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 | Not for Hindus ... just kidding. Random thoughts, comments on anything that takes my fancy. Strictly a my opinion only & if you do not like, don't read, agree to disagree & go away happy. No flames, (flamers OK), request for photo/green card/webcam action etc please. |
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| The Rules |
Jan 29, 2008 2:09 am
Mood: amused, 271 Views |  | A little boy went down for brekkie one morning and was told that he was old enough now to help with some chores. So until he fed the animals, he was not going to get breakfast.
Terribly upset at this blatant abuse of child labour, he took it out on the animals. Glaring at the chicken, he said, "I don't feel like feeding you today", kicked it and walked off in a huff.
He did the same to the cow. And the pig. And finally, feeling a lot better, the petulant little boy went back to the house and lied to his mother that he had finished his chores.
Now his mother was no fool and said, "I saw what you did. Here are the rules, my little man. You kicked the chicken so no eggs for you today. You kicked the cow so no milk for you today. You kicked the pig so no bacon for you today."
Just then the boy's father tripped over the cat while going down the stairs. Cussing, he kicked the cat and the boy said,
"Mom shall I tell him the rules?" |
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1 comment | |
| Talking Ball |
Jan 29, 2008 1:35 am
Mood: amused, 249 Views | When design engineers get together they often talk about football.
When middle management executives meet, they talk about tennis.
When senior management executives meet they talk golf.
Conclusion: The higher you climb in the corporate ladder the smaller your balls become. | |
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1 comment | |
| Eye |
Jan 29, 2008 1:08 am
Mood: Intrigued, 193 Views | I think this is so cool. I want one of those.
However ... it's bad enough I am so absent -minded always with music in my head, you add images in my eyes all the time ... could be dangerous.
But still, I love the concept. Totally appeals to the geek in me.
An electronic contact lens has been developed that will enable maps and videos to be beamed before the wearer's eyes.
The bionic lens has microscopic circuits fixed to a flexible plastic. The scientists who created the device say the lenses could eventually provide computer-aided vision similar to that of Arnold Schwarzenegger's robotic character in the Terminator films.
Drivers and pilots would have essential information - their speed and direction, for example - superimposed in front of their eyes, in a massive advance on the kind of "wearable displays" now available, which are spectacles that have images displayed on the lenses.
A prototype of the lens has been built, with light-emitting diodes - LEDs - embedded in it to flash up information. Its built-in antenna will use wireless technology, similar to that used in the home, to beam information to the lens, allowing wearers to surf the internet without taking their eyes off the world around them.
Babak Parviz, the electrical engineer behind the project at the University of Washington, said: "We have demonstrated some of the key technologies required to make a sophisticated functional contact lens. We hope to hook up a wireless link… for updating images and reporting the state of the lens."
Microscopic electrical circuits link up the LEDs and the antenna harvests energy from radio waves to power the lens. Holes which are each 1,000 times thinner than a human hair are etched on to the lens.
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| Blind Man vs Blond |
Jan 28, 2008 6:31 pm
Mood: amused, 227 Views | A blind man enters a bar and finding his way to the bar, sits down and orders a drink.
He suddenly taps the bloke next to him and asks, "Hey, buddy, wanna hear a blond joke?"
The man looks at the blind man and says kindly, "Look here, buddy, you're obviously blind so I'm gonna do you a favour. I'm blond. The guy behind the bar is an ex-bounty hunter and he's blond. The chap next to me is a 400-pound professional wrestler and he is blond. The bouncer is blond. The man sitting over to your left is also blond. Still wanna tell that blond joke?"
The blind man is silent for a moment and then says, "Nah, I wouldn't want to have to explain it five times."
My apologies to the blondes.
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| The Replacement |
Jan 28, 2008 6:19 pm
Mood: amused, 232 Views |  | Considering that I have spent as much time on farms as a karaoke lounge, I am wondering why I am suddenly writing so many farm-based jokes today. Oh well ...
A man was driving along a quiet country road when suddenly a rooster flew out of nowhere right into his path.
He was unable to brake in time and the rooster was suddenly roadkill. Shaken and contrite, the man pulled over at the nearest farmhouse where the rooster undoubtedly came from and knocked on the door.
The farmer appeared at the door.
"Yes?'
"I'm ... I'm terribly sorry but there was an accident ... and I'm afraid I killed your rooster. Please allow me to replace him."
The farmer said, "Suit yourself. The hens are round the back."
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| The Ventriloquist |
Jan 28, 2008 6:05 pm
Mood: amused, 232 Views |  | A ventriloquist was travelling along a quiet country road when his car broke down. In desperation, he walked to the nearest farmstead to ask for help.
The farmer was rather suspicious of him and so he thought he could break the ice by telling that he could talk to animals.
Highly diverted but dubious, the farmer pointed at his dog and asked, "OK, ask him how he is."
So the ventriloquist asks the dog, "How you doing, mate? The master treating you well?"
And he began to throw his voice and replied, "Not too bad, really. He feeds me regular and lets me help around the farm. He's alright."
Delighted, the farmer points at his prized rooster. "OK, ok, what about him?"
The ventriloquist again asks the rooster how he was doing and if the master treated him well.
Throwing his voice again, he answered, "I'm a doing quite well, phwack. He feeds me regularly and lets me shag the chickens. Life is good."
They continue walking around the farm. Spotting the farmer's horse grazing quietly, the ventriloquist goes to the horse and asks him the same question without hesitation.
Again he throws his voice to answer that the master was a good man who feeds him regularly and lets him run free all over the farmstead.
Spotting a sheep in the corner, the ventriloquist turns to it and directs the same question to it.
At which, the farmer hurriedly shouts, "The sheep lies!"
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| Exceptionally Simple Theory of Everything - An Intellectual Discourse |
Jan 28, 2008 10:53 am
Mood: Stimulated, 382 Views |  | This is in response to a comment that my posts are too intellectual by half. It rather startled me as I thought I was actually curbing my intellectual pontifications here at FF.
Just like how I would tailor topics and level of intellectual gymnastics to the participants in verbal conversation, so too do I in posts.
At another blog where I tend to be freer with my mental pursuits, I am wont to post an article of this nature. Do not read it if you have a bad head today.
A vastly engaging discourse has arisen from the latest unification theory that is so simple yet allows for the combining of three of the four fundamentals of nature - the electromagnetic, strong and weak force. Not since Einstein's theoretical physics unleashed so casually on our universe has the theory of the universe been so stirred.
Employing the elegant and tricksy E8, a unknown new theoretical physics giant has been unveiled. But like Einstein, our latest uber physicist is a surfer dude who hardly impresses with his past credentials.
I shall not go into the quantum discussions about the veracity of Garret Lisi's "Exceptionally Simple Theory of Everything" since I am no expert. But on brief perusal, it appears that he has tied up certain strings on the findings of his predecessors El Naschle, Green and Schwarz without referring to them. This has led to a lively debate on the strength of original thinking and all eyes are on his testable predictions to link up the 20 gaps out of the 248 points in E8.
I find the tie-up of ends a little too pact ... too simple as it were. It disregards say the string theory, time and gravity and confines itself to the 3 space and 1 time dimensions when we should wonder and push to see how many more we have yet to calculate, test and theorise upon. But what do I know since I lag behind Dr Surfer Dude, as he is becoming to be known, by one doctorate in theoretical physic and one theory on everything?
Still, Lisi does admit that it is early days and I am not about to close my mind to the possibility that he will revolutionise our understanding of how and what our universe is. After all, Einstein too was just a patent officer who did not publish in scientific journals when he announced his theory. Just like Lisi who surfs in Hawaii and uses words like "dude".
What I find interesting and divertingly deja vu is the scientific community's reaction to Lisi's hypothesis. The number of naysayers and shouts of theory thievery is so reminiscent of Einstein. It always amuses me that the doctorates-laden "commercial" mainstream scientists always poo poo any findings from anyone outside of the recognised scientific community. As if a doctorate is a the only licence to think and challenge conventional theorems.
When an impoverished single doctorate surfer with no affiliations with any university and no published paper before emerges with a brand new theory that is neat and probable, upon testable predictions that is, the furore is akin to your mother telling you you are adopted.
Then again, I am one to be cautious. It is a little too neat, suspiciously over-simplified and not wholly original. But then again, what really is? To suggest that Lisi is in line for a Nobel prize disregards the works of many of giants from whom he has derived his simplified hypothesis and is perversely premature prior to the test on the hadron collider (LHC).
I wish Lisi all the best and eagerly look forward to his refined calculations before and after the LHC goes online next year. I would love to meet with him and discuss his theory but the line would be longer and more fuzzy than string theory and fuzzy Kohler manifold.
This extremely fascinating article is available at TelegraphdotCodotUk under the title of "Surfer dude stuns physicists with theory of everything".
Follow all the links and read all the comments (well, except the ones that lose the plot & harp on creation theory a la religion versus theoretical physics) as they are immensely interesting.
I have not been so mentally stimulated in a long time and am now chomping on the bit to discuss this with a few friends.
So, there you have it. That is a example of what I would consider an intellectual post. Sic.
If you really would like to understand a little more about theoretical physics in layperson terms, try the book A Short History of Everything by Bill Bryson.
He explains it much clearer and with greater understanding than I, in my mental diminutiveness, could ever achieve. It is one of the most concise and clearly written simple primer for laypersons I have ever read. Vastly entertaining and humorous and just the type of book I would read on the plane.
By the way, that is the E8 pattern which looks like the sprirographs I used to draw in boredom during lectures and classes. As I am sure we all did. And one of the funniest comments to the article was when one scientist earnestly asked, "Pray, what is a dude?"
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| Honk If You Luuurrrve Me |
Jan 28, 2008 6:34 am
Mood: Cheeky, 395 Views |  | I am surprised I did not know of this till a friend mentioned it. Of course, once I did, I had to get down with the story here.
Hey, Apollo! Banzai!
That was probably what William F B Gander was thinking before he self-immolated on Apollo's face.
William F B (short for Fabio Basher) Gander, formerly of Orange County and last address Busch Gardens Williamsburg, had had enough of supermodel Fabio's face and decided to sit on it.
Taking a page from his favourite movie, Wild Geese, the intrepid but fool-hardy goose launched a suicidal attack on the bronzed behemoth of golden-haired smarminess in March, 1999.
The motives for the plucky goose's attack are unknown as we were unable to interview the aerial Rambo since he is deader than a duck. But a suicide note tucked into the windshield wipers of Fabio's sportcar hinted cryptically of a dalliance involving port, grapes and occasionally an orange.
Speculations abound though. Among them is a theory that William F B Gander was gayer than a goose and had wanted to get up close and personal with Fabio. In his excitement for a face-to-face to deliver birthday salutations to his idol, the silly goose sadly miscalculated.
The modern day Italian god of luuurrrve was at Busch Gardens Williamsburg Festa Italia section to lend his face to the opening of the new Apollo's Chariots rides. He arrived in style with a diamond stud twinkling merrily in one brawny ear, clad in black leather pants belying the 60 degrees morning sun (ah, but he is Apollo!), a Busch Gardens demin shirt and a flaming red cloak.
The latter (the cloak, not the shirt) he removed prior to riding Apollo's Chariot, due to his heightened sense of security and his concern about setting a good example for the many fifth-graders, their mothers and mothers' BFFs (best fag friends) who were in attendance.
Flanked by becoming young nymphs in virginal white, the larger-than-life poster boy sat pretty in the glorious sunlight as the ride started rising to the top.
It was then that William F B Gander spotted his prey. Like a moth to the flamer, he aimed straight and true.
"Take him out at the first drop ... take him out at the first drop ..." the gander stuck his neck out as he chanted his battle cry.
As the ride picked up speed at 73 mph and began its 210-ft dive, the Goose Formerly Known as William also took his swan dive.
It was fast. It was furious. There was blood. There was no way for Fabio to get off the ride till the two-minute ride was over. Fortunately, the virgins in waiting kept the grim-faced Fabio's spirit up while staying gingerly in their seats. No sacrificial virgins that morning.
Fabio and his bloody honker were sent immediately to Williamsburg Community Hospital for treatment upon his landing on terra firma. Fortunately it was a minor cut that only required a poultry stitch which the Italian stallion bore manfully.
The kind and civic-minded Fabio decided not to sue the park but admonished them that if it has been a child, the consequences would have been unthinkable. He scolded them for being irresponsible and that measures should have been taken.
Park authorities are now chewing on his words and contemplating the installation of giant nets around the park to prevent fowl attacks on demi-gods and children, providing Dark Vadar masks for all riders of the Apollo's Chariot and/or installing a new section in the park with life-sized, 6 ft 3 mannequins of Fabio for goose target practise as a distraction from the ride.
William F B Gander was found drowned in a river below the killing drop. Autopsy reports stated cause as death by honker. The Gander family has also decided not to sue the park or Fabio.
Wild Goose Brewery has just offered Fabio the headliner role in their latest television commercial, The Face That Launched a Wild Goose. The supermodel's spokespeople have yet to respond. |
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16 Comments | |
| Fame Costs and We Are Not Willing to Pay |
Jan 27, 2008 10:12 pm
Mood: nostalgic, 342 Views |  | It' s strange how people deal with fame. Actually, I passionately dislike the word "fame". I always think fame and power corrupts and even the slightest hint of it can be a heady concoction that will turn your head. Like Linda Blair in The Exorcist.
It's not often so many of us can gather at the same place and same time for more than a few hours. This was one of those rare occasions. The four of us had not seen each other for years.
So, we played hooky from yet another dreary industry event. It's rather hard for the four of us to disappear at the same time without drawing attention from the minders. So it was with much giggling subterfuge, plotting, out-and-out lying and cloak and dagger activities that we slipped out of our respective hotels to meet clandestinely.
Alas, the island was too small. We arrived at what we thought was a quiet, out-of-the-way cafe for light snacks and drinks, only to be seated next to a table of young dancers.
It curtailed our conversation, sending us into our usual circumspect & "media" mode. But our relative reticence enabled us to eavesdrop on the next table. Not that it was hard as they were the typical squeally, high-pitched, self-important, attention-seeking dancers in their early 20s.
We were much amused to hear some of them boasting of being "advanced" dancers at a local school, owned by a woman we had all taught at some point or other, and being in videos and such. At some point, one of them semi-recognised us. She immediately drew the others' attention and they started studying us.
At last they came to the conclusion we must be their peers as one of them asked C next to me, if we were student of Y, their teacher. It was incredibly hard to hold our mirth in. As C choked out a negative response, we could see the girls wracking their poor little brains.
I decided at that point to adjoin to another cafe as I did not want to spend the night being gracious and in "media" mode. Tacitly, we all agreed to leave.
However, one of the brighter sparks had cottoned on. As we left the cafe, we heard the excited murmurs and the unmistakable sound of greed. They had realised who we were and even had the cheek to try to follow us. Finally, I turned and announced to the young prima donnas.
"My dears ... We're old women who need our peace. Thank you for your kind invitation to join you but if you want free advice, autographs, pictures and such, you may come to the workshops next week. But tonight is ours. Let 4 old friends be able to sit and talk together alone for we might not see each other again for a long time. One day, you too would understand. Happy dancing and be well."
A student once asked me why we were so notoriously low profile and elusive. Was it a gimmick? Did we want to be women of mystery? Are we so self-important we do not see the point of marketing?
No, because someone once remarked that even in death a person could get no peace because he/she is a celebrity. Everyone thinks they are entitled to a piece of you. I told her that we were of the old school trained in the old ways. And we were nonentities who were fairly determined to stay that way. We also do not believe in being legends in our own lunch-times.
It's not fame but artistry we seek. A few, rare number of us do what we do for ourselves. Someone once argued we do what we do to be seen by others so is that not fame- & glory-seeking too?
No, because our definition of glory is different. I place very clear distinction between artists and performers. If no one ever saw me dance, I do not care. Glory is in reaching what I know is in me before I die. I know I have one to two more masterpieces before it is time to go. The moment I reach that I will know true glory. Whether anyone sees it is immaterial and irrelevant.
Why then perform on stage? Because you feel and receive a vibe from the stage. The lights, the heat, the wide expanse of space, the freedom, the shutting out of the audience till all you hear is a vacuum of applause muffled yet deafening at the same time. The sea of blurred faces. The energy. Even the floor has its own vibe.
Sometimes dancing on an empty stage all on your own is the most wonderful experience. An audience is a distraction and intrusion that is not always welcomed. My most truly creative moments have been just me alone in a darkened theatre. OK, with stagelights on as I am terribly clumsy when not dancing.
I feel sorry for the young ladies of last night. Because fame is fleeting and never enough. Your soul cannot feed on it and therefore you go hungry all the time. It changes you from a tangible sprout of promise into an incorporeal twist of desperation and superficiality. Fame once lost festers like a barnacle upon your psyche. The memory of it is bitter and avaricious.
Self fulfillment is another form of hunger but it is one that fuels your soul. Once you have tasted it, you want more but the memory of it is sustaining and enriching.
I wanted to tell them to seek the latter rather than the former for the sake of their own peace of mind. But I knew they would not believe me and the best lesson learnt is not one that is taught.
It was with much pleasure the 4 of us retired that night to our individual thoughts and memories, sharing the same journey on different paths.
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7 Comments | |
| Free Mammogram |
Jan 27, 2008 4:09 pm
Mood: Abreast of Things, 348 Views |  | Saw this picture and totally cracked up. |
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5 Comments | |
| To link to this blog (Whatsherface) use [blog Whatsherface] in your messages. |
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