Low-Tech Support

I’ve never officially worked tech support, but I’ve been the unofficial techie in a lot of places where I’ve worked. And I’ve fielded my share of frantic late-night computer questions from my parents.

All of which means that I spent far too much time watching and rewatching this video and laughing.

Refrigerator Bestiary

I really have no excuse for not mentioning this sooner, but my sister Mars is brilliant!

Every day during January, she made a refrigerator magnet of a different organism as part of Fun-A-Day, an annual event sponsored by Artclash, a Philadelphia artists’ collective. Participants do a different creative project every day for a month and then exhibit the fruits of their labors at the collective’s gallery space.

To the left, you can see a smaller version of some of my favorites including the paramecium, the okapi and the luna moth (complete with googly eye eyespots).

And here are some links to photos of the rest of the project, which Mars is calling The Felt Ark:

• Paramecium, cardinal, okapi, luna moth (large version) {click}
• Man of war fish (behind bouclé tentacles), okapi, magpie {click}
• Wooly mammoth, hammerhead shark, T. rex, E. coli {click}
• Giant squid (with a bit of tapeworm above), red-winged blackbird, hickory horned devil (aka royal walnut moth) caterpillar, Komodo dragon {click}
• Great horned owl, octopus, black-eyed Susan, star-nosed mole {click}
• Goldfish, polar bear, red-headed woodpecker {click}
• Fruit bat, fly agaric mushroom, blue-footed booby {click}
• Stinkhorn fungus, narwhal, slake moth (okay, so this last one’s fictional) {click}
• House cat, Portuguese man of war {click}
• The entire Ark {click}

And, as if that weren’t enough, Mars gave all her siblings magnets as Christmas presents. My fridge now sports a great horned owl, an octopus and a giant squid alongside the Roquefort cheese magnet I bought in France and the durian and rambutan magnets from a Vietnamese grocery in New York.

Update:

None of the above-linked pictures give you a really good view of the tapeworm magnet, but I found an old picture Mars sent me and uploaded it. You can view it here.

Unlawful Accommodation of Donkeys Act 1837

I’m not entirely sure what to make of this Irish newspaper article my sister sent me. Since I’m too flabbergasted to paraphrase, here’s the opening sentence:

A man who was found dressed in latex and handcuffs brought a donkey to his room in a Galway city centre hotel, because he was advised “to get out and meet people,” the local court heard last week.

The alleged perpetrator was charged with, among other things, cruelty to animals, lewd behavior and violation of the above-mentioned Unlawful Accommodation of Donkeys Act.

I can’t help remembering an incident that happened when I was in college. One of the fraternities was brought up on disciplinary charges after a particularly raucous party. The friend from whom I heard the story never knew what actually happened, just that the frat members’ punishment included attending sensitivity training workshops run by the Women’s Center and the ASPCA.

Behind Door #18: I’m Probably Going to Hell…

…for linking to this.

Most definitely not work safe.

My only quibble: they broke one of the cardinal rules of country songwriting. They put the joke in the chorus, which means it gets less funny each time you hear it.

Only slightly though

Behind Door #14: O Come, All Ye Cephalopods

I was going to wait until tomorrow to remind everyone about the upcoming Cephalopodmas holiday, but then I thought that it really made more sense to mention it eight days in advance instead of seven.

I don’t know about you, but I’ll be celebrating all things tentacular with my cephalopod-crazed siblings. We’ll be eating spaetzle and drinking hefeweizen at Ludwig’s Garten (affectionately known as Mad King Ludwig’s) in Philadelphia.

Wishing you merry molluscs!

P.S. What do you mean “Cephalopodmas” is not in the spell-checker?!

Behind Door #9: Burn, Billy, Burn

One of my favorite Swedish Christmas traditions was picked up by the AP this year. Every year the city of Gävle has put up an enormous straw goat on the town square. (You can find smaller versions decorating Swedish homes.)

The actual display of the goat—billed as the world’s biggest—is not the interesting part, though. What makes it my favorite tradition is that in twenty-two of the forty years they’ve put up a Christmas goat, someone’s managed to destroy it.

Most years someone merely burns the goat, but it’s also been run over by a car or been smashed to bits. Some of the vandals have had a particular flair for the dramatic. For instance, according to the article:

The 2005 vandals — who witnesses said were dressed up as Santa Claus and the Gingerbread Man — remain at large. The pair fired flaming arrows at the goat, reducing it to its steel skeleton.

The  city’s Christmas Web site gives a complete, year-by-year accounting of the goat’s fate.

This year city officals claim that the goat has burned for the last time. They’ve impregnated the straw with some sort of space-age flame retardant and put up two twenty-four hour Web cams (1, 2) so the eyes of the world can keep watch.

I can’t help feeling they’ve missed the point. The world’s largest goat rates a giant “meh.” The world’s largest goat that happens to get destroyed in some amusing ways, well, that’s something I’ll even blog about. I mean, aren’t goats meant to be sacrificed?

So, I’ll go on checking the Web cams, but I’ll be waiting to see the goat in flames.

Behind Door #8: The War on Krampus

My sister Mars—source of all things Krampus-y sent me this link to a Reuters story about some Austrian scrooges trying to ban Krampus because he scares children.

Come on, now. Krampus only switches the naughty. The good boys and girls have nothing to worry about.

The headline reads “Santa’s Evil Sidekick? Who knew?” But the URL is even funnier: “odd_austria_christmas_devil1.”

If I didn’t have to clean my house in preparation for the arrival of house guests I’d be all over making “Stop the War on Krampus” buttons for people to post on their blogs.

Behind Door #5: Curses Foiled Again

Thanks to the always entertaining and enlightening crew at Language Log for pointing me to this article on Quebecois curse words in today’s Washington Post. Apparently when French Canadians feel the need to swear, they most often resort to religious paraphernalia. Chalices, tabernacles and wafers all figure prominently.

It’s funny how another culture’s epithets can sound innocent or even cutesy to foreign ears. Like Quebecois cursing, Swedish cursing also takes a decidedly religious bent — although Swedes are more likely to invoke the dark side.

Shame, the devil! Devilish devil in hell! Satan!

When I first managed to translate these common Swedish swear words, all I could think was that they sounded vaguely Amish.

Finally, a Ribbon Campaign I Can Get Behind

As aware as I am, somehow news of the plight of the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus had never reached me. Clearly, cephalopodophiles everywhere need to band together to bring the world’s attention to this vanishing species. Click on the (tentacled) pink ribbon to find out more about the cause.