Cut to the cheese

Print media news site bookseller.com is usually a focus of attention this time of year when it announces the winner of its annual Diagram Prize for Oddest Book Title of the Year. The winner is chosen by an online poll of bookseller’s readers, and while in past years the results have shown a preference for salaciousness, this year’s winner is the wholesome-sounding The 2009-2014 World Outlook for 60-miligram Containers of Fromage Frais.

This may sound like a bit of a yawn compared to previous winners Living With Crazy Buttocks and High Performance Stiffened Structures, but the cheese tome actually has its share of controversy. A minor furor has erupted over the fact that the book was not written by a human, but an internet and database information aggregator invented by a professor of Management Science. The inventer claims the aggregator does away with the need for authors, editors, and fact checkers. And that’s not sitting so well with authors, editors, and fact checkers. It’s already been pointed out that the very title of the book is incorrect, because a standard fromage frais container is 60 grams, not 60 milligrams. Ha ha, robot writer. Go back to the drawing board.

I’m starting to wonder, in fact, if this winner was chosen for the very fact that bookseller.com readers knew it would attract controversy, and thus a greater amount of publicity.  Really, what else can explain the victory of World Outlook Cheese Blah Blah Blah over such other worthy contenders as:

• The Large Sieve and its Applications
• Strip and Knit With Style
• Baboon Metaphysics
• Soft Drink and Juice Problems Solved

Let’s not throw out actual grand, stinking oddness for the sake of a cheap headline, bookseller readers. Some commenters on the site seem to be in agreement with me, bewailing the lack of “mythic resonance” in today’s titles compared with those of the past such as The Gut Content of Six Leathery Turtles and Bombproof Your Horse. Let’s remember these titles when we send in our submissions for 2009, friends. Sometimes the promise of mythically resonant oddness is all that keeps me going.

Photo by madhavaji on Flickr

How is that prepared?

“For our lunch special, we are offering two different cat dishes today. We have the traditional grilled tortoiseshell served on a demi-batard with garlic aoli and mixed baby greens:

“and we also have the One Minute Cat Platter for those of you in a rush.

“Broasting? No, I’m sorry; we don’t do broasting here.”*

Grillcat photo by Kim Jones

*Please don’t write to me saying I’m encouraging cruelty to animals. I’m not the one who named her cat Microwave.

Red’s blues

I love a good exploded diagram. I think I could understand anything if it were explained in an exploded diagram.

Anything, that is, except for the part about the VW bus. I don’t get that part.

God of thunder and cuchi cuchi

Today’s example of storefront art is interesting in that the technique used to render it is much more sophisticated and subtle than what you see for most storefront art.

Do you see how the skin is sort of translucent, while the facial features and body of the guitar pop out at you? The skin (and also the guitar neck, and bottom of shirt) has a depth to it because it’s painted on the inside of the window, while the rest of the picture is painted on the outside.

“Ah,” you think. “This guitar shop must be a gentle place. A place where you can send your child for classical guitar lessons from a kindly old soul, and perhaps get a lovingly made custom guitar purfled with mother of pearl by a master luthier.” Well yes, this is that sort of place sometimes.

But unbeknownst to many passers-by, inside these walls lies a rock monster. This is the guitar shop owned by the legendary Arturo Valdez. Maker of the infamous KISS Battle Axe Guitar. This is the home of some serious GRAAAAAAAAH. Charo is a client as well.

Perhaps there’s a clue in the artwork about the hidden thunderous power of this place after all. Is it that the guitar neck gets larger as it leaves Arturo’s arm? Either Arturo is stuck in between two layers of guitar neck, or this guitar is being produced from his very flesh and blood. I pick the latter. Heavy rock monstrage, Arturo! I salute you.

Sugar sugar

A friend of mine once made a short film in which I played an ants rights advocate. I (as the character) offered my services to homeowners as an alternative to traditional ant extermination techniques by making sugar cube houses and bringing them to the ant infestation site, with the intention of luring the ants away and into their new elaborate sugar cube homes.

At least I thought they were elaborate until I saw artist Brendan Jamison’s sugarcube sculptures:

Now, those are elaborate. I’m calling him if I actually find myself with an ant problem. He also makes wool staircases and helicopters, which I’m thinking could be quite helpful with moth issues.

Feint oily hell

I try to be a positive person, and I especially try to be a positive person online, but there are some things that I just hate so much that I can’t keep quiet about them.  Usually when I make a post about something I hate, I get hate mail from people saying how much they hate me for hating whatever I hate. It’s rather exhausting, all this hate, so I try to remain positive.

Today, however, I am feeling a surge of hateful energy. I’m spittin’ mad. I’m ready to throw a shoe. And it’s not even noon yet. So watch out. I’m going to unleash some hate, and the object of my hate had better watch out.

Today I’m talking to you, Agapanthus. You’re my most hated flower.

Yeah, that’s right, “Lily of the Nile.” You are loathsome. I don’t know when I first came to this conclusion really, but it’s true. You are the popcorn ceiling of flowers. The cheapest solution. The easiest to deal with. Somebody builds a crappy new industrial office complex or peach-colored stucco condo unit and what do they do when told they need landscaping? They plant agapanthus.

You’re ugly when you’re blooming, you’re ugly when you’re dying, you proliferate like nobody’s business, and you’re poisonous. You’re horrible.

I have no problems with your little cousin society garlic. It’s edible, it’s delicate and it smells interesting. It can be used as a mole deterrent. More importantly, society garlic doesn’t feel the need to take over the whole damn yard like you do.

Seriously, what is your problem? I hear that in New Zealand you’re considered such a noxious, invasive weed that you have been outlawed. Bravo to New Zealand for that.

Agapanthus, I think it’s best that you just stay away from me as well as you are able. My heart and my garden are New Zealand as far as you’re concerned. Don’t make me throw a shoe at you.

Photo by Nemo’s great uncle on Flickr. Sorry for including your photo in this post, Nemo’s great uncle, because it looks like you like agapanthus an awful lot.

Etiquette & superstition: saying please

Contrary to popular belief, saying please isn’t always recommended for polite or superstitious people.

ETIQUETTE: It is a good idea to keep in mind the cultural background of your fellow conversee as well as your relationship to him when making a request. In many societies, being overly solicitous to family members or good friends is seen as a gesture of coldness or aloofness rather than respect. Furthermore, overplaying your manners can be taken by a great many people to be fake, sneaky, or condescending. “I don’t want to trouble you, but could you please pass me the salt?” can easily be taken to mean, “I know it’s awfully hard for you to pass me the salt, but if you could gather all the strength you are able in your frail body to do so, I would appreciate it.” Take it easy, especially if you’re dealing with a crusty old Chinese lady.

SUPERSTITION: You can cure poor eyesight by wearing pierced earrings bought with money received from members of the opposite sex, but only if you don’t say “please” or “thank you” to those giving you the money.

Photo by Martin Deutsch on Flickr

Get me some Craig, stat

I’m feeling a little sluggish from the weekend and really need a pick-me-up. I know it’s been less than a week since we last heard from Australian flyer-poster Craig, but I feel like he’s just what I need to get things going.

Was that last Sunday, or this coming Sunday? Damn, I hope I didn’t miss this.

Happy Second Day of Spring

Did you know that the traditional Persian New Year is celebrated on the first day of Spring? This cartoon has nothing to do with that.

It’s not an accessory, it’s my new diet

I am really enjoying looking at Jenny Llewellyn’s silicone jewelry pieces.

They’re bright and alien-organic looking, and some pieces even glow in the dark:

I think I should stay away from this stuff, however. It all looks so chewy looking that I’d be tempted to ingest it, and I have a feeling this wouldn’t improve my “what are your chances of getting a tapeworm?” score.

Then again, this might be the easy weight loss solution I’ve been looking for. Send me a couple pairs of the polyp earrings, Jenny; swimsuit season is just around the corner.