Recently in the Amusing Category

The cuteness of a tribble, the temper of a mugatu, and the ham of a Shatner.ShortKirk.png

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A masterful spoof of one of my favorite literary works, skewering a reference book I spent a lot of time with in my formative years..
'Tis hard to say, which promises more Loot:
Writing, or Telling others how to do't. -- Geoff Nunberg
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The grammar offered an irresistible linguistic challenge. Klingon is difficult but not impossible, weird yet totally believable. Anyone can put on a pair of pointed ears or memorize some lines of dialogue, but learning to speak Klingon requires genuine hard work.

Most languages created for fictional worlds involve simple vocabulary substitutions, such as moodge for man in A Clockwork Orange, or meaningless streams of noise, like the high-pitched jabbering of the Ewoks in Return of the Jedi. Klingon is something altogether different. There is a logic behind it; a linguist doing field research among Klingon speakers would be able to work out the system and describe it as he would an exotic indigenous tongue. -- Arika Okrent, Slate
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Best. Comment. Ever.

        while([fh offsetInFile]+12<=imageoffs)
        {
                uint32 sign=[fh readUInt32BE];
                uint32 marker=[fh readUInt32BE];
                uint32 chunklen=[fh readUInt32BE];
                off_t nextchunk=[fh offsetInFile]+((chunklen+3)&~3);
                // At this point, I'd like to take a moment to speak to you about the Adobe PSD format.
                // PSD is not a good format. PSD is not even a bad format. Calling it such would be an
                // insult to other bad formats, such as PCX or JPEG. No, PSD is an abysmal format. Having
                // worked on this code for several weeks now, my hate for PSD has grown to a raging fire
                // that burns with the fierce passion of a million suns.
                // If there are two different ways of doing something, PSD will do both, in different
                // places. It will then make up three more ways no sane human would think of, and do those
                // too. PSD makes inconsistency an art form. Why, for instance, did it suddenly decide
                // that *these* particular chunks should be aligned to four bytes, and that this alignement
                // should *not* be included in the size? Other chunks in other places are either unaligned,
                // or aligned with the alignment included in the size. Here, though, it is not included.
                // Either one of these three behaviours would be fine. A sane format would pick one. PSD,
                // of course, uses all three, and more.
                // Trying to get data out of a PSD file is like trying to find something in the attic of
                // your eccentric old uncle who died in a freak freshwater shark attack on his 58th
                // birthday. That last detail may not be important for the purposes of the simile, but
                // at this point I am spending a lot of time imagining amusing fates for the people
                // responsible for this Rube Goldberg of a file format.
                // Earlier, I tried to get a hold of the latest specs for the PSD file format. To do this,
                // I had to apply to them for permission to apply to them to have them consider sending
                // me this sacred tome. This would have involved faxing them a copy of some document or
                // other, probably signed in blood. I can only imagine that they make this process so
                // difficult because they are intensely ashamed of having created this abomination. I
                // was naturally not gullible enough to go through with this procedure, but if I had done
                // so, I would have printed out every single page of the spec, and set them all on fire.
                // Were it within my power, I would gather every single copy of those specs, and launch
                // them on a spaceship directly into the sun.
                //
                // PSD is not my favourite file format.

                if(sign!='8BIM') break; // sanity check


Thanks, Josh, for the link.
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Via this Time Magazine article, "How Not to be Hated on Facebook."
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I never actually had to teach my son to read. He went smoothly from being read to, to reading along, to reading on his own.  The transition for my daughter has been a little rougher, so in the last year or so, whenever Carolyn showed an interest in reading, I've praised her for her accomplishment.

Last weekend we were driving to Denny's for a family treat when she read some random sign, and we habitually praised her.

She got a skeptical look on her face. "Everybody's treating me like a queen. All I did was read a word. I'm seven."
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My former student Mike Rubino sent me this link to a wonderfully awful new media course description. String me up by my USB dongles if I ever teach a course like this.
As print takes its place alongside smoke signals, cuneiform, and hollering, there has emerged a new literary age, one in which writers no longer need to feel encumbered by the paper cuts, reading, and excessive use of words traditionally associated with the writing trade. Writing for Nonreaders in the Postprint Era focuses on the creation of short-form prose that is not intended to be reproduced on pulp fibers.

Instant messaging. Twittering. Facebook updates. These 21st-century literary genres are defining a new "Lost Generation" of minimalists who would much rather watch Lost on their iPhones than toil over long-winded articles and short stories. Students will acquire the tools needed to make their tweets glimmer with a complete lack of forethought, their Facebook updates ring with self-importance, and their blog entries shimmer with literary pithiness. All without the restraints of writing in complete sentences. w00t! w00t! Throughout the course, a further paring down of the Hemingway/Stein school of minimalism will be emphasized, limiting the superfluous use of nouns, verbs, adverbs, adjectives, conjunctions, gerunds, and other literary pitfalls.-- McSweeney's
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We Didn't Start the Flame War. (Don't listen to this one with urchins underfoot.)

College Humor does not pull its punches when it satirizes (and celebrates) the depths to which human nature can stoop when participating in discussion threads.

(My favorite bit is the Rick Astley impersonator, a reference to an internet meme of the recent past.)

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Spill-chuck rares it's ulgy heed.
The caption described a photograph illustrating the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints' General Conference, and it referred to the group's "Quorum of Twelve Apostates" rather than "Apostles." -- Chronicle of Higher Education
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My wife can't stand computers, but she's more than an honorary geek because she knows her classic sci-fi. She pegged this scene instantly.

3272700696_c40a07178d


In this re-creation from "The Cage," green-skinned Orion slave girl Vena dances for Captain Pike. Why does Elchesen put in the hours necessary to create such images? "The time involved depends on if I feel like working on my latest creation or not," Elchesen said. "As for the effort, when someone sees it, I want that person to see something that is one of a kind -- never done before."  -- Wired
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People. This is serious. Is nothing sacred?

Matt will play the character of Mondain Minax, a cyber-space explorer and weirding weapons expert who lives more in VR than RL. Minax is a member of the crew of the alien Sontarans space vessel Zero Wing (veQDuj'oH Dujllj'e') which acts as a foil to the Stargate Universe crew during episodes 3, 7, & 11.-- Kairos News
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Remediation of a classic? A satire on visual cruft? http://www.tomas-nilsson.se/


SlagsmÄlsklubben - Sponsored by destiny from Tomas Nilsson on Vimeo.
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Many married women choose to hyphenate their married name and maiden name. But there are times when you just shouldn't!! (Mature Content) CBS 13
I laughed so hard my six-year-old daughter rushed downstairs to ask why I was crying.
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I smell trouble. Via Trekmovie.com:
Genki's "Red Shirt" cologne (whose tag line "Because Tomorrow May Never Come" is priceless) celebrates the sacrifices of those often nameless crew of the USS Enterprise. Described appropriately as a cologne for those with a "devotion to living each day as it could be your last" the cologne has top notes of green mandarin, bergamot, and lavender, with base notes of leather and grey musk.


Live every day as if it could be your last, with 'Red Shirt' cologne

Also available: Tiberius, and Pon Farr.

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"Playing video games all day, alone and friendless, is is simply the best way that we have to prepare our children for a life of solitude in a barren wasteland."



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20 Feb 2009

The Pac-Man Dossier

Nerd heaven.

In chase mode, Pinky behaves as he does because he does not target Pac-Man's tile directly. Instead, he selects an offset four tiles away from Pac-Man in the direction Pac-Man is currently moving (with one exception). The pictures below illustrate the four possible offsets Pinky will use to determine his target tile based on Pac-Man's orientation:


If Pac-Man is moving left, Pinky's target tile will be four game tiles to the left of Pac-Man's current tile. If Pac-Man is moving right, Pinky's tile will be four tiles to the right. If Pac-Man is moving down, Pinky's target is four tiles below. Finally, if Pac-Man is moving up, Pinky's target tile will be four tiles up and four tiles to the left. This interesting outcome is due to a subtle error in the logic code that calculates Pinky's offset from Pac-Man. This piece of code works properly for the other three cases but, when Pac-Man is moving upwards, triggers an overflow bug that mistakenly includes a left offset equal in distance to the expected up offset (we will see this same issue in Inky's logic later). Don Hodges' website has an excellent article giving a thorough, code-level analysis of this bug, including the source code and a proposed fix--click here to go there now.
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Great little feature on a nostalgic pleasure.
The Ferris wheel takes you nowhere but up and around. And it is precisely the lack of direction that makes you feel as if you are going everywhere. It doesn't feed us, doesn't clothe us, doesn't give us a home. But man, we're told, does not live on bread alone. --Stefany Anne Golberg
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Disturbing, yet cool.  Biotele.com

A beam of white light is made up of all the colours in the spectrum. The range extends from red through to violet, with orange, yellow, green and blue in between. But there is one colour that is notable by its absence.
 
Pink (or magenta, to use its official name) simply isn't there. But if pink isn't in the light spectrum, how come we can see it?

Here's an experiment you can try: stare at the pink circle below for about one minute, then look over at the blank white space next to the image. What do you see? You should see an afterimage. What colour is it?

                                    
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If you have a Facebook account, you're probably familiar with the "25 Things About Me" meme.  Mike McPhaden unearthed "Wm. Shakespeare's Five and Twenty Random Things Abovt Me," of which the best (IMHO) is the following:
14 On the topic of dating, my daughter Susanna loues to remind me: ~Jvliet was only thirteen! And I remind her that i) she was Italian, an impulsive race ii), she was actually played by a middle-aged Eunuch named Ned, and iii) she died. That always shvts her right vp.
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Keats can keep his urn with its leaf-fring'd legend. I've got a much better slice-of-life to share. When I called my parents tonight, my father reminded me of an exchange he had with my daughter when she was about four.
My Daughter (to her grandfather): This is my teddy bear.

My Father (to his granddaughter): I like it. Can I keep it?

My Daughter: (No answer.)

My Father: Can I have it when you're done with it?

My Daughter: You'll be dead by then.

My Father: (No answer.)

My Daughter (helpfully): When I'm done with it, I'll put it on your grave.

My Father: (No answer.)

(Later)

My Father (to me): I didn't tell her I want to be cremated. We'd have to get a little urn for the bear.
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What appears to be a smiley winks out from an 1862 transcript of a speech by ==|;o)>

emoticon-480.jpg




NY Times City Room
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Great piece from Ben Kuchera at Ars Technica.
 
Playing video games linked to breast-feeding, not crime

Today I decided to conduct an experiment. I started calling people I knew, and I asked if they had one or more video games in the house. Then I asked if they breast-fed their children. To my great shock, most answered "yes" to both. One couple I contacted switched to formula after their child's birth, and told me that they didn't play video games. The data, based on my first round of calls, was conclusive: if you play video games, you are much more likely to breast-feed your children.

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Cantina
The current management of this rather seedy venue doesn't much care about appearances, apparently. Nonetheless, it's become one of the hottest spots in the area, attracting surly alcoholics from all around. A variety of local acts, the vast majority unrelentingly terrible, play here every Tuesday night.
Coincidentally, it's Tuesday night. A host of unsavory-looking people makes up your audience for the night. They're all staring at you expectantly.
A fake plastic guitar lies on the ground in front of you. Bolted to the wall is a television screen, dark and foreboding.
>_
So it begins. Text adventures, in which a world is presented in prose and interaction is through typed commands, are one of the oldest forms of computer game; music/rhythm games like Guitar Hero, in which a world is presented in dazzling color and blaring sound and interaction is through an instrument-shaped novelty peripheral, are one of the newest. When programmer Bill Meltsner combined the two recently in the satirical Champion of Guitars, the result was a textbook example of how an amusing artwork can catch on and go viral in a wired-up community that loves poking fun at itself. It's also a textbook example of the power of the so-called "lazyweb," the blogger practice of tossing a good idea out there in the hope that someone, somewhere, with more resources or less sloth, might make it a reality. -- Darren Zenko, The Toronto Star
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Part of a list of jokes the president told at the Alfalfa Club Dinner. This set made me laugh.
"In just the first few weeks, I've had to engage in some of the toughest diplomacy of my life. And that was just to keep my BlackBerry.

"I finally agreed to limit the number of people who could e-mail me. It's a very exclusive list. How exclusive? Everyone look at the person sitting on your left. Now look at the person sitting on your right. None of you have my e-mail address." -- Barack Obama
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It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a horde of the undead in possession of insatiable hunger for the brains of the living must be in want of a Jane Austin remix.(via)
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies covers the same ground as the original masterpiece - only that ground is full freshly-vacated graves.  The "strange plague" has been the scourge of England for years.  London has been walled off, and the countryside is littered with zombies (politely referred to as "unmentionables").  Attacks occur on a daily basis - overwhelming the conventional army, and leaving England's defense to a small band of highly-trained hunter/killers.

The Bennet sisters have spent their lives training in the deadly arts, and are considered among the finest slayers of the undead.  None is more feared or admired than the lovely Elizabeth - a serious girl who has no time for silly things like love.  But when Elizabeth meets a haughty fellow slayer named Darcy, she discovers there's one thing she can't defend against...Cupid's arrow (cue sweeping romantic music).
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He thinks that he will never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

But poems charm and poems please,
And many are lovelier than "Trees."

A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast,

Can hardly look at God all day,
While lifting leafy arms to pray.

Where are her eyes, mouth, arms, and head?
Perhaps she lifts her legs instead.

Can that same tree in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair?

Perhaps her arms (or legs?) are hairy.
A tree like that should make one wary.

That bosom on which snow has lain?
You'll search a tree for it in vain.

Unless . . . a hairy bosom too?
That tree belongs inside a zoo.

One line is good. I can't complain
Of "intimately lives with rain."

Bad poems persist; they sadden me.
Not even God could make that tree.

--David L. Hoover, 2004 (Reproduced with permission.)

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"The Zoo and the Carnegie Science Center are my two favorite places in the world!" chirps my daughter from the back of the van. "Can we go to the Science Center instead?"

"No, honey, we're driving to your penguin class," I tell her.

She grabs her brother's arm. "Both of us?" she asks.

"The two of you are in different classes," I say.

From the back of the van, wailing. "But I want Peter!"

Like most siblings, my kids (age 10 and 6) don't always get along. But since they're home-schooled, they spend a lot of time together doing lessons at the kitchen table -- or rolling on the ground near the kitchen table... here's my son reading his geography book:

PDJ-Japan.JPGA few years ago, when Carolyn learned that she wouldn't be able to marry her brother when she grew up, she decided that the next best thing would be to live with her husband on one side of a duplex, while Peter lived with his wife on the other side. Between the two houses will be a laboratory, where they can experiment with robotics and genetic engineering.

While my kids have a lot of experiences together, neither is exactly shy with other people. Lately my daughter will introduce herself to a potential playmate -- such as a five-year-old boy in a fast-food play area -- by blurting, "Hey!  Do you like playing with tomboyish girls?" (The boy looked completely floored, as if he was asking himself for the first time, "Well, do I?")

As we wait in the lobby for the zoo class to start, Carolyn starts tossing her hat in the air. Soon six or eight kids have joined her, and they are making up a hat game that involves lots of running, throwing and catching, and the occasional animal noise.

Peter watches as a cheerful nine-year-old girl patiently mediates a hat-related dispute between her two little brothers.

"Now that's the kind of person I'd like to make friends with," Peter says to himself, and strides over to her. "Hello, do you like science?"

And I swear this is what he says next:

"Unless it would bore you, I'd like to share my ideas for fighting cancer through viral intervention therapy."

I almost do a spit take, but as it happens, the girl says she does like science. Peter and his new friend stand close together to one side of the lobby, as the general hat-chasing scrum surges around them.  They discuss Peter's intention to reprogram the DNA of a virus, so that when it burrows into a cancer cell it will incite the cancer cells to attack each other. They also discuss the merits of the book Coraline.  Oh, and at one point, Peter is rolling on the floor, re-creating an America's Funniest Home Videos clip in which a football smacks a kid in the butt. (Well, he is ten.)

Peter was a penguin encyclopedia when he attended his first penguin class about four years ago, though he was a little skittish when it came to meeting Sukey, a frisky two-year old Penguin.  Today is Carolyn's first penguin class, and she's not skittish at all -- in fact, she's the first in line to touch Mickey.

CMJ_penguin.png
A zoo employee tells us about how emperor penguins care for their young.  My daughter is initially horrified to learn that emperor penguin chicks don't grow up with any brothers or sisters -- the parents have only one egg at a time.

"During the middle of the winter, while the mother penguin goes off looking for food, the father penguin stays with the egg. He doesn't go anywhere for six weeks," says the teacher. "Penguins are great parents."

My daughter brightens and starts jumping up and down."My daddy is like a penguin!"

An appreciative "Awwww!" rises from the adults in the room. One mother near me mutters under her breath, "The same can't be said of every father."

"Did I embarrass you, Daddy?" my daughter shouts, delighted. "Daddy the penguin! Daddy the penguin!"
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The Freytag Pyramid
Concocted 146 years ago by a German philologist, Freytag's pyramid was long held aloft as the one-size-fits-all narrative template, despite the fact that it describes the tidy Aristotelian side of storytelling (Ben-Hur) far better than its frayed quantum fringes (Memento). Techniques like open-ended conclusion, audience interactivity, and nonlinear chronology "were part of the avant-garde 30 or 40 years ago," says UCLA film school dean Robert Rosen, "but they're taken for granted now."

Fortunately for Western civilization, I've developed a new model. Allow me to introduce Brown's Ziggurat (in 4-D!)tm. It accounts for all the time-shredding, symmetry-defying, viewer-inclusive wackiness of New Story. --Scott Brown, Wired
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