ab·surd (b-sûrd, -zûrd) adj.
1. Ridiculously incongruous or unreasonable.
2. Inconsistent with reason or logic or common sense
3. Of, relating to, or manifesting the view that there is no order or value in human life or in the universe.
N. The condition or state in which humans exist in a meaningless, irrational universe wherein people's lives have no purpose or meaning.
[Latin absurdus, out of tune, absurd : ab-, intensive pref.; see ab-1 + surdus, deaf, muffled.]
From Geekologie -- the Periodic Table of Awesoments (as seen by geeks, of which I do claim some allegiance): (Click on the link above for the full-sized version...and enjoy!)
You'll note that pretty much everything that is great is on the table, with spaces of course for the elements that are yet to be (or be recognized!).
As our story opens, a mysterious plague has fallen upon the quiet English village of Meryton—and the dead are returning to life! Feisty heroine Elizabeth Bennet is determined to wipe out the zombie menace, but she's soon distracted by the arrival of the haughty and arrogant Mr. Darcy. What ensues is a delightful comedy of manners with plenty of civilized sparring between the two young lovers—and even more violent sparring on the blood-soaked battlefield as Elizabeth wages war against hordes of flesh-eating undead.
Uh...Okay.
I feel gullible tonight. Maybe I should just go to bed. This will all make sense in the morning.
The irony of course is that probably many women would love to have their uteruses (? uteri!) recalled...while others would love to have one to play with.
But kids? Who'd have thought internal organ plush dolls be a desirable toy?
Ah well. I've had deeper thoughts on a Sunday morning before, that's for sure!
The Chrono-Shredder is a device that reminds us of the preciousness of our lifetime. It represents the passing of time by shredding the days of the year – printed on a paper roll – at a slow constant rate. To shred one day takes 24 hours. There is no "off"-button. As the seconds pass by, the tattered remains of the past pile up under the device…
Imagine waking up in the morning with an enormous pile of shreddies (as my hubby calls them) on the floor...would you, as the designer asks, start counting the finite hours of your day like calories?
So many English gags depend on the difficulty speakers of other languages have with our language. Part of that is that so many people, from so many countries, study English -- so we have a lot of different accents to make fun of. (But trust me, English speakers are not alone -- every language is made a butt of some joke, somewhere.)
The fact that speakers of many Asian languages cannot wrap their lips around the English liquids /r/ and /l/ is probably the most demonized of any pronunciation problem. I did my BA in Linguistics and taught English as a Second Language for 12 years, 3 of those in Korea, so pronunciation is one of my interests.
Simply put, English /r/ and /l/ are two completely different phonemes -- two distinct sounds. In languages like Korean, what we hear as /r/ and /l/ are allophones of the same phoneme -- essentially the same sound, used in slightly different ways. To a Korean ear, 'pirate' and 'pilot' are the exact same word. Korean has its own complexities, and if more non-native speakers learned it, there would be (and probably are) loads of gags about how we pronounce their language. Hell, they have 3 completely different phonemes for where we would have the /p/ and /b/. [Fascinating stuff.]
All of that said, one of the funniest (and poignant) elements in the movie Team America: World Police (2004) is the characterization of Kim Jong Il of North Korea, especially his song, "I'm So Ronery":
I saw the movie for the first time this week, and had to watch it again last night 'cause it was haunting me a bit.
Imagine my surprise when this morning in my inb0x is a video of a Korean toddler singing "Hey Jude":
So cute, my teeth are melting.
Have a pun day! (Koreans also do not have the phonemes /f/ and /v/, they use sounds similar to our /p/ and /b/ instead.)
For me, it's bringing a job shift in 4 weeks. Literally packing up my stuff, and shifting to a different work location -- 4 blocks away and a level of government down. Talk about mixed feelings.
But 2009 is also a year of intentions I have set for myself. Would you like to hear them?
I will be producing and directing a play. I've decided that I just have to create my own opportunities to direct in this town. (More on that later, as it unfolds.)
I am going to get more physically active -- just 'cause it is going to happen. Raincoaster is attempting to share her exercise video fetish with me, by giving me a wealth of DVD workout fromage: Cardio Burlesque, Tahitian Cardio, and Belly Dance with Veils, to name just a few. I also intend on getting into snowshoeing, and back into X-country skiing.
I'd like to go camping this summer. We totally missed out this last year, because Metro misunderstood "I don't like setting up in the dark and dining on lukewarm canned stew heated over a tiny burner, shivering" to mean "I don't want to camp ever" so he proceded to fill his weekends with plays, poker and sailing. What this intention really says is that I intend on filling as many weekends this year with activities my husband and I do together.
Speaking of activities I'd like to do more of...I want to do more roadtrips, preferably with the hubby. I found this fabulous article on How to Road Trip that includes invaluable rules such as "The driver controls the music" and "No bogarting the Twizzlers"! Reading this just makes me want to go!
Here's a piece of open road from one of our recent day trips:
(Click on the link above for the full-sized version...and enjoy!)
What every little kid needs, a stuffed liver to play with.
The irony of course is that probably many women would love to have their uteruses (? uteri!) recalled...while others would love to have one to play with.
Designer Susan Hertrich describes her clock:
So what are your intentions for 2009?
