Although I never quite made it to the Bradley Manning level, I’ve been a leaker most of my life for all the wrong reasons. It’s not that I believe in truth or justice or transparency – I just want a little attention. That’s why, one night at the dinner table when I was eleven years old, I cagily revealed to my older brother that he was going to find a Matchbox Car in his birthday haul the next day, but I was not going to tell him which one in the set he was going to receive.
This, I thought, would give me supreme power over him.
Naturally, my mother was outraged that I had betrayed her confidence. I was sent to my room immediately, forced to skip desert.
At the time, I didn’t quite understand the outrage. We each had accumulated a ton of the tiny metal cars, so getting another one was not that big a deal. Which model though? That was the key (as any collector would understand), and I was keeping that significant detail to myself. He would be tormented to have to spend the night knowing there was a new vehicle in his stable and wondering which one it was, praying and hoping it would be the Jaguar XKE when I knew full well it was the Ford Galaxie Police Cruiser. Not only would he spend the night in agony, his morning would be poisoned by disappointment.
No actual harm done. What’s the problem?
But in my mother’s mind, I had spoiled her surprise, and I played Edward Snowden to her Lindsey Graham. If she’d had access to the worst gateway lounge in a Russian airport, she would have marooned me there forever, or at least until I apologized to everyone in our family minus the dog.
Which was odd, considering that a few months later the dog was the one who would eventually wind up with that Matchbox Car firmly in his mouth – an unsatisfying substitute for a bone on a dreary, nothing-happening day.
Today’s post comes from perennial sophomore Bubby Spamden, still of Wendell Wilkie High School.
Hey Mr. C,
My summer has been really awful because I still don’t have a real job and all the rain we had in the spring led to a huge crop of mosquitoes AND weeds, and since I’m not doing anything during the day anyway my mom told me I have to go clean out the garden while she’s at work.
Bummer. I’m getting chewed to bits!
I complained to my dad but he said I should take the energy I put into whining and use it to do something productive, even if I don’t get paid for it. When I said “Like What?” he surprised me by saying “Like starting a blog!”
I didn’t even know he knew what a blog was! But since he said I should do it I’m starting to think maybe he’s got a point. I mean, how hard could it be? All you do is sit down and write down the thoughts that come into your head, right? I mean, it doesn’t have to be good or planned out in any way – it’s just a blog. But if you’re an undiscovered genius (like me) then maybe a gazillion people will start to read it and comment on it, and then you’ll become a superstar and a millionaire and you’ve got it made because as a blogger you don’t have to learn anything at all, ever! You just have to spend a little time in front of a screen every day being you … which is really the only thing I’m good at, anyway.
So the more I thought about it, the more excited I got about my own blog. In fact, I got so excited I actually went to look at YOUR blog, and wow, was I surprised!
Even though it takes no effort at all to write a blog, you’ve set it up so you do less than nothing! And Mr. Boozenporn said that less than nothing is an impossible value that one day he subbed for Ms. Pye in math class. He stuck to that story until Destiny Carmichael pointed out that there are negative numbers, which is something he forgot about.
Anyway, it’s so cool that you have other people writing it for you! And based on what I picked up from reading what Anna, Jim, tim, Renee, Jacque, Steve, Joanne, Sherrilee, Barbara, Edith and Donna were saying, you didn’t pay them a thing. Which is really too bad, because they’re good writers!
How do you get away with that? Isn’t it illegal? And isn’t it wrong to have your name up there on the masthead saying “… by Dale Connelly” when it really isn’t by you at all and you don’t even tell people who the real author is until the very first line after they open the post and look at it? I’d be kind of ashamed, and you know I’m hard to embarrass! I’m thinking that makes you kind of lazy, and unethical, which is really exciting because that’s just what my dad called me when I got caught cheating on homework last year, which just proves that blogging is perfect for me! I can’t wait to get started!
Just one question. Is there a limit on the number of exclamation points you get to use? I hope not!
Your pal,
Bubby
I told Bubby there is nothing unethical about letting other people contribute posts for a blog, and there is also nothing to the popular myth that anybody can get rich and famous by writing one. Less than nothing, actually. I’m convinced the blog millionaires you read about are invented characters. Truth telling is not a very strong online value. In reality, having a blog is an obligation – like having a dog or a cat. You can get other people to take care of it every now and then, but regardless of who is doing the chores it needs attention every day. Or every other day, if it’s more like a hamster or a rat. And maybe every third day if it’s a goldfish. But if you’re less attentive than that, don’t be surprised if one day you go to write something for your blog and you find it floating upside down.
Just when you thought you had adjusted to life without Twinkies, they’re back!
And what’s more, they no longer come with the simple sugar = pleasure / fat = punishment choice you had to make in the old days. Now each Twinkies-related decision will be a statement revealing your personal theory about management, bankruptcy, and the role of organized labor in today’s economy.
Hostess went out of business after a labor dispute with the people who made the snack cakes. It was a management decision to scuttle the company rather than give in to what corporate leaders saw as unreasonable demands by an organized workforce.
This brought out harsh criticism from union-bashers. One tweeting critic decried the fact that bakery workers who had been making the Twinkies had pensions. How sweet would a lavish retirement be, knowing you got there by pushing creme filling into spongy cake for 45 years?
But never fear that buying your next Twink will cushion the twilight years of an undeserving wastrel. After going through bankruptcy, the Hostess brands were sold to a new owner, and presto! The new company has no labor union to deal with and Twinkies are already tantalizing the snack-loving shoppers at Wal-Mart.
What will come of this? The whole snack cake ethos was about happiness – thus goofy names like Ho-Ho’s and Ding Dongs. Will you now have to cross a picket line to buy a Zinger?
And union members aren’t the only ones who are bound to be sore. What about the hoarders who spent recklessly to stockpile huge backlogs in advance of the Twinkie apocalypse? Is there still a chance for their dream of using packaged desserts as currency, or have they been viciously undercut? Or will it turn out that their Strategic Snack Cake Reserves will prove to be our only source of genuine, un-tarnished Twinkies, now and forever?
I’m afraid all the potent political and economic issues swirling around the new Twinkies will make it impossible for me to eat one without getting a stomachache. Unlike the old days, when I didn’t get a stomachache until I opened the fifth package.
Today’s post comes from Wally, proprietor of Wally’s Intimida, home of the Sherpa – the SUV that’s so large, it has its own gravity.
The Car Is A Butte
This is a great day to buy a Sherpa from Wally’s Intimida! Did I say great? I meant PERFECT!
But then I say that about every day. Too bad some people just don’t get it. Most people, actually. But the day will come when you will feel sorry that you didn’t buy a Sherpa when it was possible.
This car is mammoth. It can be seen from space. Not only does the Sherpa have its own gravity – it leaves a giant footprint. Park the Sherpa outside your house and it will begin to re-shape the landscape by changing wind and weather patterns. Set the parking brake and leave it for a million years, and you’ll have a butte in your back yard – guaranteed.
But one thing the Sherpa can’t do is make the list of the Most Frequently Stolen Cars in America. That top honor goes to the Ford F-250 four-wheel-drive crew cab. The Chevrolet Silverado came in second. The top ten targets of theft were all large or Very large pickup trucks or SUVs.
Thieves don’t know they can steal it because it registers as part of the landscape. It exceeds their expectations of what a car can be, and they simply cannot imagine themselves behind the wheel of something so gigantic. They can’t understand that it even has a wheel – the car looks like foothills to the uneducated observer.
And this mind-numbing-through-size happens to miscreants who regularly steal Ford F-250s. That’s got to tell you something!
Today is the day to get your own Sherpa from Wally’s Intimida. Bring it home and leave it unlocked. The car simply is too awesome for the criminal mind to comprehend.
I’ll see You In The Showroom,
Wally
I suppose on one level, having your product become the car-most-stolen IS a sign of success, since covetousness is what automobile marketing is all about.
What item would you steal if that was the only way to get it?
Today’s post comes from perennial sophomore Bubby Spamden.
Hey Mr. C,
Wow, I just looked up from this game I’m playing with my buddy Pete and I see that the Fourth of July already happened. That’s awesome!
Things sure do happen fast when you get to be old. I remember when I was in middle school, time moved so slow – it seemed like everything took forever! Now I only feel like that whenever my dad is talking.
Like yesterday, when he decided to explain to me how scientists discovered that our solar system has a tail. And the way he said it was like it was really important news that should matter to everybody, even though whether or not anything has a tail is a totally meaningless unless you’re talking about a super-fast animal like a cheetah or something, because they can use their tails to keep their balance so they can run as fast of rockets when they’re trying to catch you and eat you for dinner and you have absolutely no chance of getting away.
I’m not so sure it would be different if they didn’t have tails, but you can always hope.
Anyway, the fact that there’s a tail on the solar system is something I didn’t really care about at all, but we cut a deal that if I watched this video from NASA and then talked about it with a friend for at least five minutes, I wouldn’t have to mow the lawn this time.
He’s always trying to get me to do stuff like that.
So I said yes and watched the video and yawned all the way through it to show him I was really Not Into It, even though the thing was pretty well done and kind of interesting.
So after watching the video I called Pete (dad made me) so I could tell him what I learned, but instead I asked him which animals are cooler, the ones with tails or the ones without. He said the ones with tails are cool because that includes Lions, tigers, kangaroos and dogs, but I said the ones without tails are better because then we’re talking about octopuses, spiders, slugs and bears.
But Pete said bears do have tails, and I said no they don’t – prove it, and then we got into this huge argument.
So my dad made me hang up and told me I had to write about it instead, which is why you’re getting this letter. So there it is. The solar system has a tail. Amazing.
And now I don’t have to mow, which is awesome. I still feel like I got away with something. Kind of like outrunning a cheetah!
Your pal,
Bubby
Which animals are cooler – those with tails or those without?
I have to admit there are days when I wonder why continue to write six blog entries a week. There have been days when I’ve thought if not for the regular attendance of a troupe of dedicated Baboons, there would be little reason to keep the thread going.
A new neurological study indicates that keeping a brain active is one way to significantly impede the progress of dementia. Published in the scientific journal Neurology, this investigation found that a group of people who read regularly and were in the habit of writing letters had fewer of the physical changes (lesions, brain plaques, tangles) that go along with dementia.
And yes, they had to wait until the people the were studying had died. Then they took out their brains and examined them. Ugh. I wonder how it effects longevity to know that when you die they’re going to cut open your skull and put your brain in a jar? For me, that would be a huge incentive to stay alive.
Maybe I could get funding to study that.
Anyway, in the articles I saw on this topic, reading and writing were the only specific brain activities mentioned that could slow the advance of dementia, although the brain is such a multi-purpose instrument I’m sure there must be other ways to keep it “active”. Doing long division, for example. Or playing the piano or learning another language. How about rebuilding carburetors or memorizing state capitals? Suppose all you do is watch TV. Even trying to understand the activities of the Kardashians has to demand some neurological wattage. I would think knowing the names of all the current reality-TV stars is a remarkable achievement in the field of memory. At least I know it’s a mental workout I wouldn’t be able to do.
I’d be OK if reading and writing were the only sure things, brain-freshening-wise. I’m fortunate that I happen to like doing both, and blogging six days a week gives me a well regulated daily dose of each of these medicinal activities. Perhaps I should claim blogging-related expenses as physical therapy to prevent the build up of various bits of clutter and debris that can disable brains.
And maybe I should charge guest bloggers a surprisingly hefty fee for partaking of this brain therapy along with me, just like a clinic or a hospital would. But I can’t – I’m too kind-hearted.
Plus, I’m planning to take a couple of weeks off and I need the help.
So if you have an idea for a guest post, please send me a note and let me know what you want to write. I’ll write back to confirm the assignment, and you’ll feel better instantly. The deadline for finished pieces is July 15th – one week from today.
Write to me at connelly.dale@gmail.com, and give your melon the workout it deserves. A post a day keeps dementia at bay!
Would you donate your dead body to science? Why or why not?
Yesterday was a national holiday and tomorrow, it’s the weekend.
The holiday was all about celebrating our independence, and the weekend is all about having unstructured time to pursue our interests. Yet today is a day when I’m supposed to work. I’m known around the office as a hopeless drudge – someone who always shows up for work and rarely complains about it. But right now I feel like I’m caught in an obligation sandwich with freedom on both sides and this stupid job commitment as the un-tasty center.
I could go to work anyway but I’m concerned that to do so would disrupt the freedom theme that was established yesterday. It might even be a betrayal of our national ideals – a crime worthy of harsh punishment. Our Uncle Sam wants us to feel as free as possible, as long as we don’t use that liberty to release sensitive information or communicate with unsavory characters overseas. Then we might find ourselves stuck in a Russian airport … forever. Which would be much worse than having to go to work.
Anyway, it’s not too late for me to change my plans. Very few people are going to be in the office, so I have some options.
Option 1: I could take the day off and call it comp time or a flat out vacation day. If I did that I’m sure I’d feel liberated and relaxed for the entire weekend.
Option 2: I could go to work but leave after a few hours to attend a “meeting” (on a golf course) and claim on my time sheet that I worked the entire day. No one will be the wiser, unless Uncle Sam is reading this letter, which I doubt, because who has time? He’s only one guy! And if I did that, I’d feel free AND clever AND devious, which is the same as normal freedom, but with an excitement boost because I’m sneaking around in order to get it.
Option 3: I could report for work as planned and stay the entire day. Very few people are going to be in the office tomorrow so I could get a lot of stuff done. And getting a lot of stuff done would help me feel a sense of freedom from all the other work obligations that have piled up over the weeks and months.
So I guess no matter which path I choose I’ll feel some sort of liberation. The question is – which one would make me happiest?
Freely, Hopeless Drudge
I told Hopeless to take a hard look inside at his motivations and values, and to be prepared to accept that the most liberating option might actually be number three. Anyone who signs a letter “Hopeless Drudge” is probably the sort of person who simply loves to work, in which case option one would be a letdown and option two would appear to be freeing but would actually create an internal prison of disappointment and guilt.
Option three, however, would be a stress-reducer and would go a long way towards reducing clutter on the desktop, which releases endorphins and brings on feelings of exuberance. For Drudges, anyway.
But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?
Today’s guest post comes from Bathtub Safety Officer Rafferty.
Greetings, Civilians!
I want to share this old photo with you – it was taken from the capsule of Apollo 8 on Christmas Eve, 1968. It is an historic image of the Earthrise, as seen from the moon.
Image: NASA
I’ve been thinking about this photo a lot.
I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that today is the Fourth of July. And I certainly don’t need to explain how I feel about exploding things! That fact that anybody, anywhere would willingly cause something to blow up violently completely concusses my safety-conscious mind!
It’s fair to say that anyone who invites me to go to Wisconsin to buy skyrockets with them, or wants me to watch while they set off a string of firecrackers, is going to get a stern lecture instead of the thrill they were seeking. I find nothing exciting about loud noises and the smell of gunpowder, except for the potential satisfaction i might get from shaming someone for putting us all in such danger.
Is it even possible to have an explosion-free Fourth of July?
I was going to say “go to a movie”, but there’s plenty of violence there. Grilling is an alternative, but some hot dogs do have a tendency to blow up. I have spent most of my adult life engaged in a public service campaign to discourage the very kind of celebration that seems to make up most of the Fourth of July. Not that I’ve had much success.
Sigh.
Why do we have to glorify the bomb? I blame it on human nature and the National Anthem.
As humans, we are enthralled by things that are loud and bright and dangerous. I know this is not a popular position, but we have to face it. The Star Spangled Banner has been misused, and its unfortunate popularity in a shortened version at sporting events has served to oversimplify the message and nullify the poetry. Yet it could be reclaimed so easily.
Here’s the part that we sing:
Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light,
What so proudly we hail’d at the twilight’s last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro’ the perilous fight,
O’er the ramparts we watch’d, were so gallantly streaming? And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thro’ the night that our flag was still there.
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
Note that the rockets and the bombs come in at the most emotional moment in the verse. No wonder we’re so explodo-centric!
What if we brought forward some of the other verses of TSSB? The song is based on a four stanza poem by Francis Scott Key – “Defence of Fort McHenry“. And yet we only sing one of the stanzas!
The others are more poetic and less violent. In particular, here’s my favorite.
On the shore dimly seen thro’ the mists of the deep,
Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses? Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,
In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream:
‘Tis the star-spangled banner: O, long may it wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
Why can’t we sing THIS stanza at a ballgame every now and then? In addition to putting great words (haughty, reposes) into the mouths of ordinary American sports fans, the key lines focus on a glorious dawn rather than bombs being hurled at the foe.
And if a simple sunrise doesn’t stir you, think of it in terms of the photo above – the sun revealing a rising Earth, with the USA front and center, if you wish.
In my safety-obsessed fantasies, we would adopt this sun-centric stanza as our standard verse for “The Star Spangled Banner” and gradually transition from having a bomb-worshiping culture to one that values a simple sunrise.
Today’s post comes from Bart, the bear who found a cell phone in the woods.
He’s not coming to visit.
H’lo. Bart here.
I saw this story about the researcher who had his messing-around-with-bears permit yanked because the higher-ups decided he was teaching us to get cozy with humans, which is not a good idea because it puts bears in danger.
I don’t know much about this case, but I can tell you for sure that some bears really don’t get it about people. I’ve heard about campgrounds where dumb bears are actually trying to get into cars. Strangers’ cars! No matter how many times you say “Don’t get into a car if you don’t know the person behind the wheel, and yet there they go, trying to peel off the doors sometimes because there’s a bag of Fritos in the back seat.
Yes, these are cars that belong to people those bears don’t know!
It used to be bears were bears and men were men but with animation and voice overs and Photoshop, sometimes even I’m fooled. There’s even a bear scented cologne. At least that’s what I think is going on at this website, but I don’t read German yet, so I’m not completely sure.
But some bears aren’t sure they’re really bears unless there are people around to take pictures of them and throw popcorn. Then there’s this one bear I read about who tried to break INTO a zoo.
Yes, there’s a lot of confusion out there about boundaries.
So everybody should know bears are wild animals. We aren’t pets and we’re not cartoon characters and we don’t think in complete sentences or talk like lummoxes or act like hairy versions of your best friends.
And I know you’re thinking that I pretty much do all those things I just mentioned. But that doesn’t mean I’m dangerously “habituated” to humans – far from it! I’ve learned to be cautious from dealing with people online, where everyone feels free to be their worst possible self. Thanks to that, I’m the most suspicious bear you’ve ever met.
And we’ve never met! Let’s keep it that way!
Your remote pal,
Bart
I agree that Bart is the wrong messenger for the Bears Aren’t People Campaign. But asking a normal bear to make the case for less bear-human interaction would be just plain scary.
Name an animal (or person) you’d like to keep at arms’ length, and why.
NASA has issued an “all hands on deck” call for assistance in finding possibly threatening asteroids and developing plans to confront them. This “Grand Challenge” acknowledges the power of crowd sourcing to solve difficult problems. If two heads working on a conundrum are better than one, two billion heads applied to the same stumper are a great marketing opportunity for your brand.
That’s coming up fast – almost as fast as a careening out-of-control asteroid bent on Earth’s destruction! So you’d better get started on your schematics. Get out a sharp pencil and a big piece of paper. All you have to do is design a system that will …
“… capture and de-spin an asteroid with the following characteristics:
a. Asteroid size: 5 m < mean diameter < 13 m; aspect ratio < 2/1
b. Asteroid mass: up to 1,000 metric tons
c. Asteroid rotation rate: up to 2 revolutions per minute about any axis or all axes.
d. Asteroid composition, internal structure, and physical integrity will likely be unknown until after rendezvous and capture.
Image: NASA/Advanced Concepts Lab
Simple, eh? Maybe so.
The beauty of crowdsourcing is that there are brains out there that will see this problem from just enough of a skewed angle to come up with an approach that no one else could think of.
The ugly of crowdsourcing is that millions of others will mimic each other with the same obvious but impractical and flat-out dumb idea.
NASA has given us a head start, releasing this image of one possible approach to creating a super-sophisticated space vehicle that could capture and transport a speeding space rock.
The idea has its roots in childhood play. It can’t be a coincidence that it looks so much like this extremely simple ball-in-cup game. Who didn’t play this as a kid? Or as an adult?
My problem with this approach is that I hated the ball-in-cup game. I found it incredibly frustrating and ultimately (because I couldn’t do it), boring.
I would never go this way with the Grand Asteroid Challenge. I’d go back to the solutions we tried on the hot, muggy, buggy nights of my youth and launch a giant sheet of super-sticky double-sided Asteroid Fly Paper. NASA could partner with 3M on this one. Building a thin but tough, mobile, super-sticky landing strip and putting it in the path of an onrushing asteroid wouldn’t be simple, but I believe it would be extremely satisfying. And the larger you make your sheet of Asteroid Fly Paper, the greater the chance you’ll get the asteroid you don’t expect – the one that wasn’t on your radar.
Once they’re trapped in the goo, we can examine freshly humbled space rocks to our heart’s content.
And no, I don’t know how we’ll get them off the paper, or even get close to them without getting stuck ourselves. That would be a DIFFERENT Grand Challenge.
How would you capture and control dangerous asteroids in space?
Trail Baboon 