Do you know what today is, folks? Do you know? Thirty-two years ago today, Jimmy Carter had to defend himself from a rabid swamp rabbit. My, how time flies. What? Who’s Jimmy Carter?
Aw, go back to your sofas and Doritos. I don’t care.
Word of the day for Monday, April 18th
I recently rented the documentary film Until The Light Takes Us, which is about the history of Norwegian black metal (which is not the same as death metal, thank you very much) and some curious incidents associated with the scene in the ’90s. “Curious” like murder and suicide and church burnings and such.
Anyway, I’ve watched the film twice now because I’m still trying to figure out a couple of things and I also really want Benny to see it, but every time we put it on, he very quickly falls asleep. This is not to say the film is bad, by any means; it’s just that Benny has to wake up at 4 a.m. and the score for the film is really breathy/icy ethereal stuff, not black metal.
Though he hasn’t technically watched the film, it appears that the subject matter has been seeping into his subconscious. One day he came home from work and announced that he had set up a black metal Pandora station featuring the bands Mayhem and Burzum*, among others.
“Mayhem**! That’s Euronymous’ group. And Burzum is Count Grishnack, the guy who killed Euronymous.” And then Benny directed me to a website that exhaustively listed the finest records that Norwegian black metal has to offer. It seems that there is a record label called Head Not Found, and there is a band called:
Technically, Fimbulwinter means “the great winter,” the event in Norse mythology just before Ragnarok. I think it sounds much cooler to define it as “the immediate prelude to the end of the world,” though.
*not linking to official Burzum site because Count Grishnack has a lot of opinions about blood and race that I don’t support and don’t want to imply that I support by linking to the site.
**also not linking to Mayhem’s official site, mainly because it’s your typical Myspace mess.
Etiquette & superstition: tongue tattoos
I was going to do a post dedicated to the etiquette and superstitions of tattoos in general, but it seems that the topic is one of those large ones, like fish and sailing, where it might be a better idea to narrow one’s focus in order to get a better picture. So today let’s talk about tattoos located on the tongue.
ETIQUETTE: Contrary to whatever the Weekly World News may say, tongue tattooing is not merely a fad popular with the young folks. If you happen to see a female Pacific Islander with a tattoo on the tip of her tongue, it is highly likely that she is mourning a loved one.
Photo by produzentin on flickr
Fowlard
The zeitgeist speaks again. My favorite ladies on the internets these days are madamejujujive (in case you hadn’t noticed) and misscellania. This week they both posted about fashions for our avian friends. The thing that makes this sort of interesting is that neither follows the other on the web as far as I am aware; I just follow both of them, and when they both post about a similar topic in the same week I feel like… oh, I don’t know. THE WORLD, IT IS ONE. Or something.
But you were coming here for bird couture, yes? Okay, here goes. Pigeons? We have some fine outfits for you, including this nubby dodo shrug:
And ducks, don’t fret. Even though you’re left out of the list of approved Dukan Diet birds, you’re more than approved by any fashion authority when you wear these fine boots:
As for the rest of you birds? I’m sorry; you may be S.O.L. Sorry; nobody ever said fashion was for everyone. Get your own zeitgeist.
Etiquette & superstition: pie
Flickr user Afroswede noted in his caption for the photo above that when he visited Pie Town, no pie was to be had. Pretty lame, Pie Town.
ETIQUETTE: I can not believe it. For all my crabbing about the uselessness of the Yahoo Answers forum, there appears to be a genius responding to select queries, and he is humble too. Allow me to present the majority of the response “Anonymous” gives to Dan Smith’s question about the proper way to eat pie:
“1. No matter the size of the slice, it should always be eaten in an even number of bites (not including the crust).
2. Pie should always be consumed starting from the tip, working your way to the crust. Care should be taken to ensure the freshly eaten edge is parallel to the crust.
3. You will sometimes encounter an overly generous serving of pie. These are usually served by well-intentioned folks who have no idea of pie etiquette. If you are served such a slice, remember the Golden Pie Rule, “One forkful equals one bite.” If, after a few bites, you find that the slice is too wide for one forkful, it is permissible to break that particular piece (and the remaining pieces) into 2 manageable bites, continuing on to the crust. Be mindful of Rule #1. If you find that the slice is too big to do that, politely tell the server we’re no longer living in the Neolithic Period and demand a civilized slice.
4. Once you’ve eaten the heart of the pie, the last remaining step is the crust. There are only 2 acceptable ways to address the crust, also known as “Bread’s Evil Cousin.” If the color, texture, and general overall appearance of the crust is to your liking, it must be broken into 3 separate pieces, no matter the size of it. These pieces may or may not be dunked into the beverage of your choice. If, however, the crust has bits of baked-on pie goo, burnt in any manner, or has the consistency of concrete, it is perfectly acceptable to leave it on your plate, unbroken of course.”
Anonymous, please stop being anonymous. I have questions to ask you.
SUPERSTITION: David Sedaris once had a meal at the Apple Pan restaurant in my fair city in which he was told by one of his dining mates that when he ate a piece of pie, he was supposed to eat from the crust end toward the point, and when he reached the last bite at the point he was supposed to make a wish. The person who put this theory forth acted like David Sedaris was really stupid for not knowing about it, but I have found no evidence anywhere that this is a legitimate superstition.
Lost pig
There is a character in my part of town named Rik Martino. I’ve don’t think I’ve ever seen Rik, which seems strange because I used to work across the street from where he daily buys several pounds of birdseed, and apparently he is enough of a public curiosity that the LA Times did a brief article about him.
I only know of Rik by his flyers at the corner of Rowena and Hyperion. Sometimes the flyers are advertising his services as a bodyguard and process server. Sometimes they are photocopies of fake newspaper articles hyping his movie star potential. Sometimes they are angry screeds directed at people he believes are trying to poison the neighborhood pigeons. It seems that there are some people in the neighborhood who don’t find his flyers as interesting as I do, because here’s his latest:
I know it’s dated 2/5/11, but it was only posted last week. Also, it appears that he is trying out a new spelling of his name. I’m not sure if there is a significance to either of those things. Anyway. Good luck, I guess, Rick.
Advanced Teletubbies
I have a feeling that my state of mind would be healthier if I could just go with whereever this video is aiming to take me. I’m almost there, but then some more conscious level keeps kicking me out. “Ah yes, this repetition is kind of soothing… the thing going around and the thing going around and OH GOD THAT THING IS BACK NO okay, I’m okay with that… that’s not so bad and OH THE BLOCKS WHY ARE WE BACK WITH THE BLOCKS… okay…”. If I watched this for an hour, what would I be like when I came out the other end?
