Game Day Shirt

This was on a really dumb t-shirt site and I would never order it. Though, when I am with sports people, I ought to have it. Not to be snarky, just to show I care--even if I don't have a clue what's going on.

Spring Is On My Dining Table

A Movement

Inspired by this blog posting: http://jamfaced.blogspot.com/2006/02/militant-tea-drinker.html sent by a workmate, I decided there needs to be such a thing as a Jam & Tea Militia: A loose, but focused organization based on the pursuit of buttery carbs and the strong, caffeinated beverages that accompany them.

The yet-to-be-commissioned uniform is to have sufficient pocket storage space for crisp white napkins and requisite sugar packets. Fabric will be flexible, durable, and crumb-resistant for easy brush-off.

That's all I've got for now. Will need to do some scouting and get reports in from the front. I am not sure what 'enemy territory' is comprised of. Perhaps the diet bar aisle in the grocery store.

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The artist of the above picture I think will be an honoree member, perhaps with 'saint' status, allowing a certain amount of veneration. Check out the devotion:

http://parisbreakfasts.blogspot.com/2007/12/more-croissants.html

note to Jess: Tartine?

Sometimes It's Like That

I'm calling this screenshot from The Angry Red Planet (badmovies.org)The Sci-Fi Scream. It would be a perfect mimic of the painting if only she had her hands clapped to her cheeks.

American Appeal

mockery, music, Dave Foley. too much goodness:

Family & Friends

The most tender place in my heart is for strangers; I know it's unkind but my own blood is much too dangerous.

Neko Case, Fox Confessor Brings the Flood

Umberto Boccioni, Charge of the Lancers

Those who are enjoying something, or suffering something together, are companions. Those who enjoy or suffer one another, are not. Do you not know how bashful friendship is? Friends—comrades—do not look at each other. Friendship would be ashamed…

CS Lewis, That Hideous Strength

Gastronomic Notions

Everything I eat has been proven by some doctor or other to be a deadly poison, and everything I don’t eat has been proven to be indispensable to life…But I go marching on.

G.B. Shaw

Bodies of Thought

We speak of the dog with the sore foot or the bird with the broken wing. But the dog does not think of itself in those terms, or the bird. To the dog, when it tries to walk, there is simply , I am in pain, to the bird, when it launches itself into flight, simply I cannot.

With us it seems to be different. The fact that such common locutions as "my leg," "my eye," "my brain," and even "my body" exist suggests that we believe there is some non-material, perhaps fictive, entity that stands in the relation of possessor to possessed to the body's "parts" and even to the whole body. Or else the existence of such locutions shows that language cannot get purchase, cannot get going, until it has split up the unity of experience.

Diary of a Very Bad Year, J.M. Coetzee

image and other interesting-ness can be purchased here: reikoshimizu.etsy.com

To Clarify

A bit ago I wrote about my mental anguish when microwaves are abandoned with remaining time blinking away unheeded and uncared for. I just want to clarify that, while the gears and cogs that keep the logical portion of my brain functioning grind briefly to a halt at these occurances, I would NEVER go so far as this:

More fun here: http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/

Back to Bizzaro

Who better than the British to lighten a mood with their 'interesting' food and excellent adverts.

Weekends Are Bad

I was a spectator of this spectacle on Saturday:

For some live action go here: http://videos.oregonlive.com/oregonlive/2008/03/urban_iditarod_1.html

Today, the world is unusually bland here in my office world. I keep having disturbing flashbacks to this movie:

The Bothersome Man. I could blog on for ages about this one. If I was the blogging sort. I prefer a barstool, however, when holding forth on the intentionality of a film and, more entertainingly, my own personal reactions/reflections.