… just for fun. And she’s back.
I doubt that I’m the only person who thought the 2008 Republican ticket was upside-down.
(Via Kim Du Toit.)
Via David Breitenbeck, here’s a list, “Things Mr. Welch Is No Longer Allowed to Do in an RPG.” A few items from the list:
20. Polka is not appropriate marching music.
94. I cannot base my ancient kung fu master on either Gene Simmons or Bluto Blutarski.
105. I am not allowed to polymorph anyone into Abe Vigoda.
134. The King’s Guards’ official name is not “The Royal Order of the Red Shirt”
174. There is no use of Shatner’s spoken word album that doesn’t require a humanity check.
199. My third wish cannot be ‘I wish you wouldn’t grant this wish.’
221. If I get that Yugo up to 120mph again, that’s gonna get some paradox.
251. I am not the Boogie-Woogie Bugle Boy of Gundam Wing Z.
289. My character does not have the flaw Addiction: Helium.
330. The Halfling Paladin does not represent the Lollipop Guild.
411. It is bad form to shoot a god while he’s monologuing.
476. The alignment of 2 years olds is not automatically Neutral Evil.
559. Even if the Ranger offers his sword, the elf his bow and the dwarf his axe, my gnome can’t offer his accordion.
623. Even if the rules allow it, I cannot play a Dire Gummi Bear.
651. My alignment is not Sarcastic Good.
753. No encouraging Swedish accents.
781. My tribe’s trial by combat ritual is not best described as “Calvinball with axes.”
845. It’s not a good idea to taunt Greek heroes with “Who’s your daddy?”
968. A paladin with a British accent is acceptable. One with a Peter Lorre accent isn’t.
975. There is something wrong with a 2nd level Kamikaze.
1172. My brooding costumed vigilante can’t take the flaw Dark Secret: Well Adjusted to Society.
1337. Can’t lure the Bastet into an ambush by turning on the can opener.
Yesterday’s snow is mostly gone already, but there’s more winter scheduled next week. I’m tired of the cold. It’s time for more silliness.
There are two ways I can maintain my sanity in this silly century.
1. Book a one-way trip to the nearest planet capable of supporting intelligent life.
2. Post some funny pictures.
There are no starships due this week at the regional spaceport, so option two it is.
Several months’ worth of accumulated nonsense, animal edition.
It is the first day of April, so here’s an appropriate classic.
Maureen Mullarkey defends — sorta — the Vatican’s 2020 creche:
However off-beat the interpretation or craftsmanship, the Abruzzo portrayal is as innocent of blasphemy as a Lego Nativity. It is the departure from expectation—from the protocols of established iconography—that offends critics. Falsely accused of irreverence, its installation in St. Peter’s Square insinuates an intention that the project never held….
Agreed, Abruzzo’s Nativity was unsuited for solemn display in the Vatican. Both site and timing were malapropos. Nevertheless, all the artillery fired at it should have been aimed more accurately.
The Netflix warning about a documentary concerning a man who beat women to death has two warnings: “Nudity, Smoking.”
Shamus has as clear and lucid an explanation of the GameStop business as you’ll find anywhere:
People called this a “David versus Goliath” type situation, which for me conjures up the image of a middle schooler vs. a linebacker. But in terms of weight class, this is more like a regular-sized dude versus Godzilla. Maybe David didn’t totally kill Goliath today, but given the extreme size differential I think cutting Goliath in half is pretty damned impressive.
(Via Dale Price.)
… and that’s enough reality. Now for silly nonsense.
It’s February 2, on which day bloggers present favorite poems if they remember to. Since twenty-first century culture is permeated with malignant nonsense, it is appropriate to post some benign nonsense as an antidote. Here is the White Knight’s song from Through the Looking-Glass, first read by Sir John Gielgud, and then set to music by Gryphon.
fall-of-civilization end-of-the-year roundup is Dave Barry’s, but there are others worth reading.
The world finally accepted that there are more than 400 genders, and that all of these have been persecuted throughout history. Even the ones we invented last week.
Intersectional feminism triumphed over transphobia. All of a sudden, major companies were using phrases such as “menstruators”, “vulva owners” and “people with a cervix”. All of which is far more respectful to women: or, as I like to call them, bipedal gestation units.
As the coronavirus pandemic tightened its grip, we learned, via an immensely woke Brooklynite podcaster named Billy, “What it’s like to isolate with your girlfriend and her other boyfriend.” And in the pages of The Atlantic, we were told, by Natan Last, a Brooklynite and graduate of Columbia, that crossword puzzles are one of “the systemic forces that threaten women.”
While the point of the Hololive phenomenon eludes me, I do like the video of marching VTubers that Pixy found. In particular, I enjoy the tune, “みっちりねこマーチ,” or “MitchiriNeko March,”1 by one Chiemi Takano (Joedown). It reminds me of the Kuricorder Quartet in a playful mood. Unfortunately, it’s hard to find a recording of it in the USA. The video is based on an earlier one featuring cartoon cats.
Today’s useful phrase: “platitudinal capacity.”
Though he hailed from the dusty plains of Oklahoma, Kendall himself was certainly no rube. He worked his way onto the faculty of Yale, where he profoundly influenced Bill Buckley among others. But while he had the intellect to work at the highest academic levels, he had neither the temperament nor the platitudinal capacity. Yale eventually paid him to forfeit his tenure.
Years ago, when I finally had a computer at home with Photoshop, I thought that I would at last be able to make color prints of the pictures I take. Ha. Thanks to the machinations of printer manufacturers, the final destination for all my photography is digital files. The article focuses on HP, but I can state that Epson and Canon are no better. I print maybe a dozen pages a year, and those are rarely pictures.
(Via American Digest.)
How about a little opera?
… Scarfolk was ahead of the curve.