Memo to …

… the lady in the seat in front of mine at Mass last Sunday: Please choose shirts that extend below the top of your jeans when you go to church, and find pants that rise all the way up to your waist. You have no idea how distracting it was to see that you were wearing thong underwear.

… the bicyclist trying to light a cigarette while riding no-hands in the middle of the street: Idiot.

… the Department of Health and Human Services: I have never had the slightest interest in tobacco. However, whenever you subject me to one of your recent gross-out anti-smoking ads, as happens every single time I watch an episode of Soul Eater on Funimation, I get a powerful urge to buy a carton of cigarettes so I can blow smoke in your faces, you damned hectoring nitwit nannies.

Historical documents

My friend Richard has been following anime since the mid-1980s, when he was stationed in Okinawa. This past weekend he brought by a box of a magazines, many 20 years old or older. Most of them are Japanese-only, and I can’t read a word. However, I can look at the pictures, and there are lots of pictures.

Continue reading “Historical documents”

Ducks and religion

I recently came across this graphic. It’s a nice thought, but there seems to be something missing.

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Daniel Pinkwater has made a number of his books available for free download, including this odd little story, “Ducks!”

[audio:http://tancos.net/audio/ducks.mp3]

Other books include Lizard Music, about lizards, pod people and a chicken; Borgel, a journey through space and time in search of the Great Popsicle; Slaves of Spiegel, about very fat space pirates; and, Young Adult Novel, about the avant-garde and fascism.

Oh yeah, anime

I used to write a lot about Japanese animation. I haven’t lately, partly because my obsessions vary with time, partly because I haven’t had opportunity to watch much of anything at all, animated or not. If nothing else goes wrong, ((While my luck isn’t Brickmuppet bad, the past 18 months have not been pleasant.)) there is a good chance that I will finally have my place back to myself again very soon, Then I will finally watch the rest of Dog Days and some more of Hyouge Mono, and see what else might be worth my time.

I don’t know if I will be able to afford maintaining an interest in anime, though. Katanagatari, a show high on my to-buy list, is offered in two Blue Ray/DVD “premium editions,” each containing half the series. These sets are available as “weekly specials” at RightStuf for $52 each. Katanagatari is good, but it’s not $100+ good. It wasn’t a Suzumiya Haruhi-level megahit, and I doubt that it will ever be released in an affordable DVD-only edition. Ditto Arakawa Under the Bridge, a series on my to-investigate list. Such prices seem to be what we can expect for most interesting series licensed during the next several years, until Blue Ray discs drive DVDs out entirely. When that happens, this might be what to expect. If so — well, good bye, anime.

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In other anime news, Dennou Coil remains unlicensed in America.

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Feline stroke of the week:

Gingrich, who would have made a marvelous Marxist ….

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You can read the grim details and take the quiz yourself, if you dare, here.

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Fear the Death Note.

20% more electable

Any of the contenders for the Republican presidential nomination would be preferable to the current resident of the White House. So would a golden retriever, most potted plants, or any warm glass of milk. The problem is picking one who can defeat Barry Oh! in November 2012. Our choices include unprepared amateurs, inarticulate debaters, damaged goods and Mitt Romney. Can any of them compete with recycled visions of unicorns and rainbows? I doubt it.

Instead, let’s fight the phantoms with the real things:

But Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash aren’t American-born U.S. citizens, you object. Equestria is part of the Hasbro empire, headquartered in Rhode Island, USA; sure they’re Americans. But they’re too young, you say. With a slick lawyer and some expert testimony on “pony years,” that won’t be a problem. But there’s no puppy— So what? Twilight has a dragon assistant, and dragons are much cooler, and hotter, than puppies.

(I’m tempted to nominate Pinkie Pie for VP for the sake of the PP/Biden debates, but RD probably is the better candidate.)

Fun with …

(When you’ve got nothing to say, play games and post links. ((Actually, I have plenty to say, but it’s mostly unprintable.)))

… Wikipedia:

Go to your browser’s address bar and start typing en.wikipedia and report the five top results.

On my computer at home:
Surtsey
King Kung Fu
Headphones
Absaroka Range
Greasy Love Songs

At work:
Viscosity index
Cronopio (mammal)
Noble savage
Location hypotheses of Atlantis
Minoan eruption

I tried the game with the ANN encyclopedia:
Moyasimon (manga)
Tales of Agriculture (TV)
Tenchi Muyo! GXP
Junichi SATO
Phi Brain: Kami no Puzzle (TV)

(Sato has an impressive resume, including Sailor Moon, Princess Tutu, Aria and Kerero Gunsou, so I gave Phi Brain a try. I lasted half an episode.

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… Vocabulary:

DENVER – Denver Police responded to the Crowne Plaza Hotel Friday afternoon where several Occupy Denver protesters reportedly caused a disturbance.
According to reports, a group of conservative bloggers are at the hotel, which may have incited the chanting.

Did you catch that? The presence of “a group of conservative bloggers” at a hotel incited the disturbance — as if the Occupy Denver riffraff were just minding their own business until those nasty bloggers provoked them.

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If J. Edgar Hoover is a “fact-based person,” who would be a fiction-based person? The Little O, ((Not to be confused with The Big O.)) who based his 2008 campaign strategy on Chauncey Gardiner?

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Kittens:

Paging James Vogh

This is just too perfect. From today’s newspaper:

Astrologers warn against pop astrology that dooms chatty Gemini and hardworking Capricorn or decrees that dependable Taurus and sensitive Pisces are an ideal match. A person’s sun sign (the sign you check for your horoscope) is a small fraction of what determines cosmic compatibility, and it’s important to take into account the rising sign, the moon and the planetary angles to capture the full spectrum of a person’s being, said Hilary Young, a California hair salon owner who founded AstrologyDating.com.

I think I’ve mentioned before that that my sign is “No parking; violators will be towed at owner expense.”

Who is the unluckiest person in the galaxy?

Seina Yamada, of Tenchi Muyo GXP, or Ken the Brickmuppet? Consider this, this, this and this, and there’s plenty more in the archives.

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So there is a rumor that Bob Dylan might get the Nobel Prize for Literature. Well, okay. The Peace Prize is absolutely meaningless nowadays, so why not make the literary prize a joke as well? ((I am aware that some intelligent people think Dylan is a Great Artist, but in my arrogant opinion, he has but a modest talent for doggerel and none whatsoever for music.))

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High heels obviously make no sense for superheroines. ((Sailor Mars’ greatest superpower is the ability to sprint in stilettos.)) Neither does exposed cleavage.

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Some examples of the ninja in Japanese art.

Nightmares, mostly academic

From the aptly-named “Overthinking It,” an analysis of the political economy of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic:

But the strong feminist themes of the series are built on a foundation of political contradictions. The most fantastic element of the show is not that ponies can talk or that dragons exist; it is the illusion that an egalitarian society can be maintained among groups with massive biologically inherent gaps in ability and economic utility. By even the most cursory of sociological and economic analyses, the society in MLP: FiM should be highly stratified along class and racial lines. And there are clear signs of that stratification, except they are obscured by a propagandistic focus on the power of “friendship”.

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“Unoriginal,” yes; “genius,” no:

… Goldsmith describes a course he teaches entitled “Uncreative Writing.” In this course, “students are penalized for showing any shred of originality and creativity,” and rewarded for “plagiarism, identity theft, repurposing papers, patchwriting, sampling, plundering, and stealing.” The course also involves such misadventures as modifying Wikipedia pages by inserting additional spaces between words and holding classes within the online game Second Life. The final exam consists of purchasing a paper from a paper mill and presenting it to the class as one’s own, on the basis of answering the question, “Is it possible to defend something you didn’t write?”

See also Professor Mondo’s note on Pierre Menard.

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I ain’t no damn academic and never will be, thank God.

“Gene, your writing style is very clear and concise. Very muscular. But it is not academic writing. It is popular writing. If you persist in writing clear prose, you will never get far in academic writing. Academic writing must be turgid and convoluted. You must force your reader to read your sentences four and five times before she can understand what you are trying to say. You must obscure the concepts that just anyone can understand. You must, as literally as possible, grab your reader by the throat and pull her face into the text, holding her captive until she can escape by understanding the essay in full after struggling and wrestling with your words.”

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Announcing the Société des Bozars:

We grant that television is a tragic addiction, and we yield to no one in our sympathy for its unfortunate victims. But why must the rest of us be prisoners of other people’s filthy habits?
Join the Société des Bozars today and raise your standard against aesthetic pollution. Make a pledge to patronize only establishments with no visible television sets.

One bonus of joining is that you need never set foot in an airport concourse or a McDonald’s again.

Utopian proposal of the week

If Fillyjonk were the Benevolent Dictatrix of the World:

There would be “quiet hours” in most neighborhoods from 9 pm until 7 am. Anyone caught driving a boom car, mowing, leaving their dog staked outside to howl, whatever…they pay a fine. If they persist in violating, the noise making object is taken away from them.

(Via Dustbury.)

On bad nights, I favor a “three strikes, and we stand you up against the wall and shoot you” policy for boom car operators.

Prelude to a sleepless night

I’d like to meet the man who invented the subwoofer. I don’t want to shake his hand; I want to slug him in the solar plexus. It is hard to think of any other innovation that has done as much to make life in the 21st century needlessly unpleasant. I feel lousy tonight, and I’d like to go to bed early. However, the inhabitants of my neighborhood believe that it is their inalienable right to party all night long on weekends, and that includes playing bad music loudly. I cannot not listen to music, no matter how stupid, and low bass notes can penetrate ten feet of concrete. Sometimes the neighbors will turn the garbage down or off if I ask them, but I have to get out bed and dress first, and when I get back home, it can be an hour before I’m drowsy enough to think about sleep again.

I’ve observed many times that the worse the music, the more loudly it is played. My hypothesis is that the chief pleasure in playing rap, techno ((“Disco for robots”)) and the like lies not in what minimal musical virtues the recordings might have — you’d have to be pretty damned stupid to find such drivel intellectually or aesthetically interesting — but in tormenting those who cannot escape the exaggerated, mindless beat.

Notes for a November Monday

It looks like a lousy year for fall color. Maples that are usually brilliant red at this time are merely brownish orange. However, roses are doing just fine.

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Today’s forecast. I probably should have stayed in bed.

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If you’re wondering my political affiliation is, it’s with the Wet Blanket Movement:

I too have a fervor—a fever, in fact—for political inactivity. I want to be part of a movement that makes electoral politics so boring that rather than having term limits, we’ll need laws requiring politicians to serve their full term. I want to join a party that make politics and government work so dull that political journalists and elected officials dream of leaving their fields for the exciting worlds of actuarial science and telemarketing.

I want to thrown in my lot with others who want to throw a wet blanket over politics and whose desire is to dampen the enthusiasm for all forms of political activity. I want to consort with citizens who are willing to arrest the ardor, dash the devotion, sap the spirit, and zap the zeal from anything that remotely resembles political enthusiasm. I want to create a new party, dedicated to the mastery of the art of anti-propaganda and committed to the conscientious devotion of alert inactivity.

If this is your dream too, then I hope you’ll join me in the Wet Blanket movement.

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Don’t take seriously what the “experts” predict:

The dismal performance of the experts inspired Mr. Tetlock to turn his case study into an epic experimental project. He picked 284 people who made their living “commenting or offering advice on political and economic trends,” including journalists, foreign policy specialists, economists and intelligence analysts, and began asking them to make predictions. Over the next two decades, he peppered them with questions: Would George Bush be re-elected? Would apartheid in South Africa end peacefully? Would Quebec secede from Canada? Would the dot-com bubble burst? In each case, the pundits rated the probability of several possible outcomes. By the end of the study, Mr. Tetlock had quantified 82,361 predictions.

How did the experts do? When it came to predicting the likelihood of an outcome, the vast majority performed worse than random chance. In other words, they would have done better picking their answers blindly out of a hat. Liberals, moderates and conservatives were all equally ineffective. Although 96% of the subjects had post-graduate training, Mr. Tetlock found, the fancy degrees were mostly useless when it came to forecasting.

(Via Steven.)

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Charles G. Hill on tomorrow’s chore:

I will, of course, continue to perform my civic duty. But every year that nothing is done to curb the politicization of Damn Near Everything, you can expect me to perform it with less enthusiasm. If, two years from now, someone hasn’t thrown Barney Frank into Boston Harbor, I’ll consider the entire two years a complete and utter waste.