She coughed and rubbed her eyes and it seemed to take far to long for the dust to finally settle. When it did, she looked up at the hole she had fallen through and could not believe she had fallen so far. How could she still be alive? The answer began to dawn on her as her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she found herself looking up into an enormous face that could have filled up a billboard. But the face wasn't on a billboard, it was on a head, and the head was on a neck, and the neck was on a body, and the body had arms, and the arms had hands, and one of the hands was holding her up.
She screamed then, not because she felt it was the responsible thing to do at the time; rather, the scream had come naturally to her and no other ideas had presented themselves so the scream was the default response. The huge face winced and the huge hands set her down, and then they covered up the huge ears until her screaming stopped.
The echos of her scream finally faded away, but this took some time as they were in a rounded cavern the size of a football stadium and all the noises seemed to bounce around forever. It all seemed too much to take in, the giant room and the giant thing which looked less like a giant human and more like a giant bear with human proportions and digits. Though he sounded human enough when he said,
"Thank you for stopping."
"Thanks you for not killing me." It seemed like the appropriate thing to say and, like the scream, it had also come naturally.
"Why would I want to kill you? Have you done something to me?"
"No, it just seemed like sort of the thing a monster would do to a little girl."
"Oh, I didn't know you were a little girl." He thought for a moment before continuing, "I didn't know I was a monster." And because he had heard of little girls and that they were often silly things he was sceptical of her claim. "How do you know I'm a monster?"
"You look a little like the monsters in my books."
He knew about books. He had heard the birds talking about books. People used to try to catch the birds and eat them, but now they just waited around and watched them and tried to find them in their books.
"And these monsters, they kill little girls?"
"Yes, they kill everyone or chase everyone until a hero kills them."
"All the monsters do this?" He had always been wary of sweeping generalizations.
"Well, I suppose not all of them. I guess sometimes they fall in love like in Beauty and the Beat, and then they are good. Or sometimes they are funny like in Shrek and he fell in love too."
"Oh, so to be a good monster you have to fall in love?"
She thought about this for a while and couldn't think of any monsters who turned out to be good and didn't fall in love. In fact, most of them fell in love with princesses.
"Yeah" she said, "I guess it's pretty important to do that."
He had been in love a long time ago, before he came to his cave. Before there were little girls or even that many birds on the outside. He hadn't thought about it in a very long time, but now that he did he could feel a little bit of the way he used to feel.
"I was in love once, I may still be in love with her a little."
"That's good." She said with huge volume of relief in her voice. The monster was surprised that something that small could seem to be filled with that much relief. "Was she a princess?"
"No, I don't think she was a princess. At least she never mentioned it."
"Was she beautiful?"
"I loved to look at her. And she was very soft."
The little girl looked at his bear-like fur and could easily believe that something it loved would be very soft.
"I would like to hear about her, but I should be getting home. Can you you lift me out of the hole?"
"The ceiling is too high, even for me. But I can carry you to another opening, and while we walk I will tell you about her."
And maybe he did.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Splitting Hairs
Recently, Dr. Qui Peng of Georgetown University’s School of Medicine and Dr. Laura Naylor of the Mayo Clinic isolated a bacterium that had been causing severe respiratory failure in those who had inhaled it. These bacteria fed almost exclusively off of filamentous biomaterial such as the material that makes up our hair. 85% of those who suffered from the respiratory failure were hairdressers.
The bacteria eats into the center of the hair beneath the Dermic coat and Hyaline layer so few are exposed to it until the hair is cut open. The bacteria becomes especially potent when exposed to an oxidizing agent or an alkalizing agent. These agents are present in virtually all permanent hair color products.
Fortunately for the reticent, when this bacteria is inhaled through the nose it is effectively disposed of through the nasal cavity's ciliated pseudostratified columnar epithelium. However, when inhaled through the mouth, more of the bacteria is transferred to the lungs where it will eventually cause respiratory failure. Unfortunately so many hair dressers spend so much time talking and so few of them are trained in ventriloquism the probability of stylist being exposed increases with every question answered and asked.
Attempting to treat the infected has proven difficult. It was established that the spread of the bacteria and it's effect on the lungs could be mitigated if the patient could be made to stay quiet and very still. Though few doctors have been able to apply this treatment to their infected hair stylist patients given their natural predilection to conversation and hand movement. Many of the patients have literally talked themselves to death.
Funding for this research was provided by a grant from the John Paul DeJoria foundation whose mission statement is "To Provide better care for haircare professionals".
The bacteria eats into the center of the hair beneath the Dermic coat and Hyaline layer so few are exposed to it until the hair is cut open. The bacteria becomes especially potent when exposed to an oxidizing agent or an alkalizing agent. These agents are present in virtually all permanent hair color products.
Fortunately for the reticent, when this bacteria is inhaled through the nose it is effectively disposed of through the nasal cavity's ciliated pseudostratified columnar epithelium. However, when inhaled through the mouth, more of the bacteria is transferred to the lungs where it will eventually cause respiratory failure. Unfortunately so many hair dressers spend so much time talking and so few of them are trained in ventriloquism the probability of stylist being exposed increases with every question answered and asked.
Attempting to treat the infected has proven difficult. It was established that the spread of the bacteria and it's effect on the lungs could be mitigated if the patient could be made to stay quiet and very still. Though few doctors have been able to apply this treatment to their infected hair stylist patients given their natural predilection to conversation and hand movement. Many of the patients have literally talked themselves to death.
Funding for this research was provided by a grant from the John Paul DeJoria foundation whose mission statement is "To Provide better care for haircare professionals".
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Dial M for Memories
It's been a while since I've watched Law and Order or Boston Legal so please forgive any errors in terms or rules of procedure
Defense The prosecution has failed to provide any evidence of my client's guilt. I move for an immediate dismissal.
Judge I am inclined to grant the motion. Does the prosecution have anything it would like to add?
Prosecutor The prosecution calls to the stand... The Defendant's Mattress!
(Gasps are heard throughout the courtroom)
Defense Your Honor, I object to this witness. A mattress cannot be made to testify against its clients.
Judge Though the mattress and the defendant have been sleeping together, they are not married so their communication is not considered privileged. That said, while there are many instances of evidence being take from off or out of a mattress I have never heard of one willing to testify against a client. Tread carefully counselor.
ProsecutorWill you please state your name and occupation for the courtroom?
MattressMy name is Mattress, and I am a professional mattress.
ProsecutorAnd do you have any specialties that make you unique?
MattressI am a memory-foam mattress.
(Gasps are heard throughout the courtroom. The defendant lowers and shakes his head)
ProsecutorSo you could tell us things about the defendant that a normal mattress would not have ever known, or at least would not be able to remember, is that correct?
DefenseObjection! Leading the mattress! I mean the wittress! I mean the witness!
JudgeObjection sustained. You will abstain from fluffing the testimony of the mattress. This is your last warning.
ProsecutorI withdraw the question. Mattress, can you tell us what makes a memory-foam mattress unique?
MattressI remember the positions of the people who sleep on me, and the distribution of their weight, so eventually I conform to their preferred sleeping positions. After the same person sleeps on me long enough I begin to remember their memories and conform to those memories so recollection is easier for them when they're laying on me.
ProsecutorDo any of the memories added after October 25th stand out?
MattressHe returned to bed much later than usual the night of October 25th. Really it was more like early morning on the 26th. He was acting really strange. He didn't slip into his normal indent on the right side of the bed, but lay on his side on the left side for a while. I knew he would wake up with a backache if I let him stay there, so when he had fallen asleep I settled him over into his usual spot. After a while his memories started to foam up so I could start to take them in. He had knocked the pillow off the bed, so the memories were even more clear than usual.
That night he had met a woman for dinner who I recognized from other memories. After dinner, they walked to his bank where she worked. The bank was closed, but they walked round the back and used a card she had to get into the back offices. They went into an office with the name Steve Melvin on the door, and he picked a lock on the desk and took out a key. A hallway from those offices led to another room she scanned her way into. It was full of safety deposit boxes. He had a box at this bank, but it had been in a different room accessible from the main lobby. There were two key holes in one of the boxes and he put in the key he had just taken out of the desk and she took a key off of a chain around her neck. They took out a small case, but never opened it so I don't know what was inside. They walked out the way they had come in and got into a cab parked a few blocks away.
They drove about 15 miles South on I-5 until they came to a rest stop. He said he had to use the bathroom and didn't take the case, but when he passed her line of sight he walked on to the other side of the rest stop and got into a different car. He waited there for about a minute and a half until he heard 3 gunshots then he drove off North on I-5.
Prosecutor (Holding up a photograph of a dead woman in a car.) Is this the woman and the car from his memory?
The mattress starts to cry. It looks down at its left side where, if you knew what you were looking for, you could see the indentation of a woman who slept on her left side and had the most beautiful memories the mattress had ever remembered.
Defense The prosecution has failed to provide any evidence of my client's guilt. I move for an immediate dismissal.
Judge I am inclined to grant the motion. Does the prosecution have anything it would like to add?
Prosecutor The prosecution calls to the stand... The Defendant's Mattress!
(Gasps are heard throughout the courtroom)
Defense Your Honor, I object to this witness. A mattress cannot be made to testify against its clients.
Judge Though the mattress and the defendant have been sleeping together, they are not married so their communication is not considered privileged. That said, while there are many instances of evidence being take from off or out of a mattress I have never heard of one willing to testify against a client. Tread carefully counselor.
ProsecutorWill you please state your name and occupation for the courtroom?
MattressMy name is Mattress, and I am a professional mattress.
ProsecutorAnd do you have any specialties that make you unique?
MattressI am a memory-foam mattress.
(Gasps are heard throughout the courtroom. The defendant lowers and shakes his head)
ProsecutorSo you could tell us things about the defendant that a normal mattress would not have ever known, or at least would not be able to remember, is that correct?
DefenseObjection! Leading the mattress! I mean the wittress! I mean the witness!
JudgeObjection sustained. You will abstain from fluffing the testimony of the mattress. This is your last warning.
ProsecutorI withdraw the question. Mattress, can you tell us what makes a memory-foam mattress unique?
MattressI remember the positions of the people who sleep on me, and the distribution of their weight, so eventually I conform to their preferred sleeping positions. After the same person sleeps on me long enough I begin to remember their memories and conform to those memories so recollection is easier for them when they're laying on me.
ProsecutorDo any of the memories added after October 25th stand out?
MattressHe returned to bed much later than usual the night of October 25th. Really it was more like early morning on the 26th. He was acting really strange. He didn't slip into his normal indent on the right side of the bed, but lay on his side on the left side for a while. I knew he would wake up with a backache if I let him stay there, so when he had fallen asleep I settled him over into his usual spot. After a while his memories started to foam up so I could start to take them in. He had knocked the pillow off the bed, so the memories were even more clear than usual.
That night he had met a woman for dinner who I recognized from other memories. After dinner, they walked to his bank where she worked. The bank was closed, but they walked round the back and used a card she had to get into the back offices. They went into an office with the name Steve Melvin on the door, and he picked a lock on the desk and took out a key. A hallway from those offices led to another room she scanned her way into. It was full of safety deposit boxes. He had a box at this bank, but it had been in a different room accessible from the main lobby. There were two key holes in one of the boxes and he put in the key he had just taken out of the desk and she took a key off of a chain around her neck. They took out a small case, but never opened it so I don't know what was inside. They walked out the way they had come in and got into a cab parked a few blocks away.
They drove about 15 miles South on I-5 until they came to a rest stop. He said he had to use the bathroom and didn't take the case, but when he passed her line of sight he walked on to the other side of the rest stop and got into a different car. He waited there for about a minute and a half until he heard 3 gunshots then he drove off North on I-5.
Prosecutor (Holding up a photograph of a dead woman in a car.) Is this the woman and the car from his memory?
The mattress starts to cry. It looks down at its left side where, if you knew what you were looking for, you could see the indentation of a woman who slept on her left side and had the most beautiful memories the mattress had ever remembered.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Lawless Victory
My Mother came from Argentina and my Father came from Australia. We all know Australia as a penal colony of the United Kingdom; populated by old-timey English criminals and enormous rodents. And my Mother, though she came from Argentina is actually of German decent. German residents of Argentina are well known as remnant Nazis. So here I was born in the heartland of America with the blood of Nazis and petty thieves; and yet, bam I became a citizen of the greatest country in the world.
I bring this up because there was a lot of talk in the last election campaigning from several prominent politicians and pundits suggesting that we repeal the 14th amendment. As a civics refresher, the 14th amendment guarantees (among other things) that if you are born in the United States then you are a citizen of the United States, regardless of your parent's nationality. Or as they put it:
I not only worry about the next generation of first generation citizens, but also for myself, as there is no reason to think that they wouldn't make the repealing of the amendment retroactive. To protect my self and others I propose the introduction of Buffer Amendments. We introduce one each election cycle that says that no amendment can be repealed unless this amendment is first repealed. And no more than one amendment can be repealed at a time. So we keep hammering these buffers into the constitution until the xenophobics (those afraid of foreigners and warrior princesses) start repealing them, then we push back and forth in a mighty battle for citizenship.
Now, at this point some of you are saying to yourself, "This sounds remarkably similar to the system that protects our world from demon invasion by requiring that the demons defeat earth's warriors in trial by Mortal Kombat (spelling?) for seven years in a row." And while I am not prepared to address that concern at this time I will say that there is merit to the analogy and if we had appointed Lord Raiden as Secretary of Energy a decade ago we would be paying much lower energy bills today.
I bring this up because there was a lot of talk in the last election campaigning from several prominent politicians and pundits suggesting that we repeal the 14th amendment. As a civics refresher, the 14th amendment guarantees (among other things) that if you are born in the United States then you are a citizen of the United States, regardless of your parent's nationality. Or as they put it:
All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.
I not only worry about the next generation of first generation citizens, but also for myself, as there is no reason to think that they wouldn't make the repealing of the amendment retroactive. To protect my self and others I propose the introduction of Buffer Amendments. We introduce one each election cycle that says that no amendment can be repealed unless this amendment is first repealed. And no more than one amendment can be repealed at a time. So we keep hammering these buffers into the constitution until the xenophobics (those afraid of foreigners and warrior princesses) start repealing them, then we push back and forth in a mighty battle for citizenship.
Now, at this point some of you are saying to yourself, "This sounds remarkably similar to the system that protects our world from demon invasion by requiring that the demons defeat earth's warriors in trial by Mortal Kombat (spelling?) for seven years in a row." And while I am not prepared to address that concern at this time I will say that there is merit to the analogy and if we had appointed Lord Raiden as Secretary of Energy a decade ago we would be paying much lower energy bills today.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Ad Nauseam
One of the greatest moments of my life was writing a bit of silliness that included the Jeep Compass and then having Jeep Compass ads appear on my blog. Every now and again you may notice a line or reference that doesn't fit into a post. 7 times out of 10 that's just me enjoying an inside joke with myself. But every now again it's me trying to get google to send me a particular advertiser.
With the elections upon there must be better political ads out there than what I'm currently seeing on my site. So by way of summoning the ads from the great beyond I begin my incantation:
Mama Grizzly and Baby Grizzly were walking quickly through the woods. They were late to the tea party and were quite embarrassed as they were to be the honored guests. But Mama Grizzly had been up late discussing income taxes, liquor laws, and other issues with Mr. Fox.
Mama Grizzly liked Mr. Fox, he always agreed with her and paid her very well. Though his house was always full of foolish blonds who reminded her of an unpleasant experience she had had years ago when she had come home to find a blond girl sleeping in her house. Papa Bear had sworn he had never seen her before in his life, but Mama had noticed a few too many blond hairs around the house before and this was the final straw. She took baby bear and moved back in with her mother, reassuming her maiden name, Grizzly.
Sorry, I have to end the story right there because being on the subject of smart ads this is too apropos too pass up. When I was making sure I was spelling "Blonds" correctly (get off my back I'm always afraid of the silent e) I noticed these interesting related searches when you type "blonds" into dictionary.com
I worry about the young generation. I never had to deal with those sorts of distractions when I looked things up in the dictionary.
With the elections upon there must be better political ads out there than what I'm currently seeing on my site. So by way of summoning the ads from the great beyond I begin my incantation:
Mama Grizzly and Baby Grizzly were walking quickly through the woods. They were late to the tea party and were quite embarrassed as they were to be the honored guests. But Mama Grizzly had been up late discussing income taxes, liquor laws, and other issues with Mr. Fox.
Mama Grizzly liked Mr. Fox, he always agreed with her and paid her very well. Though his house was always full of foolish blonds who reminded her of an unpleasant experience she had had years ago when she had come home to find a blond girl sleeping in her house. Papa Bear had sworn he had never seen her before in his life, but Mama had noticed a few too many blond hairs around the house before and this was the final straw. She took baby bear and moved back in with her mother, reassuming her maiden name, Grizzly.
Sorry, I have to end the story right there because being on the subject of smart ads this is too apropos too pass up. When I was making sure I was spelling "Blonds" correctly (get off my back I'm always afraid of the silent e) I noticed these interesting related searches when you type "blonds" into dictionary.com
I worry about the young generation. I never had to deal with those sorts of distractions when I looked things up in the dictionary.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Star Lite
"I will be a star one day, you know?"
He had not known this. He turned to look at the woman (or girl; depending on whether you asked her mother or an anthropologist) sitting on his couch and leaning on him (or cuddling; depending on whether you are novice or journeyman cuddler). He did not know who she was. He had felt something against him as he watched the movie but hadn't realized it was a person until it had talked. And so he did the only thing a reasonable person would do in such a situation. He asked,
"Who are you?"
Her face bet on a trifecta of looks. First surprised, then a little offended, and then comprehension as she saw the deeper intent of his question. A deeper intent he had not at all intended.
"I guess I'm a person who always finds herself alone. No matter where I go or how many people are around me."
"Well, you're not alone now." He pointed out, though he felt that he shouldn't have needed to as the fact was quite obvious. But this most obvious of statements seemed to have a profound effect on her and if you were trying to figure out whether or not they were cuddling before you could pretty much knock that off right now because now she was quite clearly embracing him.
At that proximity and with the only light in the room coming from the TV it was tough to tell whether or not she was attractive. She certainly smelled attractive. And the part of her cheek he could feel on his own felt like an attractive cheek. Nevertheless, it was an unfamiliar smell, and an unfamiliar cheek, all belonging to the unfamiliar woman on his couch.
When she loosened the embrace and settled back into her previous position, (now the cuddle taxonomists may resume their work) he tried another question.
"How did you get here?"
Again she decided the obvious aim of the question was out of the question and she thought for a while about the answer.
"Some good decisions, some bad decisions. But mostly I got here by trying to become a star."
"What kind of star?" He could already rule out red dwarf. Her skin was slightly tan and he could see her feet stretched out to the other end of the couch.
"I'm a journalist, but not the kind who goes out and finds stories. The kind who takes any story and tells it so everyone will want to know about it because of the way it's being told and the person who is telling it. A television journalist."
He thought of Sunday School and those old Tell A Vision journalists from the scriptures. He did not think of these people for any particular reason. It was just too good of a pun to pass up. The pun must have been so good that it had been telepathically communicated to her, because she started to laugh.
"Though no one is going to see me if I can't get up for work tomorrow. I should go."
She got up and turned on the light and began to gather what must have been her things because he didn't own a purse or fur lined coat. In the light he could see that she was gorgeous. And so he did the only thing a reasonable person would do in such a situation. He asked,
"When will I get to see you again?"
"Well, obviously every weekday at 5:18 and 6:18 on channel 4. I still do the entertainment update."
How had she gotten here? Did she need a ride home?
"Do you need a ride home?"
She gave him a quizzical look
"I drove you here, remember? I've got my car."
"Oh...Do I have your phone number?" At least this would give him some options for the future.
"You should, but look I'll leave my card here, meet me at work tomorrow for lunch. Like noon or noon thirty."
She may very well have kissed him before she left. She may have decided that someone whose main job is to be on TV in the early evening doesn't have to go to bed that early, so she stayed a while longer. But I ended the story about two sentences or so ago. So It's not really up to me.
He had not known this. He turned to look at the woman (or girl; depending on whether you asked her mother or an anthropologist) sitting on his couch and leaning on him (or cuddling; depending on whether you are novice or journeyman cuddler). He did not know who she was. He had felt something against him as he watched the movie but hadn't realized it was a person until it had talked. And so he did the only thing a reasonable person would do in such a situation. He asked,
"Who are you?"
Her face bet on a trifecta of looks. First surprised, then a little offended, and then comprehension as she saw the deeper intent of his question. A deeper intent he had not at all intended.
"I guess I'm a person who always finds herself alone. No matter where I go or how many people are around me."
"Well, you're not alone now." He pointed out, though he felt that he shouldn't have needed to as the fact was quite obvious. But this most obvious of statements seemed to have a profound effect on her and if you were trying to figure out whether or not they were cuddling before you could pretty much knock that off right now because now she was quite clearly embracing him.
At that proximity and with the only light in the room coming from the TV it was tough to tell whether or not she was attractive. She certainly smelled attractive. And the part of her cheek he could feel on his own felt like an attractive cheek. Nevertheless, it was an unfamiliar smell, and an unfamiliar cheek, all belonging to the unfamiliar woman on his couch.
When she loosened the embrace and settled back into her previous position, (now the cuddle taxonomists may resume their work) he tried another question.
"How did you get here?"
Again she decided the obvious aim of the question was out of the question and she thought for a while about the answer.
"Some good decisions, some bad decisions. But mostly I got here by trying to become a star."
"What kind of star?" He could already rule out red dwarf. Her skin was slightly tan and he could see her feet stretched out to the other end of the couch.
"I'm a journalist, but not the kind who goes out and finds stories. The kind who takes any story and tells it so everyone will want to know about it because of the way it's being told and the person who is telling it. A television journalist."
He thought of Sunday School and those old Tell A Vision journalists from the scriptures. He did not think of these people for any particular reason. It was just too good of a pun to pass up. The pun must have been so good that it had been telepathically communicated to her, because she started to laugh.
"Though no one is going to see me if I can't get up for work tomorrow. I should go."
She got up and turned on the light and began to gather what must have been her things because he didn't own a purse or fur lined coat. In the light he could see that she was gorgeous. And so he did the only thing a reasonable person would do in such a situation. He asked,
"When will I get to see you again?"
"Well, obviously every weekday at 5:18 and 6:18 on channel 4. I still do the entertainment update."
How had she gotten here? Did she need a ride home?
"Do you need a ride home?"
She gave him a quizzical look
"I drove you here, remember? I've got my car."
"Oh...Do I have your phone number?" At least this would give him some options for the future.
"You should, but look I'll leave my card here, meet me at work tomorrow for lunch. Like noon or noon thirty."
She may very well have kissed him before she left. She may have decided that someone whose main job is to be on TV in the early evening doesn't have to go to bed that early, so she stayed a while longer. But I ended the story about two sentences or so ago. So It's not really up to me.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Post-Pregnancy Parlance
So, the post I wrote tonight was about new parents, and I think it is hilarious, but way too many of my friends and family who read this blog are new parents and would think it was too dark. That said, please enjoy a not-at-all-dark post written in haste about rainbows and sunshine:
The pretty pink puppy pranced and preened and pulled the purple pouch properly placed prehind the poncho.
"Why I do declare!" said the child-friendly southern character. "We shall all eat like kings tonight."
And they all returned to the cottage where they were encircled in the loving embrace of a family that totally had control over the child rearing situation and were not at all paralyzed by the fear that they do not know how to raise children and never had dreams that they had ruined their child's life that caused them to wake up screaming as often as their infant did. (whoops some of it snuck right in there).
The pretty pink puppy pranced and preened and pulled the purple pouch properly placed prehind the poncho.
"Why I do declare!" said the child-friendly southern character. "We shall all eat like kings tonight."
And they all returned to the cottage where they were encircled in the loving embrace of a family that totally had control over the child rearing situation and were not at all paralyzed by the fear that they do not know how to raise children and never had dreams that they had ruined their child's life that caused them to wake up screaming as often as their infant did. (whoops some of it snuck right in there).
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