American law students were just too darned lazy.

The L1 class I taught at Harvard

Over these years I’ve experimented with many teaching methods.  I’ve discovered that the best way to teach negotiations is through lectures combined with exercises where groups of students practice negotiating.  This method works extremely well to teach negotiations theory and practice.  However, my American students constantly complained about it. They grumbled about the effort the exercises require and repeatedly asked: “why don’t you just give us the answers?”


None of my foreign law or business students ever asked for easy answers. None of them ever complained about the amount of effort it takes to learn how to negotiate effectively.  All of them are in class on time and participate enthusiastically – and they do it in a foreign language: English.  A big reason why I go to France to teach – and am willing to experience sleep deprivation, weigh-gain, income loss and isolation – is because I prefer teaching non-American students.  I wish it weren’t true, but they are just better students.


There is another reason why I travel so far to teach. I believe that the American Empire is in decline. In addition to being an amateur gas dynamics engineer, cheese fermentation expert, antique podiatry tool enthusiast and a teacher, I am also a student of history – and history shows that the great empires of the world declined and atrophied when their governments became so corrupt that they became unable to solve even simple problems.  It happened to Imperial Persia. It happened to Imperial Rome. It happened to Imperial China. It happened to Imperial Brittan.


And it is happening to us.  Lobbyists for special interests are so influential that our local, regional and national elected officials cannot get anything meaningful done.  For example, there is no question that our health care system needs fixing. We spend more for less than even some Third World nations. But there is no chance our health care system will be fixed because there are too many people making money off of the system, and they are using this money – billions and billions of dollars – to pay lobbyists to buy politicians who work hard to keep thing exactly the way they are.


The same is true for any number of important, pressing problems. Name it: if it is important and pressing, nothing will be done about it.  There will be plenty of talk and maybe a law or two will be enacted, but nothing will change and the problem will definitely not be remedied. Our political system is corrupt, the corruption cannot be fixed, and so we have no chance of effectively solving the important problems facing our nation.  Our standard of living is falling. Our international power is slowly slipping away.


However, where we are falling, I believe that Europe [lead by France, Germany and Britain] is rising.  I am included in the faculty of one of the oldest and best universities in Europe.  My students will be decision makers in business, law and government. In my own small way, I am trying to influence these new Masters of the Earth.  When they are voting on treaties and drafting trade agreements that will affect American lives, I want them to remember Professor Boylan and, hopefully, judge Americans more kindly than they would have if not for my example.

I realize this sounds simplistic, even hubristic, probably illusory. But it is why I do it.

And so, once again, I will be tolerating the many indignities of international travel.

I will rent a car in Paris and make the 3 hour drive down the A-10 past Orleans, past Tours to Poitiers. That night I will have dinner (salad, duck, a glass of wine and profiteroles for dessert) at Le Serrurier, my favorite café.

Let the weight gain begin.


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