Google Image Search of the Day - July 31, 2009

IN WHICH HE DECIDES THAT LOQUACIOUSNESS IS THE SOUL OF WIT AND FUCK ANYONE WHO THINKS DIFFERENTLY

Greetings! It's a bit late in the day to be composing a blog post, so I hope this one is up to par. Today was bit too busy at work for me to find the time not only to come up with a decent word to search for, but also to draft the post. We'll see if I can crank this sucker out before midnight. Almost 10:30p now, so away we go.

One thing I did manage to accomplish towards this today was the selection of the word. It's not a very specific process, as I have just been picking a word at random out of my head and going with it, but today I was stumped. Maybe it's because I was up until 1am last night downloading new music and putting it into iTunes and my iPhone. It was quite a feat dragging myself out of bed today, so my brain has been running on empty. The first word I thought of was "loquacious," but that's a pretty mundane word and I doubted I'd get much good out of it. Of course, after my treasure trove of images today, I've come to realize that just about anything is likely to reward you with hidden gems of brilliance. I think this is what I love most about this new method of forcing myself to write. It's vaguely structured randomness. My brain has never functioned in a way that if I was approached and told, "Tell me a story," I would be able to spin an amusing tale out of my memory. This is probably why when I meet new people, especially groups, I tend to sit in the background and observe for a while, until something that is said inspires me to say something intelligent--or at least funny, I hope. If I could do this on cue, it would be much easier for me to write. Instead, I confine almost all of my writing for the year to NaNoWriMo and Twitter. NaNoWriMo allows me to just spout off the most ridiculous shit I can come up with, paying almost zero attention to plot or organization. Twitter, of course, lets me talk about food almost 24/7, which anyone who knows me would agree is almost all I think about. (PS- I know that's not proper grammar, but who really says it the right way without sounding like an idiot.) Anyway, so I definitely said no to "loquacious."

My aforementioned slow brain function made me actually perform a google search for "Words that begin with _," which is, let's face it, hella lazy. I figured I would lose all of my street cred if I did that, and since I don't really have any street cred to speak of, that would probably be a bad thing. Then it came to me, like a whisper from a glittering angel sent by God to inspire me, like a string of melody from the lute of a Muse--"rapacious" was the word I would use. "Rapacious" would provide me with enough material to write seven blog posts! Maybe not the most SFW word of the day, but it sure beats "propone." (I'm looking at you, Oxford English Dictionary Word of the Day. Who the fuck uses "propone" anymore? Jesus. You're so behind the times.)

And so, word chosen, we move ever forward towards our destiny. (I wonder who would be in my karass...)

Ra-pa-cious
1: excessively grasping or covetous
2: living on prey
3: ravenous (a rapacious appetite)


DESPITE THERE BEING NEITHER BEGINNINGS NOR ENDINGS TO THE TURNING OF THE WHEEL OF TIME, HE BEGINS WHERE ONE OUGHT

Sometimes, you just have to give the right answer. It may not be witty, it may not be thought-provoking, but when tasked with finding rapacious photos...sometimes you must call a spade a spade.

Wow, how fucking original.Some dudes dragging a satyr who's about to do some nude chick. Like this isn't something we've all seen a million times before. I do rather enjoy how Man A on the left is gnawing on the ankle of the satyr. He's all, "Not only do I want to stop you from getting some nookie from this totally willing and not at all frightened woman here, I would also like a bit of goat foot. Nom nom nom." Also, why is a real goat with a satyr? Isn't that weird or something? Like, I am a goat person, why would I want to hang with you, you stupid normal goat. You can't talk, you can't rape, what good ARE you? Ridiculous. I'd also like to take this moment to point out that, while Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson series seems to stay relatively close to actual mythology (minus, you know, poetic license to have the gods kicking around Long Island and Manhattan...), Percy's BFF is definitely a satyr. Riordan cleverly leaves out the fact that satyrs almost always have GIANT RAGING BONERS and are drunk all the time. Also, they rape women. I mean, there's this whole bit where the satyrs romp through the woods chasing wood nymphs, but it's all in good fun in the books. There's no sexy times happening. Maybe that's for the best, since the books are targeted at like...12 year olds and not dudes in their mid-20s. But still! Satyrs are not all fun loving hippies like Riordan would have you believe, they are rapacious! If you see one coming, you best get out your mace and lock up your chastity belt. Just some friendly advice.

CONSEQUENTLY, HE SEEKS REFUGE IN FORT WALTON

"Oh noes!" says the baby. Now if there is one thing I hate worse than babies (I'm a nice guy, really!), it's close-up photos of babies. UGH. Why is he making that stupid monkey face? And why are his eyes photoshopped that color? And why so indignant, baby? Is Walmart not good enough for you?? SO SRY! SRY WE'RE NOT MADE OF FUCKING CASH! I'll give him something to be indignant about! I am really not seeing the connection to rapaciousness here, and I'm looking, really I am. Maybe the baby is a great defender of small businesses? Maybe soon he will be used in really creepy ad campaigns where they digitally make the babies mouth move and use adult male voice over. Just imagine Samuel L Jackson shouting "You bought my medicine from Walmart, muthafucka!?" Actually, that might not be so bad. But seriously, this probably came from some parents' blog written from the perspective of their squealing infant, projecting some personality that it probably doesn't have. I mean, just think if my parents had written a blog from "my" perspective as a baby. It would have probably prayed a lot and talked about seeing the face of God in clouds and puppies. Which, when you think about it, is pretty gay...but probably not what they would have been going for. Look at this, it's already 11:30p and I have only used 2 of my photos, this is going to take all night. If only I could get hooked into machine.


FROM THE ASHES OF A FAILED POST COMES A NEW RECURRING FEATURE

What do you say we continue with one of the images from yesterday and make a point of always posting at least one image of an ape in a suit. I mean, I'm unclear just how many of these can possibly be floating around the internet, but considering there's probably a fetish for that, I would not be surprised if I never ran out of material. Thus, it is with great pleasure I bring you the rapacious version of the classily dressed ape:

I really wish I could sit down and have dinner with whoever created this and ask them the pertinent question: "How much?" It would go so well with my decor! I mean, I know the only art I have in my room is a couple Buddhas, a painting of a Buddha and a cardboard cutout of Edward Cullen from The Twilight Saga, but certainly I could make room for what looks like a genteel ape from the 1800s. He looks like he could have been a preacher. Maybe he was? I mean, it definitely does not look at all photoshopped. But really, why? I hope this was a character portrait for some Planet of the Apes role play. I can forgive a lot in the name of role playing. I used to smoke cloves Freshman year of college with this girl Phoebe who did Vampire: The Masquerade roleplay with a group of goth kids at BU. That shit has fiberglass in it! Granted, at the time I didn't know there was a difference between inhaling and just sucking smoke into your mouth and spitting it back out. Not that this is really something one needs to know or even should know since smoking is pretty foul and all. Point is, I definitely thought I was wicked cool smoking black fiberglass-filled cigarettes that tasted sweet like CANDY, and I definitely wished I had the balls to attend a vampire roleplaying group, because how awesome does that sound? Super awesome.


DURING WHICH TIME HE INSPIRES NIGHTMARES IN HIS GENTLE READERS, NIGHTMARES OF SEXY TIMES GONE HORRIBLY, HORRIBLY WRONG

I want you to imagine something for me. Can you do that? Imagine what you'd see if you were looking at the thing that makes you feel so dirty inside, you're not sure any amount of scrubbing would ever make you clean again. The thing that is so terrible that you wish there was another word, like terribad, that you could use to describe it. The physical manifestation of The Beast, whose eyes are busy tattooing 666 over all that is good within you. Now imagine that thing is probably a porn actor. And go!

OH GOD MY EYES! I thought for a brief moment that I would not subject you people to this, but then I recalled that whichever god is in charge of the internet (probably Hades, if he liked kittens) made ME see it when I searched for rapacious, so it's only fair that I payed it forward. Now what does he have to do with the word of the day? Beyond how he raped my soul and shat (with his EYES) in the holes, I honestly don't know. Why does this exist? A billion cute kittens could not make up for the horror that is this. That milky water, that abyssal gaze, the slicked back (and is that silvered??) hair, the terrible wetness. I am at a loss for words. I'm pretty sure this is the Blair Witch.


IN WHICH A MISSED DEADLINE LEADS TO THE POSSIBLE DISCOVERY OF A MISSING LINK

Midnight has gone and gone, my friends, but we carry on. Not because we have nothing better to do on a Friday night. It's not because the upstairs neighbors are throwing a party and I wasn't invited, so I'm writing a blog rather than sit and cry. It's definitely not that I'm crying into my diet coke from the rejection of it all. Srsly. You know what will make us all feel better?

If I were a religious man, if I had even a shred of belief in God left in me, I would swear that this was the greatest proof possible that He existed and was watching us from up Above in His Magic Throne made of clouds and angel wings. In fact, I intend to meditate upon this photo in the coming weeks, months and years of my life, because certainly if there is some deeper truth in this life we all stumble through, it is to be found within the vacant stare of this "rapacious foot biscuit," which I think is possibly the greatest trio of English words ever dreamed up. ("I love you" can go suck a chode.) (It also occurred to me that I did not have this blog set as 'adult,' which is clearly a massive oversight on my part. I apologize if any small children made their way here by accident.) I'm pretty sure I want this on a t-shirt. Alas, that image is small and Zazzle tells me it might be really fuzzy and pixelated. If anyone can figure out how to make a T-shirt with that image on it, I would be forever grateful. The world of indie ironic tees would just explode. <3 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh14xy3dahyphenhyphengLIjlB5q_0EmE2nJjZ2kSgC4BcnVKH9VCGaYazb5Oy8VJc-Hf_nV0mMK3XsndIN_bAJyl_DKRkpJ0M-Q10jSJQEUoEhzWNuzDi8WrN2i8x-rmDc4sXf8JDsczQQmrc-k6E8/s1600-h/stanleydonwoodgoat_0.jpg">I guess it's a very goat-like day in Blogger today, but obviously this is a pretty standout picture. Not really because it looks like he is about to murder you, but because it reminded me of when I wanted to be an artist. I was probably 10 at the time, living in Tennessee and in the early grips of my video game obsession. Either me or my brother had borrowed this game called "The 7th Saga," the premise of which was basically to play as one of 7 assorted dudes and collect these 7 magic runes to, uh, save the world or something. It was on NES, so followed the 8-bit RPG plot cliche. Basically, it was totally random because the seven characters included a robot, an alien, a demon and a dwarf (not a midget, we're talking your run of the mill fantasy dwarf here). Anyway, I kind of had a thing with the demon character, because he looked sort of like a cow in a robe. Not a sexual thing, just to be clear. Not only was I a bit too young to have sexual things, but I just had a big fixation on cows and thought they were the shit. So I would fill up scraps of paper with these really terribly drawn cows in robes. At the time, I was really jazzed when I could sort of make a reasonable looking figure that was comprised of fleshier stuff than sticks (pretty much the pinnacle of my artistic skill to date). It was supposed to look like this:











SENSELESS RAGE AND A MOMENT OF ZEN EMBRACE LIKE BROTHERS AND BRING CLOSURE...FOR NOW

When you think for a moment about the word "rapacious" and what it could be describing, there is one noun that comes to mind time and again--pigfucker. At least, that's the bit of text that accompanied one of my photos tonight. And to that author, I tip my hat. Rapacious pigfuckers is indeed a gorgeous turn of phrase.

Uh oh! Vault Boy looks pissed. Some rapacious pigfucker just unleashed a nuclear blast that shook the Wasteland to its core and Vault Boy and his pistol are ready for some action. This is the beauty of the Fallout series, creating hardened criminals of small children. Now explain to me why it is that all the computer classes at my disposal at work are like "Excel, Master Class" and "Word; Or, How To Print." If we had a "Photoshopping Bombs and Guns For Fun and Profit" class, I would be there with bells on. If only photoshop weren't so expensive, I could get it and teach myself to use it while creating all sorts of genius images for use on this blog. Regardless, it's time to calm down and begin the slow descent into sleep. To do that, we'll combine two of my favorite things: food and Zen! Enjoy, kids.


Maybe eventually I will blog about what is actually happening in my life, but we'll see about that. Tomorrow is my first tattoo, and we all know what that means--I can't convert to Judaism. Damn, foiled again!

Google Image Search of the Day - July 30, 2009

IN WHICH HE FINDS HIMSELF READING TWO BOOKS AT THE SAME TIME

Today's installment is sponsored by Cat's Cradle. After purchasing the Kindle 2 a few months back for the express purpose of sparing my back from carting around Anathem, I installed the Kindle for iPhone app. It's kind of like the retarded cousin of the Kindle, so I almost never used it, generally preferring to shrug off my bag and extract the Kindle which, while portable, is not really a one-handed device. On a related note, I used to read/write tweets when I went to the bathroom [why am I telling you this?], and then I was like, "Dude, you could totally slide the Kindle in your pants and read part of a chapter!" But that was cumbersome and a little weird, even for me. The iPhone fits right in your pocket! And it has a Kindle app! So much easier, he thought to himself. Thus, I began reading Vonnegut while my Kindle is preoccupied with a children's series about demigods.

INDEED!

En route to the office this morning, I'm holding my iced mocha in one hand, iPhone in the other, and I'm reading Cat's Cradle. He used the genius phrase "irrelevant tomfoolery" to describe some changing traffic lights. Tomfoolery, indeed, says I! When was the last time you heard "tomfoolery" used? I guarantee it was not recently enough. So it is with a happy heart that I have chosen "tomfoolery" as the word of the day. And what a word! Google Image Search threw limitless options at me for use in today's post. So many that I thought perhaps I should break this into two. Let us sally forth.

tom·fool·ery

Pronunciation:

\ˌtäm-ˈfül-rē, -ˈfü-lə-\

Function:

noun

Date:

1812

: playful or foolish behavior

WHENCE COMES THE ELIXIR OF LIFE? FROM BOSOMS.

I find it all too appropriate to begin with breasts. After all, we seekers of enlightenment suckle from the Teat of Wisdom, the Teat from which the milky substance of dreams issues. Some men take their breasts far too seriously, but I always say, "If thou can't approach them from a place of tomfoolery, thou shan't approach them atall!" I wonder what jungle fruits that man used to build his lopsided bosoms...likely guava. This would be a great idea for a running photo gag. Travel the world and take pictures of yourself in front of various locales with fake titties stuffed in your shirt. Food for thought!

THE UNIVERSE IS CALLED INTO QUESTION WHEN IT IS REVEALED THAT DUMBLEDORE IS GAY[!?!]

Sometimes, it feels like the Wiccans are right and there's magic in this here world we all inhabit. Take a look at the sky right now (if you live in Boston/Cambridge), for instance. That's some freaky night during the day Benjamin Buttons shit right there and I think I like it. When you think magic, a whole slew of images and characters come to mind from the stories we have heard all our lives. Wicked witches, glittering faeries, voodoo priests, venerable wizards. But does one think of tomfoolery? One might!

This dude has got it going on. The 'More You Know' rainbow is spurting out of his floppy wizard hat, faeries are shooting stars at each other and some green butterfly is chillaxing by his ear. His facial hair is a bit wispy, though...I definitely don't like seeing his lips underneath that moustache. I suspect it's simply poor digital art skillz, but maybe they meant for him to be a sketchball. Also, his green eyes seem to be crying, "Help! These fucking faeries are buzzing around my head like infernal fruit flies! I can't take the stress anymore and may pretty soon use a fireball spell to blow myself apart, hopefully taking some of these goddamn faeries with me. I am dead inside." On the other hand, I could be projecting. But come on, he totally looks lifeless and frazzled. I like to think this is how Dumbledore spent his spare time when he wasn't tutoring Harry Potter or getting killed by Snape. In a word: Gay Tomfoolery. [Ok, two words.]

IN WHICH THE MAGICAL TOMFOOLERY CONTINUES WITH

...WTF?! I'm not quite sure what this is supposed to be. It appears to have a Dali-stache, a pirate eyepatch, hooked goblin nose and a powdered wig like judges and members of Parliament wore. It's not easy being green, so can you blame the big-headed lug for getting drunk with graduating college girls? I'm pretty jealous of that eyepatch though. This one time, I woke up with my right eye totally swollen shut and I thought for a minute I was dying or that I'd gotten a bit of lumber stuck in my eye while I slept, so I called out of work and went to Student Health Services. I waited around in the room while girls came and got pregnancy and genital wart tests, like you do, and finally the doc saw me and prescribed me an $80 bottle of glorified saline with which to wash my eyes. "No thanks, doc," says I, "I just want an eyepatch!" He looked at me like I was high (which I most certainly was not!) and said, "You didn't get anything in your eye, it's just allergies." I took a deep breath, got real close so he could smell the cabbage on my breath [ed. note - not true], and yelped, "EYEPATCH!" This gave him quite a start and he adjusted his glasses with one hand while holding his heart with the other. Usually he just had people cry when he broke the news to them that forevermore they would have herpes outbreaks because of that trick they brought home from the clubz. He wasn't used to demands for eyepatches. Did the clinic even carry them? Couldn't this strange boy just go to a costume store and purchase his own damn eyepatch? Why was he getting his cabbage-y breath all up in my grill like that? This mental litany of question took place in the same length of time it took me to blink my engorged eyelid. On the edge of my seat I perched, waiting, hoping that an eyepatch my way came. Alas! Tomfoolery was afoot and I never got that eyepatch. Still it burns me. I'm a man of good health, no chronic problems and rarely get sick. The ONE TIME I have a swollen eye and I don't even get to pretend to be a pirate for a day. What kind of fucking joke was this? I'll probably carry my rage to the grave, perhaps beyond, if there were such a thing. So I say to this goblin, drink on.

HIS RAGE DRIVES HIM CLOSE TO THE EDGE AND HE STARES INTO THE ABYSS OF SPACE. THE FUTURE STARES BACK.

And you thought those apes at the beginning of 2001: A Space Odyssey were intense. Look at this dude! Sunken eyes: check. Big hairy ears: check. Long, downturned mouth: check. Business suit: check. Fucking pistol: double check. I wonder what's going through his head in this picture. He is clearly all, "Don't mess with me, fool," which is a stance I can appreciate, as it's one I give often myself. Just yesterday, I was browsing photos of people I don't know on Facebook because they came up on my sidebar (you all do this, so don't give me that look) and some peeps had pictures with monkeys and I was all, "How cool! I'd love to have a pet monkey!" I would train him to be just like Abu in Aladdin, a kleptomaniacal monkey who rides on my shoulder and wears a fez. But I'm starting to think my creativity didn't go far enough. Dream big, Jon! I could be the proud companion of a homicidal gun-toting ape! We could star in a buddy-cop film together. People would laugh and say, "He's not a person! He's an ape! HAHAHA! You two are a disgrace to the force!" But ah, Abu and I would get the last laugh. We'd take down the mob, the Russians, we take down all of them. And I'd pin that medal of honor to Abu's chest and we'd embrace, brothers in blood, the blood of those criminals we slew in the name of justice. For Aiur! Then we'd go blow up a creationist museum or something. Think of all the tomfoolery we could get up to! All I want is to turn that frown upside down, Abu.

AND THE PRIZE FOR WTF-IEST GOES TO...

...this dude. Where to begin? I guess his jaunty pose is supposed to be the source of the tomfoolery, but I find this to be a loose interpretation of the word. Also, this makes me feel uncomfortable. Anyone else? Is that just me? Why does he have knobby knees and elbows? Why are his toes and fingers different shapes and sizes? Is he a genetic abnormality? Is this trying to say that even freaks can be tomfools? Is tomfool a word? It should be if it isn't. Holy crap, it is! I'm definitely going to describe myself/other people as a tomfool from now on. Also, why is this monkey's tail shaped like a stinger? What's with monkeys and tomfoolery!? This hasn't even touched on the dude's hair. If I could grow facial hair in that manner, I would, yessir, I would indeed. And the sidepart! And the lighter colored eyebrows! There's something disturbing about this image, almost more disturbing than that creepy eyeless wonder from yesterday. To be quite frank, this is not a monkey with whom I would want to film a buddy-cop movie. TOMFOOL!

IN WHICH THE ALREADY MEANDERING POST FURTHER DISINTEGRATES INTO ITS COMPONENT PARTS--NAMELY, POO AND BUTTSEX JOKES

You knew it was coming. There's no avoiding that the height of tomfoolery is certainly an elephant trunking [neologism FTW!] another elephant. Maybe the one on the right (henceforth Rosa) did not chew her peanuts properly. Ezekiel over there smelled an opportunity and went for it: free nuts where you would least expect to find them. [ed. note -- we apologize for the bad jokes, sometimes we find that there's very little we can do to control him] I say, this seems like tomfoolery for Ezekiel, but I suspect Rosa's of a different mind. You never know, elephants might be freakier than we give them credit for. Or maybe not. No really, to be honest, Ezekiel is totally felching Rosa*. And Rosa seems to be taking one for the team. Well done, Rosa. That inexplicable image is an album cover for some band called Tom Foolery and the Mistakes (I think). Weird. I'm not really ok with this. I call shenanigans.

*credit to Jason for pointing out what is clearly happening in this picture. I was just thinking he was eating peanuts out of her butt.

MERE ANARCHY IS LOOSED UPON THE WORLD

And so our sad and sordid tale comes to a close, as tales tend to do. It may not always be the end of all things or the Second Coming--sometimes an enigmatic image is enough. A couple of pheasants [?!] walking along. Is it tomfoolery or is it a statement on the futile pecking we attempt on our scrambling climb to the top? Remember, only by dancing through life on the wings of tomfoolery can you keep the crushing emptiness at bay. Return tomorrow for another word, another dollar.

Google Image Search of the Day - July 29, 2009

WHEREIN THE STAGE IS SET AND THE REFINED FRENCH WHORES REPOSE

Greetings, children. Welcome to today's installment of "Google Image Search of the Day." I'm uncertain whether I should include the word in the title or not...maybe it doesn't actually matter. Originally, the intended word was "ribald," [is that right? comma before the quotation mark?] because I was thinking of a word that started with 'ri' and then I thought 'riffin' so I went to Merriam-Webster and searched for 'riffin' and then I saw 'raffine'. Raffine, of course, means "refined: sophisticated," which would have been a fine word, but it's French and you know how uppity Americans get about the French. (I love 'em, though. So much butter and fat and deliciousness.) So then I thought, "Hey, Jon. The French are slutty, right? There were whorehouses in Moulin Rouge, so they must be pretty RIBALD!" For a brief moment in time, "ribald" was the word of the day, but a quick Google Image Search of "ribald" turned up a lot of pendulous bosoms. This wouldn't usually be a problem, given that the subtitle of my blog is pretty ribald itself, but I'm at work damnit. Scribbling this off between emails is bad enough without having pictures of pinups on my computer screen.

After discarding "ribald" as a possibility, I naturally decided to settle upon "quiescent."

1 : marked by inactivity or repose : tranquilly at rest

2 : causing no trouble or symptoms <quiescent gallstones>

Besides the fact that the example phrase is "quiescent GALLSTONES," [WTF, Jeeves?] it seemed like a pretty innocuous word, one that skips through quiescent meadows hand in paw with bunnies riding on the backs of majestic unicorns. I actually got a bit excited to see what sort of images I might find. After all, how bad could it be?

CONSEQUENTLY, HE DISCOVERS HITHERTO UNPLUMBED DEPTHS OF WRONGNESS WITHIN THE INTERWEBS

Rather than delving directly into the mouth of madness, I shall begin with an image I'll ask you to meditate on for a few moments before continuing.

Drink in the peaceful stillness of the water, the sunlight shining through the trees. Sometimes in our bustling, empty lives of corporate greed, we need to slough off our doldrums and sip from a steaming mug of quiescence. Hold fast to your sanity.

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?! I suddenly feel anything but peaceful and reposed, unless by reposed, you mean dead from murder by whatever the hell that thing is. Now I'm a pretty open-minded guy, or so I like to think, and if we were friends and you were like, "Hey, dude, I'm an artist and I'd love to show you my stuff," I would totally listen and give constructive feedback wherever possible. If, on the other hand, you showed me this, I might seriously have to consider ending our friendship ASAP. This lovely image comes to us courtesy of The Raster Group, whatever that is. The artist who submitted this also had two other images close by, one of which was titled "Happy Time" and was definitely a demon clown inside an insane asylum. I kind of want to shake Kaos' (the artist) hand. Well done, you sketched me the hell out. His/her pictures seem like the natural progression of this artist who hung his stuff at Ula Cafe for a while. They were photographs from inside abandoned Massachusetts Mental Hospitals and they were creeeeeepy. I think if the two of them got together and maybe tried making another Silent Hill Movie, they could be in business.

That's a sweet mask, bra. So I get it. Kid was wearing a crazy monkey mask, probably ran around creeping his parents out with some loud screeching and ooh-ooh-ahh-ahh noises, maybe even broke a vase or two. Mom yells, "Zachary Isaiah Plimpton! Cut that out right now. Time out in the chair, and take that damn mask off before your father sees it!" Zachary slinks over to the wall, subdued from being shouted at. He mutters, "ZIP it, woman!" and chuckles at his little joke. He leaves the mask on because he feels there is something shameful about sitting on black leather completely naked. If he can't be Simba, he'll at least be Rafiki.

Or maybe this is just an advertisement for Saw VIII. Creepy.

IN WHICH ANIME RESTORES THE DELICATE VEIL BETWEEN INSANITY AND GENIUS

And what post about "quiescence" would be complete without an anime inspired drawing! Don't ask how those two thoughts are remotely connected. Just accept it.

I don't even know who that is supposed to be, but she's wearing a schoolgirl uniform and asking me to grab her hand (with feeling)! I suppose her half-lidded eyes are supposed to be where "quiescence" comes from, but I'm starting to feel like the word is mostly used by emo kids for their art projects. There's nothing wrong with that, though. All words have their place.

And so it goes, and so it goes, our lesson has concluded, gentle readers. I trust you will return, and not sporadically.

Our Hero Receives A Calling

IN WHICH I PONDER THE MEANING OF LIFE

There's something magical about this world in which we live. It's not the smiling, yet filthy face of a child. It's not a shout in the street. It's most certainly not anything involving pregnancy.

No, friends, what I'm talking about is puppetry. I suppose on some level, I've always known puppetry existed, but in things like The Sound of Music or a little kid's basement. Or Sesame Street. Wholesome things, like The Dark Crystal. Ok, so maybe that's not wholesome, but you get my drift. Never did I think some genius would use puppets to enact fake scenes from Harry Potter, let alone that greatest of all Pop Culture monstrosities: The Twilight Saga.

First, let us observe the insanity that is over 65 million hits on YouTube.

HARRY POTTER PUPPET PALS



I've come to accept my place in the world as an observer and sometime chronicler of all things awesome. Once in a while, I think of a witty phrase in the spur of the moment and touch the smallest edge of that Hylaean Theoric World, but whoever created that surely put at least a whole foot inside. I mean, finger puppets and tomfoolery? How can one go wrong?



OH HOW WRONG ONE CAN GO

Though come to think of it, the acting by these stiff puppets was actually far superior to anything in the film. I hope someone does a puppet version of the fourth book and has a bloody puppet get chewed out of a pregnant puppet's stomach, because that is both what happens in the book and HOT. Hot, indeed.



Someday, I hope to have a sliver of the talent of these fine folks. I would like to say I'd use that power for good, rather than to make poo jokes with Harry Potter or used decapitated deer head puppets, but I'm certain that IS good. If anything, I'd tell the tale of Vivi the midget magician and his many accomplishments. Actually, I do have a large number of stuffed creatures on or around my bed (how is this possible at 25, you ask? WHO FUCKING KNOWS, just go with it, aight?), and a plethora of objects that could be used as ridiculous props. Does anyone want to create a video with me? I'm sure we could find a way to tie all of these things into a cohesive storyline!

IT WILL BE BETTER THAN THIS, AS THIS SOUNDS (AND LOOKS) LIKE RETARDED MONKEYS

Google Image Search of the Day - July 28, 2009

Today's Google Image Search is "excoriate". I'm going to try and Google one word/phrase a day and see what ridiculous stuff comes up, just for the hell of it.

On with the show:

First we have what looks like a demonic rug of some sort. As far as I can tell, the only connection to the word I was looking for are, I guess, its teeth. If it hadn't been taxidermied, I suppose it might be trying to excoriate its dinner. Dericious.

Photo 2, we have Bill O'Reilly on the body of a T-Rex. Um. There really are no words for this. One could wish Fox would excoriate BillO, but that'll never happen. T-Rexes are the Kings of the Jungle or something.

Inexplicably, Canadian Geese. I used to go to this time share my family has down in Williamsburg, VA (first Capitol of Virginia!) every summer in July. It was, cheekily enough, called Powhatan Plantation. Now there's something really American about taking an old plantation, naming it after the tribe of which Pocahontas was a member (aww!) and turning it into a pretty poor vacation destination. I even had a truly terrible buffalo steak in the old slave quarters. Charming! It was after that steak that I decided buffalo were my favorite of all the creatures native to America, and I refused to eat it...instead collecting stuffed animal buffalo, which I named Buffy Buffalo and Buffy Buffalo. (The difference is in the pronunciation. And hell, this was long before Buffy was staking vampires on our TV screens. That's me, ahead of the times.) So I vacationed as a "privileged" white dude on a planation, wtf, and my point is...there were a lot of geese. Like a lot, a lot. Hundreds would roam the streets like hungry packs of wolves. If small children wandered from their carriages or stuck their grubby little baby hands outside of moving cars, geese would flock towards them, razor sharp* jaws snapping furiously, anxious for just a little taste of baby flesh. (And can you blame them? So tender.) These huge groups of Canadian Geese were flecked with one or two Giant White Swans. I always felt like the swans were the leaders, and directed them towards their target. The goose propaganda machine would have you believe they eat grass and rice and other veggie shit. NOT TRUE. They eat people, damnit. This one swan freaking charged me when I was 8 and bit my finger like he was a doggie with a bone. For all I know, he was some sick dog that got reincarnated as a goose. Whoever's in charge of reincarnation has a weird sense of humor, you know? So these big swans ruled over the canadian geese, which begged 2 questions. 1) Why the hell are they called Canadian Geese when they are in Virginia? Not ok. I mean, this is America, damnit. Take your "french" fries back to Montreal, bitches. 2) How do bloodthirsty creatures like swans keep their feathers so white? Do they excrete bleach? Do they, perhaps, EXCORIATE each other? *NUDGE*? Whatever, I say. Scary creatures.

My final thought is, why are the three pictures I chose from google image search all animals. (Yes, Virginia, I'm counting a chimerical T-Rex as an animal.) What if that dinosaur is the missing link, y'all? What if Canadian Geese are being genetically engineered to start the bird flu in Virginia? Brace yourselves.

*I don't know if their jaws are really razor sharp. I suspect not, but just go with it. It makes imagining severed baby limbs that much easier. I mean...wtf?