Let's hear it for classy broads

I only wish my own mother would've been as such.

Reduce Firefox's memory usage

We've all been there.

You're deep into a self-love session and have no fewer than 30 tabs open in Firefox, each with a different stimulating medium (why choose between Keeley and Pinder when you can have both, simultaneously? God bless the internets!). Just before you reach that 8 seconds of bliss, however, your machine slows to a snail's pace. You pull out your hair and rend your garments in anguish; your masturbatory rythm is ruined, thanks to the 15 second delay in just switching between tabs.

Two possible pre-emptive measures could solve your problems: 1) buy a new computer, or at least upgrade your memory, or 2) go here and find different ways to reduce the 'fox's memory usage. Some of the suggestions are obvious (clear your history), but others are very clever (assign a memory cache).

Recently, but very belatedly, I chose the former; now I tab away, without fear:

Fap * Tab * Fap * Tab * Fap * Tab * Fap * Tab * Fap

Viva la Cube.

Al Gore has invented and built a time machine. It runs on shredded paperwork.

Following is an excerpt from an interview he gave The People's Cube.

"So what exactly can you do to correct our history?"
"We can enhance national security."
"How?"
"By going back in time, don't you see?"
"You mean, everybody? So the terrorists can't find us?"
"That's as good a plan as any. Will require a lot of shredded paperwork, though."
"I see. Would it be possible, perhaps, to go back in time and locate certain documents pertaining to your Administration's handling of national security, and shred them before they become classified?"
"I believe Sandy Berger took care of that already. Only he traveled in time manually, so to speak, with a pair of socks and scissors," the inventor laughed, bringing much needed comic relief to the serious discussion.

.....

"How exactly is your time machine supposed to advance human progress?"
"Well, I don't know... I suppose I can bring Karl Marx to modern-day America and have him sort out Bush's tax cuts and social security reform."
"Is that really possible?"
"Don't question Karl Marx, young man. His theory is infallible. It is us who fail to implement it correctly due to our sinful, greedy human nature aggravated by conservative Republican policies."
"I would never question Marx, sir. I was just asking if you could really revive Marx and bring him to us."
"Absolutely. The other day I time-traveled to Moscow and revived Lenin."
"You did what?"
"It was a scientific experiment. History will thank me for that."
"Did you bring him to Washington?"
"I didn't. The man is a maniac. Just out of Mausoleum and he's already posing for cameras and petting children. The next minute he sees a Pierre Cardin store on Red Square and starts agitating from the balcony, ordering the proletarians to loot the looters and burn down the mall. Washington? You'd think one Al Sharpton is enough, thank you very much."

Read the whole thing.

THIS. IS. AWESOME.

A large part of why I am drawn to any particular genre of music is a fascination with the (probably romanticized) background culture that births, propagates, and then sustains it (hence obsessions with the G Funk era, Guns N' fuckin' Roses and their fellow degenerate, late 80's rockers, and the Ramones/CBGB's, to name only a few.) Someday I will write extensively about the anthropological givings of modern music, but today is not that day.

Today you get "Fans Behind the Music: REO Speedwagon Edition."

The 'wagon is the shit, and not just because they were cock-rocking before the genre was even invented. They are equally amazing for the sole reason that there really are Joe Dirts out there, and Joe Dirts love them.



As you can see, just about all the bases are covered here: white trash, blue jean shorts, mullets, drunkenness, battered-looking trailer broads wearing too little clothing, paint huffing, and cold-cocking. I would've loved to hear the surely civilized conversation that led up to this.

Note: I stumbled across this while watching youtube videos of various live versions of Africa. God bless the children.

UPDATE: Butt rock, indeed. This says it all, really:

I'm almost embarrassed to even address the subject...

...given the disgusting amount of overexposure the V-Tech killings have already received, so I'll just make this a one and done. For the most part, I've succesfully avoided cable news outlets since Monday, but I have inadvertantly caught bits of coverage here and there. The media is truly pervasive.

One interview I saw on Monday has particularly stuck with me. It was with a female student, a freshman, who looked like a poster girl for the feminazis. She had a Mr. Clean shaved head, her ear lobes were plugged, wore thick horn-rimmed glasses, and had the air of an arrogant cunt. (Incidentally, I don't feel bad judging her by her appearance; anyone that presents themself like that is begging to be judged.) You already know her line: she expressed outrage (Zzzz...) that the school administration had not responded sooner to the initial acts of violence.

Even now, I can't help but be amazed at the supreme irony in her remarks. She who is (al)most certainly of an "Impeach Bush" strain expressing anger that the executive power failed to take swift, unilateral action against a man that posed an imminent and mortal threat. "A madman with a gun was on the loose, and the administration failed to take a hard enough course of action in stopping him and securing us!"

Maddening, these people.

For the most part, however, my thoughts have tended to focus on the actions (and possible lackthereof) of the students and faculty who were present during the second shooting.

"Remember: when we say "we don't know what we'd do under the same circumstances", we make cowardice the default position."

My initial reaction in learning that the shooter had locked himself in the building with all those people was to juxtapose that situation against that of United Flight 93 on 9/11. It was on that flight that men refused to resign their fates to other men with guns pointed at them; there that virtus truly made itself manifest, and at the hour of death, no less. No doubt, such courage was displayed on Monday, but I can't help but wonder to what extent.

That may sound terribly uncharitable to the dead and their families, but I think it's necessary to ponder. It is precisely because these atrocities occur that we should all not only consider but charge ourselves with what we would do under the same circumstances.

Links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Phillistines! We're all Phillistines!

This should be an especially poignant experiment for the Triumvirate, considering the level of musical pretention floating around here (Have you seen the video for Feist's 1234? It's happy sauce. Replace this Cansei de Ser Sexy shit).

Set-up: Take a world-renowned violinist normally commanding $1,000/minute for concert performances. Have him play a 1713 Stradivarius purchased for roughly $3.5 million. Put him in a subway entrance. Watch.

The results are about as depressing as one would expect. But hey, maybe getting your work put into the proper context is part of the art. All philosophical rooting left to those so inclined, it's a nice little social experiment to bring up to all those classy broads at all those classy socialite events we all go to all the time. All.

"It's a bit of a jewel."

What is it? The recently discovered, symmetric bipolar nebula around MWC 922!

Story.

On a scale this massive, the symmetry is uncanny. A picture like this is comparable to that of SN1987A - unbelievable!

Trauma Drama

Apparently, car wrecks can do some monstrous things to our soft, warm little bodies. Mr. T says, "Wear your safety belt!"

Halfway through another of my ill-advised Saturday 3-11 p.m. shift, 11-3 a.m. alcoholic binge, 7 a.m. - 3 p.m. shift masochism festivals, I half-heartedly wish that Vince is wrong and there actually is a personal sleep bank. I'll hibernate before my internship.

I've got some paper towels

My brothers and I used to use this oneline like it was going out of style. I still get tempted to bust it out every now and then, but I know no one will ever get it.





From The Great Muppet Caper, probably my favorite (hence, the best) Muppet movie ever.

Jack Warden has a cameo in TGMC as Fozzie and Kermit's editor. Of course, we also remember Jack for classic work in the classics Problem Child 1 & 2. Here's a timeless scene from the latter. Make sure you watch the whole thing - the payoff is AMAZING.

Geography and dialect

It should be obvious enough that people from different regions of the England have different accents, but that's not a fact that I ever really internalize. Enter Collect Britain, a showcase of items from the British Library, and an anglophile's wet dream. Among its collections of historical maps, drawings, manuscripts, and artwork are over 600 voice recordings of (strictly) English accents.

Most of the ones I've come are from rural folk, and were recorded in the 1950's, so you've gotta guess that their dialects on the decline by now. One can't help but feel at least a slight twang of heartache in listening to these people wax nostalgic about "the old days" and how much better they were (the common theme for most of these recordings). That's another one we can chalk up to the modern era - an oppressive cultural homogeneity.

Here are some of my favorites:

Bob from Cornwall

George from Northumberland - I bet you can't understand a word of this one

Frank from Buckinghamshire - badger baiting!

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See also the Speech Accent Archive, which collects a large sample of native and non-native speakers of English reading the same short text. Just like in real life, the Dallas accent is far superior to the Houston one. Go listen for yourself.

TV on the Radio and ...... CANCER

So, despite Toony's advance notice, the Brothers Siy did not make it to the Ted Leo concert at Numbers, instead opting for extreme intoxication at a sausagefest bar (Little Woodrow's in The Village), free pool, and Turkish food.

Anyway, I present a few memorable highlights of TV on the Radio's 3rd Texas performance in as many nights. First, Tunde was definitely out of sorts with his impossibly long trademark left hand making about thrice the air rotations I've seen in the past and flinging water into the crowd/dumping it on himself. Rockstar! He also started screaming his voice out a la Hamilton Leithauser (Rockstar!), which is depressing considering the usual effortlessness of his range. Nonetheless, it was a solid (fucking loud) performance only slightly eclipsed by a pair of concert-going invalids.

1. Mental midget #1, after dilligent pre-show study of TV on the Radio's entire catalogue, found a song he could in good conscience deem "ROCK" in Wolf Like Me. So, in mid-90's fashion, he honored the song's performance by sincerely moshing into a statuesque brunette who, in turn, insincerely moshed into the back of my head. Needless to say, hipsters and the financially successful do not mosh, so after realizing the seizure was invading their space and touching their ladies, calculated hostility quieted our little bald firebrand. Song = ruined.

2. Mental midget #2 had no idea who TV on the Radio is. Now, that isn't inherently wrong. A band's live performance often acts as a catalyst for fandom. This, in contrast, was a drunken KA alum, resplendent in pastel polo and 8-year old boy haircut, hoping to dance (i.e., convulse) on some rather cute hipster chicks who he was unfortunately acquainted with. That in itself chafes my chode. To exacerbate the situation, after realizing I had no plans to pull the Concert Scrunch so he could manhandle the short chicks I had quite deliberately situated myself behind, he pulled the Palms Together Arm Insert while slurring, "I need to get by." This is approximately 10 songs into the set. So, from then on he generously shielded me from the visual spectacle of the band while, credit given where due, impressively maintaining an epileptic merengue for the last songs of the set. I acquainted myself with the muscles of the human back. Brian gave him a forearm shove for no reason. I love you bro.

Nevertheless, it was a fun night despite the meager alcohol consumption. A post about Brian's ride the next day is warranted.


And on the medical front, a surprisingly good article on the need for and nature of cancer screening via The Washington Post. Some choice quotes to whet the appetite:

And if you really want to find as much cancer as possible, we would suggest whole-body CT, MRI and PET scans every month. But that would be absurd. Why? Because the goal is not to find more cancer. The goal is to save lives. The two goals are not the same.

Doctors and the public need to understand that finding more cancer is not the answer. You want to know whether a test saves lives or reduces the number of people with metastatic cancer. And you want to know about the downsides: how many people suffer needlessly in the process.

My worthless education

Stumbled across a great little essay about the disservice done to all in the way math is currently taught: "If We Taught English the Way We Teach Math."

That I happened upon this piece of writing is highly coincidental, in that just recently I have been reflecting on the undergraduate curriculum I completed that sufficed for a B.S. in Mathematics. I've come to the dismal conclusion that in 3.5 years worth of training in higher math, the only things I managed to internalize were a few definitions and some general concepts.

Granted, the primary function of an undergraduate degree in any of the natural sciences is merely to instill in the student a solid understanding of the most basic building blocks of his area of study; it is to serve as a foundation for the infinitely more in-depth studies of the Masters and Doctorate programs. As such, a rigid, strict, and formulaic (no pun intended) approach to teaching is to be expected in the undergraduate program. Still, one can't help but take on a defeatist attitude in the realization that his $100,000 education is woefully incomplete in itself.

One of the problems may be that at a highly competitive school like Texas, professors have no choice but to place the majority of their focus on research. Teaching is of secondary importance - who knows how many would actually hold office hours if they weren't required to by their departments. Though few and far between, those who exert more than the minimum effort to teach something are an acceptable payoff. I used to scratch my head when fellow students would express their outrage at such-and-such professor's frequent philosophical tangents. What is wrong with these people?

I think I'm rambling.

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Hard to believe it's already been a year, but this week is Holy Week and today's another Maundy Thursday.

The Mandatum, of which is derived Maundy:

mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos ut et vos diligatis invicem

I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.

Now's the time for me to hole up and focus on the season; stillness and silence began tonight at dusk.

The Easter Triduum - it's the most holy time of the year!

You'll Shoot Your Eye Out Kid

Sad news...yesterday, Hollywood director Bob Clark, the guy behind "A Christmas Story," (and Porky's incidetally) died in an auto accident. He was with his son driving down the PCH in California when they were hit by a drunk driver. Really sucks. "A Christmas Story" is definitely one of my favorite flicks, as I have plans to be Ralphie in the bunny costume for Halloween this year. It's a shame. I have this DVD, may have to watch it tonight.



On a lighter note... FRIDAY OFF!! Tickets for Grindhouse at 7:00. This would be my most anticipated movie of the year, if it weren't for this.

Keith Richards is funny!

"The strangest thing I've tried to snort? My father. I snorted my father," Richards was quoted as saying by British music magazine NME.

"He was cremated and I couldn't resist grinding him up with a little bit of blow. My dad wouldn't have cared," he said. "... It went down pretty well, and I'm still alive."

....

"I was No. 1 on the `who's likely to die' list for 10 years. I mean, I was really disappointed when I fell off the list," Richards said.

Keith Richards is the bestestest!

Link.

Three Cheers for Blind Faith in the Internet

Basically, some things are worth the leap. We must disseminate this most assuredly spurious information. It's a mandate for all mankind.

In other news, the next Casa de Siy is pretty much sealed with mortgage rate locked in and option period about over. Basically, once a girl succumbs and enters the home, fluids will be swapped. Imagine a pool table in the living room and less staid bedroom furniture (God the furniture they have in my bedroom is awful). Did I mention I get to live here as a medical student? My recommendation for a comfortable life: have motivated siblings.

Trailer for a trailer? A sneak peak...

As you're all aware, not only is Grindhouse going to be presented as a double feature, but it will be shown complete with faux trailers for fictional films. Eli Roth (Hostel), Edgar Wright (Sean of the Dead), and Rob Zombie (uhhh) are each directing one.

Head over to IGN to see Roth's work on Thanksgiving. It's got all kinds of nudity, so you'll need to verify your age.

Hooray, IGN!

This comes out on Friday... but go see it on Monday!

GH2 on the 360

Today I ordered Guitar Hero 2 for the 360! That's right, it's the Multiplayer Bundle - I call lead! Red Octane has a special where they even throw in a free gig bag. This is going to be the best Easter ever.

Good things about the 360 version:

1. New songs.
2. Additional, downloadable songs available from Xbox Live.

Bad things about the 360 version:

1. No Xbox Live playability.
2. More expensive than PS2 version (but then, so is every game on the 360).

If anyone else is planning on buying this, doing so today at Circuit City would be a smart move. If you buy the Single Player Multipack, they'll give you a free card with 1700 Xbox Live points ($20 value). Today only!

ATHF:MFFT one-sheet

Outstanding.

UPDATE: Much higher resolution artwork here.

The penance of guilt ridden yuppies

Read this NYT article first.

A commenter takes the words right out of my mouth:

This experiment is a cute and interesting way to raise awareness of our bad habits, but the Conlin-Beavan family does not face the difficulties that so many American families do. It’s nice that Mr. Conlin has the time and the MONEY to shop and cook for locally grown, organically produced food (and it’s oh-so-kind of them to let their cleaning lady keep her vacuum). But what about the people who have to work multiple jobs just to get enough food of any kind on the table, even if it’s Kraft mac and cheese? What about the residents of low-income neighborhoods whose only option is to shop at a convenience store because there ARE no grocery stores? And what about the people living in rural America who shop at Wal-Mart and don’t even have access to the produce being grown all around them because of how screwed-up our food systems are in this country? The Comlin-Beavans must look beyond their own family and see what they can do to help others and change the systems in place. Real changes occur when we care about the needs of others, not just ourselves.

It is not impressive to me to see some 5th Ave yuppies go a year without balsalmic vinegar. We have to address the serious resource inequities in this country before people like the Conlin-Beavans fret over having accidentally eaten in a restaurant.

As much as I enjoyed reading Crunchy Cons, that was my main critique of it, as well - that other than implementing a recycling program, the lifestyle being advocated is completely inaccessable to a family with even average means.

For all our sakes, I'll allay my desire to open the can of worms that is the list of Conlin-Beavan motivating factors. Dreher has philosophy and theology as an impetus for change; these people have Al fucking Gore. He invented the internets, for Pete's sake!