Bees And Gasoline

When I was young and lived in rural Virginia, USA, we would rid the outside of our house of paper wasp nests using gasoline, tossed at the nest. A pretty dodgy activity that.

Ever seen a paper wasp falling to the ground, wings burned by the gasoline? Ever seen one that you missed, watching his brother, cousin, whatever, falling to the ground? Very pissed off, to say the least. The ones that you missed could still fly.

These folks are somewhat more adventurous. Obviously this was the weekend, when the EPA was not on duty patrolling the neighbourhood.

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Be Courteous At The Cinema

I went to the movie the other night. I sat in an aisle seat as I usually do because it feels a little roomier (my long legs need help). Just as the feature was about to start a blonde from the center of the row got up and started to work her way out.

Excuse me, sorry, oops, excuse me, pardon me, gotta hurry, oops, excuse me.

By the time she got to me I was trying to look around her and I was a little impatient so I said

Couldn't you have done this a little earlier?

"No!!" she said in a loud whisper,

The TURN OFF YOUR CELL PHONE PLEASE message just flashed up on the screen, and mine is in the car.

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1984, Voluntarily

In George Orwell's novel 1984, written in 1949, long before personal computers or the Internet were even a dream, all citizens were subject to constant surveillance by Big Brother. Presumably, this activity wasn't preferred by the citizens.

Now we see that we may be becoming our own Big Brother. From worm of oblivion: Nerd surveillance, we see news that MIT students are voluntarily becoming citizens of Orwell's fictional nation of Oceania.

I always wondered if Oceania had huge banks of super-computers doing the monitoring. No way that you could have each citizen being monitored by a citizen - who watches the watchers?

As soon as MySpace gets a piece of this, the high schools will be full of it. Imagine - the ability to hide from your parents or teachers, but let all your buds know where you are.

We have met the enemy, and he is us.

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Change From Within

A Buddhist walks into a bar and orders a beer. The bartender pours him one saying, "That'll be $3.50."

The Buddhist hands him a ten and waits. And waits.

After a while, the Buddhist asks: "Hey, where's my change?"

The bartender replies: "Change must come from within."

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If YOU Had The Choice?

While walking down the street one day, Hillary Clinton is tragically hit by a truck and killed. Her soul arrives in Heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.

"Welcome to Heaven," says St. Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we're not sure what to do with you."

"No problem, just let me in," says Hillary.

"Well, I'd like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we'll do is have you spend one day in Hell and one in Heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity."

"There's no need! I want to be in Heaven," says Hillary.

"I'm sorry, but we have our rules."

And with that, St. Peter escorts her to the elevator, the doors open, and she rides the elevator down, down, down. When the doors open again, the senator finds herself in the middle of a beautiful green golf course. In the distance is a club, and standing in front of it are all her friends and other politicians who had worked with her.

Everyone is very happy and in formal dress. They run to greet her, and they reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people. They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar.

Also present is the Devil, who is a very friendly guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that, before the senator realizes it, it is time to go. Everyone gives her a big hug and waves while the elevator rises. The elevator goes up, up, up, and the door reopens in Heaven where St. Peter is waiting for her.

So 24 hours pass with the senator joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before she realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by, and St. Peter returns.

"Well, you've spent a day in Hell and another in Heaven. Now, you must choose where you want to spend eternity."

She reflects for a minute and then answers, "Well, I would never would have thought it, I mean Heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better satisfied in Hell."

So Saint Peter escorts her to the elevator, and down, down, down she goes into Hell. Now, the doors of the elevator open, and she is in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. She sees all her friends dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags. And it's hot, hot, hot, and the odor is just horrible.

Sweltering hot. Hot and miserable. The Devil comes over to her and smoothly lays his arm around her shoulder.

"I don't understand," stammers the senator. "The day before I was here, and there was a golf course and club, and we ate lobster and caviar and danced and had a great time. Now all there is is a wasteland full of garbage, and my friends look miserable."

The Devil looks at her, smiles, and says, "Yesterday we were campaigning. Today you voted for us."

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Of Cell Phones And Convenience, And Missed Sightseeing Opportunities

When I was in grade school, in the middle of the previous century, I lived in rural Virginia, USA. Virginia is in the middle of the east coast, and having been part of (what we Americans call it) the "Revolutionary War", and a subsequent internal war (the American "Civil War"), is steeped in historical significance.

As an aside, I will note that, to folks of European or Asian background, the History of the USA is not so significant at all. But when you live in rural Virginia, with very few recreational opportunities, sightseeing at "historical" locations was a big thing, in those days.

So one summer, my parents got the idea that we would go visit Gettysburg Pennsylvania, which was a major Civil War attraction north of us, and a few long hours of driving too. And we would meet up with some cousins of ours, who lived about halfway between us and Gettysburg. And the agreement was that we would drive to Gettysburg in the early morning, and they would start from their house later, and we would meet in a central location in Gettysburg, at a certain time.

So we got up very early in the morning, and drove the long (3 or 4 hours I would guess) trip to Gettysburg, and had a couple hours of sightseeing by ourselves, but saved the fun stuff for when our cousins were able to enjoy it with us.

And at the appointed time, we went to the meeting place, and waited. And no cousins.

So not to make this story drag on, we found later that the appointed meeting place actually existed in two places in the town. We, of course, were at one clone, and our cousins at the other. And both families learned of the mistake from Gettysburg natives, and both families spent some time driving from one meeting place to the other. And neither family did any fun sightseeing that day.

Now those of you reading this tale, and maybe being of the age that I was at that time (or even having kids of that age) will say to me

So why didn't one of you call the other?

and the answer would be

Actually, both families spent some time using the phone.

However, in our cases, we were each using public phones, and calling the others home phone. Of course, neither family was at home, they were simply elsewhere in Gettysburg, in another phone booth.

And that's the bottom line. The closest thing to a cell phone, in those days was a fictional shoe phone, carried by a fictional spy (played by a now dead American actor), Max Smart.

In most of the houses where we lived, there was a phone in each house. Stuck to the wall, or sitting on a table attached to a wire. And it was that phone that was ringing, as we were driving around Gettysburg looking for our cousins (and no, we didn't have answering machines either).

Cell phone? If you had told one of us kids then that we would grow up and have a phone that we could carry everywhere in our pocket, and converse with anybody else carrying another phone, while we shopped or ate, we would have stared at you, and wondered

What is this guy smoking?

Of course, the other guy has to be carrying his phone too. And that is the next half of this tale.

My mum, having grown up in an era before mine, didn't even use a phone when she was our age. In her time, if any nearby neighbour had a phone, that was enough.

So my mum has a phone at home (actually several, some of which I installed when I lived there, in various places in the house). And she has a cell phone, on the charger in her bedroom. But when she goes out to visit friends, there the cell phone stays, on the charger in her bedroom.

And that's the problem. A cell phone is all about convenience. It's not convenient, when you leave it sitting in your bedroom.

And now we note that, one day, a museum might be the only place where you would see a public (pay) phone.

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This Could Only Be A Mac

This is so cute. Not.


Kitten On The Keys

Give your kitty a ball of string, or a catnip mouse, to play with. Not a computer mouse / what the mouse attaches to.

>> More on Cats and Apple Computers. Part of the ongoing debate: Should humans have to pass an intelligence test, before being allowed to own a computer?

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Common Ground

A U.S. Marine squad was marching north of Faluijiah when they came upon an Iraqi terrorist, badly injured and unconscious.

On the opposite side of the road was an American Marine in a similar but less serious state.

The Marine was conscious and alert and as first aid was given to both men, the squad leader asked the injured Marine what had happened.

The Marine reported, "I was heavily armed and moving north along the highway here, and coming south was a heavily armed insurgent. We saw each other and both took cover in the ditches along the road.

"I yelled to him that Saddam Hussein is a miserable, lowlife scum bag, and he yelled back that Ted Kennedy is a good-for-nothing, fat,left wing liberal drunk."

"So I said that Osama Bin Ladin dresses and acts like a frigid, mean-spirited lesbian! He retaliated by yelling, "Oh yeah? Well, so does Hillary Clinton!"

"And, there we were, in the middle of the road, shaking hands, when a truck hit us."

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