Nathaniel Eliot

It's probably telling that my most famous close relative is listed with sexual orientation as "matter of dispute", and that my musical tastes have odd correlations with those of teenage Japanese girls. I'm just not sure what it's telling, and with results like that I'm mildly concerned who it's telling.

I've also just been hit by the LJ salmon chatbot, which is probably the closest thing to art that griefers have yet accomplished. Yay, internet: bringing the weird, yet again.

How is it that my mom, a self-professed Aunt Tilly, delivers the best web-crack this week? Get working, Internets!

I think one of my neologisms just came around full circle. I find plenty of reference to "blogjam", but none earlier than mine . . .

Neat! Completely useless and mildly frivolous, but amusing anyway. To celebrate, here's some more frivolity:

patternal: (adj) of or relating to patterns created by the subject.

YOU FOOLS! SOON, MY CREATION WILL BE FINISHED! THEN YOU'LL ALL SEE!!!!!

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This is a test of the Emergency Mad Science Broadcast System. The bloggers of your area, in voluntary cooperation with federal, state and local authorities, have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an epiphany. If this had been actual Mad Science, the Attention Signal you just heard would have been followed by officious ranting, news of your impending doom, or instructions on how to surrender.

temujin9 serves the greater LiveJournal metropolitan area. This concludes this test of the Emergency Mad Science Broadcast System.

Thanks for madpiratebippy for this delightfully surreal tidbit:
Says more about the generation gap (and says it more succinctly) than I could ever hope to . . .

Lego. Gatling. Gun.

Evil Stevie, you bring me the greatest web crack.

# 9.3.5. Favourite Drink
#
# The Favourite Drink attribute type specifies the favourite drink of
# an object (or person).
#
# favouriteDrink ATTRIBUTE
# WITH ATTRIBUTE-SYNTAX
# caseIgnoreStringSyntax
# (SIZE (1 .. ub-favourite-drink))
# ::= {pilotAttributeType 5}
#
attributetype ( 0.9.2342.19200300.100.1.5
NAME ( 'drink' 'favouriteDrink' )
DESC 'RFC1274: favorite drink'
EQUALITY caseIgnoreMatch
SUBSTR caseIgnoreSubstringsMatch
SYNTAX 1.3.6.1.4.1.1466.115.121.1.15{256} )

RFC1274: Cosine and Internet X.500 schema (/etc/ldap/schema/cosine.schema)

I'm not tickled by the mere fact that it's in there; LDAP covers pretty wide ground. It's that it's the third active thing defined in a long list, behind two rather generic header types that should come first for readability's sake.

Okay, now the British are just trolling us (and of course, by us, I mean U.S., of course):

"We need to be very clear about this. On the streets of London, there is no such thing as a 'war on terror', just as there can be no such thing as a 'war on drugs'.

"The fight against terrorism on the streets of Britain is not a war. It is the prevention of crime, the enforcement of our laws and the winning of justice for those damaged by their infringement."
Sir Ken Macdonald

Some things that float out of my head have no practical use whatsoever. For instance, the annoying lyrics of Beyonce's Irreplaceable ("to the left, to the left") have encouraged a strange sort of brain-remix, where I hear Bill Hicks saying "Back, and . . . " just beforehand.

Hilarious, I tell you.

Anybody who wants that one can have it, free of charge or attribution. Please: take it away before I waste more time on it.

A "Donnie Darko" remix of "Shut Up" by Black Eyed Peas: Chut up, just chut up!

Because I lack the musicial skill to do it, and the good taste to keep quiet.

Nudity!

surprisal bits: base-2 logarithm of the inverse of an event's probability; roughly, a measure of how surprising that event is. A coin toss is only good for one bit of surprisal; a six-sided die gives you two and a half.

Ever wonder what a spring made out of ground beef looks like?

No, me neither. But now you know, and knowing is half the battle. (The other half is keeping your suspension system from being eaten by scavengers, apparently.)

Apparently, "W" and I were born in the same town: New Haven, CT. Which means that I can one day aspire to being an Authentic Texan^TM like him, instead of the carpetbagger Yankee that I am today . . .

Some gems I found in my Sent box on OKCupid:

I submit to you that violent overthrow has three major drawbacks:

1) They have guns.
2) They have *lots* *more* guns than we do.
3) Getting shot sucks.

Whereas subversion has the following advantages:
1) We have brains.
2) We have *lots* *more* brains than them.
3) Sabotage only requires a wooden shoe.

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Chosen one? Like in a "Neo, when the time comes, you won't have to dodge bullets" way, or in a "Picachu, I choose you!" way?

Because bullet time is fun, and all, but I don't want to be signing up for a long-term lease on a red and white ball. I'd never get all my GURPS books in there.

Actually, come to think of it, very few chosen ones had a good life. Anakin got far too close a shave and a serious sunburn thanks to his mentor. Neo had to spend all night running Norton to clean out the MR_SMITH virus, and ultimately blew his eyes out. Frodo had to go to the Old Elves Nursing Home after hitchiking across Mordor. Jesus got tacked to a tree.

So is it cool if I message you *without* being the chosen one? Cause seriously, that looks like a bit too much work.

Reality is better than fiction, because fiction must be plausible.

America is falling behind in the field of mad science! We must close the gap, quickly. I want helicoptors that run on bottled cow farts, dammit!

Edit: Apparently, the Illuminati have forced him to recant.

The corner of Congress and Oltorf is a common stamping ground for religeous proselytizers, and I often pass them on my way to Ruta Maya. So when one of the ladies handed me a flyer, I wasn't suprised to find it was for a local church.

"Shouldn't doing God's work entail more than standing on a corner with a bullhorn?" I shouted, but my words went unnoticed.

It wasn't until this morning, as I pulled into work, that I looked closely at the flyer. In the background, there is an image of a red fanged beast looming out of the darkness.

A very familiar red fanged beast:


I feel much better knowing that one of the possibilities for the afterlife is D&D. There's an afterlife I could handle, though I hope they use 3rd edition rules . . .

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Edit: Since everybody insisted, I've scanned the flyer and posted it. Two copywrongs don't make a copyright, but what the hell . . .

I keep on looking for a funny way to preface this story, but the main character brings the funny by herself. Months ago, she got her (former) friend fired by abusing his employee card to make large amounts of photocopies. A lot of bad blood ensued, which I ignored because I wasn't involved.

I was tooling along LJ quite innocently, cleaning my friends list of people I no longer read, and posting about my X-Day party. Suddenly, I was accosted by the aggrieved party:

( "Why do you like my enemy?" )
While I was considering my reply, she noticed she hadn't made the cut:
( "OMGWTFBBQ! You stopped reading my journal!" )
( "So? It's none of your business." )
( "You took their side! How dare you, after all we shared!" )
( "Lady, you're crazy." ) ( "Extra points for trying to hide it so poorly." )
( "I'LL GET YOU FIRED! YOU'RE MY ENEMY, BECAUSE YOU READ HIS JOURNAL! LALALALA, I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!!" )
My response? I'm publishing it here, since she said she wasn't going to listen anyway.

Dear Crazy Bitch:

The only way you could get me fired is if I loaned you my employee card. Threatening me, however, is a good way to get mocked publically.

You're an overdramatic, self-absorbed little twit with the superpower of flying to conclusions. You're twice my age (or you looked it, the one time we met), less mature than my seven-year old (he knows to ask, not just assume), and you call me immature? As ICEKNIFE (a learned SubGenius philosopher) once said:

"If you're falsely accused of the same thing three times, THAT'S A FREEBEE."

Welcome to infamy. Have a nice day.

I'm eagerly awaiting her response. I could use a laugh.

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PS, to Kari: Sorry for comparing her to you. You at least had an understandable motive.