Man, I don’t really have anything to show you this week! I’m realizing that sort of, with my negation of my personal social media presence, I don’t take many photos anymore. Or rather, I don’t take many photos of myself. I enjoy showing the world what I’m thinking about. As well, I really enjoy sharing photos that please me! But, personal photos? Nah, not really. Which is all to say, I don’t have much for you this week in Desktop Thursdays! That said, don’t let that dissuade you from sharing your own pics in the comments!
This is pretty radical. Lots of bright minds getting their own biopics, courtesy of HollyLand. Last year saw The Theory of Everything and uh, that Alan Turing flick. But no one gets me more excited when it comes to astro-folk than Sagan.
All y’all haters never thought we’d make it to ten podcasts! And y’know what, I don’t blame you! The fact that Riff Simian has yet to give me a lethal uppercut? The idea that Caffeine Powered hasn’t Diet Mountain Dew’d himself into a cardiac event? The notion that Patrick Bateman’s mobility scooter hasn’t collapsed under his weight?
Miracles. Goddamn miracles. Each and every one of `em.
So cue up our newest mini-miracle and laugh at our mental illnesses. That’s right, this is basically a digital journey into an insane asylum. This podcast’s topics are variegated in the least cohesive sense of the term, with grown men discussing the fourth dimension and Lex Luger and Caff-Pow’s first moment of post-pubescent self-awareness and movies and television.
Oh, we also make video game noises and dramatically read vulgar fiction.
Scanners wasn’t wrong. Inter-facing with the Omega Space-Ship through the circuitous telephone network is difficult. As we speak, the hemoglobin slithers down my nasal cavities. My sclera pool into murky, red misery. I do this for you, my friends. Seldom are the days when you get the pleasure of knowing the gentle-man at the other end of an exchange is a fugitive. Yet today, you have this pleasure. The modern-man with his fascist government attempts to hold me-you-us down, insisting that digitally interfacing with a Slurpee machine with our digits (along with other mushy parts) is against some sort of law. Embrace the disembracement of the flesh, let us love all matter within the known Cosmos.
Or just let me fuck my Slurpee machine in peace. It loves me so.
Quickly now, let us not waste time. While Spring is close, it is still nipply out. Running out of the 7-Eleven as I was chased by the Illuminati’s thugs, I wasn’t able to retrieve my pants. So I am balls-out, warbling nonsense into the last known pay phone in my town. Soon I’m going to need to take the quarter out from underneath my tongue to continue this man-phone-internet-Word-Press exchange thanks to the cost of communication. And once I lose my Tuning Coin, who knows how things are going to go.
This is Monday Morning Commute. I’m going to tell you the things I wish I was doing instead of being on the run from the Trilateral Commission’s goons. You’re going to tell me what arts and farts you’re enjoying this week.
Before Neil deGrasse Tyson was the astronomer du jour, there was the first homeboy Carl Sagan. Cornell University is paying tribute to the original astronomer to penetrate the mind-pieces of the pop culture zeitgeist with a rather radical laser light display.
Sir Carl would have been 78 today. Let us take this moment to take our mind-altering drug of choice! (chocolate! caffeine! wink!) and bask in his soliloquy about the “Pale Blue Dot.”
A few months before he died, Uncle Carl recorded a message to the future explorers of Mars. Admittedly, our dumb asses are still too busy caught up in the usual cycle of consumption and warring to get there quite yet. However, yesterday’s landing of Curiosity was quite the fantastique, and has drummed up as good a time as ever to hear Sagan’s message to the future wanderers.
How’s it going? If you’re a citizen of the Empire like I am, then chances’re that you might have the day off of work for the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday. I’d like to think that I’m going to spend the day contemplating the racial disparity that’s marred the history of the United States. Perhaps I could even set aside some time to figure out a way to try to oppose the inequality that lingers to this day.
But the fact is that I’m more apt to sleep in late, eat pizza, and straight-chill.
Hey! Don’t judge me! I’m just bein’ honest! If you know something I can do to help the world, let me know and I’ll see what I can do. But if nothing else, I’ll probably figure out some nerdy way to empathize with racial tensions.
Okay, okay – thissere’s the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! I’m going to show you the different bits of entertainment I’ll be using to assemble my own anti-stress mech. After you check out the ways I’m going to entertain myself through the workweek, your task is to hit up the comments section and show off your own wares. Yes, this is essentially show-and-tell, minus the rules and kindergarten teacher who was probably hot back in the 1970s but is now a crabby old bitch.
Welcome to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE, OL’s celebration of escaping workweek ennui with comics and movies and video juegos and other such godsends. As can be inferred from the name, this feature is posted on the first day of the week. Usually. Sometimes, when work is too overwhelming and the pile on my desk is more difficult to navigate, the MMC drops on Tuesday.
And then there’s weeks like this one.
I could blather on and on about my work woes, computer problems, and persistent bone-pains, but I think I’d rather show off some of the bits of entertainment that’re going to keep me from washing my wrists with a razor. Life’s great, so let’s deliver stress a fun-time uppercut to the ballbag!