Well judging by the clock on the oven, it's only 11:30 PM but I can tell it's going to be a long night. Insomnia has reared its ugly, red-eyed, droopy-lidded visage again. I'm never sure why exactly I get it: sometimes it's stress but frankly I haven't had much to be stressed about. Sure, I'm getting overly worked up about the possibility of being swallowed whole by a Great White off the coast of Maui but even for my bad luck that's still a long shot.
Maybe it's just boredom. Now, I'm firmly in the Rincewind school of boredom: it's rare and should be treasured as such. Truth to tell though, I haven't had this long of a stress-free run in, well, let's just say I had hair the last time this happened. Long, wavy chestnut locks past my shoulders. Hey, it was the late eighties. Gimmee a break.
September is of course looming and that usually means things generally pick up. I'm taking yoga classes, there's the trip, several luncheon arrangements, the play season begins again and of course there's always the gym. My goal of having a stomach that is shadowed by a chest by running 20k a week may actually happen before the trip! The extensive re-constructive surgery of my knees is well worth the effort.
That being said, it must be obvious that I actually have little to report. Long-weekends are always my "house chores" occasions where I do a top-to-bottom (okay, it's an apartment, front to back) scrub of the ol' Roost. I really should put that off until tomorrow: neighbors object to moving furniture and vacuuming at 2AM.
On the Geekier side: There are rumours that Joss Whedon will be holding a contest. He will be taking submissions from wanna-be villains: 3 minute videos for applicants to the Evil League of Evil. I, of course, will be making my humble contribution. No idea what I could possibly win, but what the hell. I'm bored and I'm buying a video camera for the trip. And no, I will not be appearing as myself: I'm more along the lines of "The Annoying Avengers" or similar. Besides, doesn't everyone want to be a villain?
I'd keep typing until I fell asleep but the carpal is acting up again....
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
Well, Something had to Give...
Okay the last post? That one where I seeming lost what remained of my marbles? Yup, no apologies. My guess is there's going to be more in a similar vein, although I'll give this whole "editing" concept a go before I hit the ol' "publish" button.
In the meantime, I got me a bushel of T-shirts from TShirt Bordello. Besides having the much-coveted Initech logo, they are one of the few online shirt vendors that offer shirts in colours other than black. Hey, I'm all for black. It's a classic. But once in a while I'm feeling blue/seeing red/green with envy/magenta with, um, mag...ne...tis...im. Or something.
Anyway, next rant will be my proof that Intelligent Design is a crock even if it is true. And yes, there will be an analogy with video games.
In the meantime, I got me a bushel of T-shirts from TShirt Bordello. Besides having the much-coveted Initech logo, they are one of the few online shirt vendors that offer shirts in colours other than black. Hey, I'm all for black. It's a classic. But once in a while I'm feeling blue/seeing red/green with envy/magenta with, um, mag...ne...tis...im. Or something.
Anyway, next rant will be my proof that Intelligent Design is a crock even if it is true. And yes, there will be an analogy with video games.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Moby's World Perspective Part 1: Rating Females, the 4 Tier System
I really shouldn't be typing this as my wrists are bound so I don't feel sharp pains up and down my forearms but since I can't use the computer I'm bored. There's only so much grocery shopping, house cleaning, laundry, er, laundering and sundry chores I can do in a day.
A long while back I promised I'd explain my own rating system for the female side of the species. So here we go, Moby's World: Rating the Human Female (I'm so gonna lose my female readership over this. Sorry, The German.)
Anyways...
Since cavemen could count on their fingers, human males have been rating women on a scale of 1 to 10. "Oggette have sexy sticky-outie brow ridge and soft, luxurious facial hair. I give her 8". Now after millennia of this inaccurate, subjective system I'm here to propose a new system based on more modern pop-psychology and pseudo science (you know, those "institutes" that develop things like a better facial creme or hair care products). The Tier System!
Now if you take the numbers from 1 to 10, you'll note that if you start at the top with 10, move down a level using 8 and 9, move down another level with 5, 6 and 7 and use the lowest level for the remain 1 to 4, you have a pyramid. Okay, a triangle. I'd provide a diagram but my hands are bound, making the use of a mouse impossible.
So there we have 4 tiers: from top to bottom, Tier 1 (10), Tier 2 (8-9), Tier 3 (5-7), and Tier 4(1-4) plus a handy-dandy translation from the old, outdated and ineffective method to our new, scintillating, wonder-inducing tier system.
Now I hear you asking (as you report me to the local Women's Rights activist community) "what's the big deal? That triangle is simple a mathematical/geometric known behavior. Have you been taking too many pain-killers?" Therein lies the genius! Each tier represents not only a physical rating (considering only the topographical features of the female form) but contains, with a genius of simplicity, a sociological placement as well!
Every observer of the female form must know that women of the approximate physical attraction factor group together: the babes hang with babes, the plain janes stick to their own etc. Using that fact a single individual can be placed in a strictly subjective tier, but identifying the tiers' of their social peers also gives a great deal of information about an individual!
Let us take for example a group of three women. Using our original scale, Alice is a 6, Betty is an 8 and Carol is a 7. These of course are based simply on each individual without the social context: a strictly topographical assessment. Using our system, Alice and Carol are Tier 3 but Betty is a Tier 2. Let us now examine some possible scenarios and implications that are hinted at by the new system.
Now these three women are not far separated using either scale, so at first glance, there should be no surprise they are hanging around together. Maybe they are childhood friends or co-workers. As usual in any social experiment, there are always extraneous factors that disprove the theories. In the spirit of the state of science under the current Presidency, let's ignore the facts in favour of proving our theories!
Since most women group with others in their own "attractiveness level", why is Betty hanging with Alice and Carol? One possibility is that Betty has a slight self-confidence issue, not thinking herself quite as attractive as the world would see her. She considers herself a "T3" despite the fact she on a physical level a "T2". On the other hand, it's possible (though slightly less so) that Alice and Carol see themselves as Tier 2s, and they have accepted Betty (or insinuated themselves) as friends. But the most likely scenario is that both of the above are true: Betty is a little self-depreciating; Alice and Carol think petty well of themselves. So what does this tell us?
Not much except when you consider the following: women will consider only those males that are as attractive as they see themselves to be date-able! Now I hear you, what about the babes with the douche bags? With the money bags? Two factors come into play here: what the woman defines as "attractive" and how attractive the males see themselves, effectively meaning there is a Tier system for guys as well! However, it should be quite obvious that the placement criteria for each sex differs radically. At the heart of course is physical attractiveness, but self-confidence (even if unwarranted) plays a role: much more in the rating of men than of women.
How do we apply this to the real world? (Yes, I still have a tenuous connection to the real world). First, as a male, know your physical placement in the tier system. Using myself as a guinea-pig, I have been on the high-end of tier 4 for a while (say a 4 or 5), therefore from an initial-attraction perspective, I was a potential mate for those women who perceive themselves in tier 4. Now this does include some women who are actually in tier 3 but have self-perception issues and/or psychosis of one form or another (or both). As I've improved my physique, got rid of the glasses, reduced my hunch and gained a little self confidence, I can classify myself as low to mid Tier 3 (a 6 or thereabouts). This has shown itself as recently Tier 3 women looking twice at me and not for the purposes of remembering my face so they can pick me out of a line-up.
But the most significant implication easily (or conveniently) explains why beautiful women date douche-bags.
You do have to give them credit, douche-bags in general have good dress sense (while lacking all other kinds) which can mask physical imperfections. They also tend to keep themselves quite fit (as I see them all the time in the gym, I must assume that's pretty much all they do) so physically they can raise themselves at least a full tier on physical attractiveness alone. The clincher of course is that they see themselves as studly paragons of masculinity: they think they are gorgeous and completely desirable to the opposite sex and therefore are perceived to be so by most women (not all, thankfully). By fooling themselves, they can therefore fool others.
And that's why women are attracted to douche-bags! While time and experience (long-time exposure) with individual specimens may completely change their minds, it's that initial attraction of like-tiered (in both self- and others- perception) that gets them the girls.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'll have to go buy some polo-style shirts and pop the collars (at least wearing three at a time, all collars popped). And buy six litres of Axe body spray. And get drunk(er).
A long while back I promised I'd explain my own rating system for the female side of the species. So here we go, Moby's World: Rating the Human Female (I'm so gonna lose my female readership over this. Sorry, The German.)
Anyways...
Since cavemen could count on their fingers, human males have been rating women on a scale of 1 to 10. "Oggette have sexy sticky-outie brow ridge and soft, luxurious facial hair. I give her 8". Now after millennia of this inaccurate, subjective system I'm here to propose a new system based on more modern pop-psychology and pseudo science (you know, those "institutes" that develop things like a better facial creme or hair care products). The Tier System!
Now if you take the numbers from 1 to 10, you'll note that if you start at the top with 10, move down a level using 8 and 9, move down another level with 5, 6 and 7 and use the lowest level for the remain 1 to 4, you have a pyramid. Okay, a triangle. I'd provide a diagram but my hands are bound, making the use of a mouse impossible.
So there we have 4 tiers: from top to bottom, Tier 1 (10), Tier 2 (8-9), Tier 3 (5-7), and Tier 4(1-4) plus a handy-dandy translation from the old, outdated and ineffective method to our new, scintillating, wonder-inducing tier system.
Now I hear you asking (as you report me to the local Women's Rights activist community) "what's the big deal? That triangle is simple a mathematical/geometric known behavior. Have you been taking too many pain-killers?" Therein lies the genius! Each tier represents not only a physical rating (considering only the topographical features of the female form) but contains, with a genius of simplicity, a sociological placement as well!
Every observer of the female form must know that women of the approximate physical attraction factor group together: the babes hang with babes, the plain janes stick to their own etc. Using that fact a single individual can be placed in a strictly subjective tier, but identifying the tiers' of their social peers also gives a great deal of information about an individual!
Let us take for example a group of three women. Using our original scale, Alice is a 6, Betty is an 8 and Carol is a 7. These of course are based simply on each individual without the social context: a strictly topographical assessment. Using our system, Alice and Carol are Tier 3 but Betty is a Tier 2. Let us now examine some possible scenarios and implications that are hinted at by the new system.
Now these three women are not far separated using either scale, so at first glance, there should be no surprise they are hanging around together. Maybe they are childhood friends or co-workers. As usual in any social experiment, there are always extraneous factors that disprove the theories. In the spirit of the state of science under the current Presidency, let's ignore the facts in favour of proving our theories!
Since most women group with others in their own "attractiveness level", why is Betty hanging with Alice and Carol? One possibility is that Betty has a slight self-confidence issue, not thinking herself quite as attractive as the world would see her. She considers herself a "T3" despite the fact she on a physical level a "T2". On the other hand, it's possible (though slightly less so) that Alice and Carol see themselves as Tier 2s, and they have accepted Betty (or insinuated themselves) as friends. But the most likely scenario is that both of the above are true: Betty is a little self-depreciating; Alice and Carol think petty well of themselves. So what does this tell us?
Not much except when you consider the following: women will consider only those males that are as attractive as they see themselves to be date-able! Now I hear you, what about the babes with the douche bags? With the money bags? Two factors come into play here: what the woman defines as "attractive" and how attractive the males see themselves, effectively meaning there is a Tier system for guys as well! However, it should be quite obvious that the placement criteria for each sex differs radically. At the heart of course is physical attractiveness, but self-confidence (even if unwarranted) plays a role: much more in the rating of men than of women.
How do we apply this to the real world? (Yes, I still have a tenuous connection to the real world). First, as a male, know your physical placement in the tier system. Using myself as a guinea-pig, I have been on the high-end of tier 4 for a while (say a 4 or 5), therefore from an initial-attraction perspective, I was a potential mate for those women who perceive themselves in tier 4. Now this does include some women who are actually in tier 3 but have self-perception issues and/or psychosis of one form or another (or both). As I've improved my physique, got rid of the glasses, reduced my hunch and gained a little self confidence, I can classify myself as low to mid Tier 3 (a 6 or thereabouts). This has shown itself as recently Tier 3 women looking twice at me and not for the purposes of remembering my face so they can pick me out of a line-up.
But the most significant implication easily (or conveniently) explains why beautiful women date douche-bags.
You do have to give them credit, douche-bags in general have good dress sense (while lacking all other kinds) which can mask physical imperfections. They also tend to keep themselves quite fit (as I see them all the time in the gym, I must assume that's pretty much all they do) so physically they can raise themselves at least a full tier on physical attractiveness alone. The clincher of course is that they see themselves as studly paragons of masculinity: they think they are gorgeous and completely desirable to the opposite sex and therefore are perceived to be so by most women (not all, thankfully). By fooling themselves, they can therefore fool others.
And that's why women are attracted to douche-bags! While time and experience (long-time exposure) with individual specimens may completely change their minds, it's that initial attraction of like-tiered (in both self- and others- perception) that gets them the girls.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'll have to go buy some polo-style shirts and pop the collars (at least wearing three at a time, all collars popped). And buy six litres of Axe body spray. And get drunk(er).
Thursday, August 21, 2008
At the Seams
Well any denial I was experiencing with the impending "Number of Doom" (40) has been cleared well away. I broke down and bought some wrist braces to counteract what has to be the dreaded Carpal Tunnel Syndrome.
A couple of weeks ago I noticed I was getting klutzy. Okay, klutzier. I would drop things like pens, notebooks, 25-pound weights (ow) etc. Last week I noticed that my hands and fingers felt a bit numb. This week: tingling sensations up and down my arms.
Now I had experienced this before a few years back. When I was beta-testing a couple of MMOs plus working 50+ hour work weeks I noticed the same numbness. It went away after a while so I put it down to bad circulation. Now that I think about it, I had finished the beta-testing about the same time I got my first team lead promotion. That meant I was no longer coding as much and that most of my time was spent in meetings (which numbs the brain but you can't get braces for that).
Since the demotion of course I've been pounding out code (or at least using tools) for most of the work day. I've also been playing computer games again after a long hiatus: Mass Effect and Tabula Rasa. And thus the strain on my poor piggly-wigglies. I'm also getting a fit-ball for both work and home computer desks as my neck and shoulders are killing me. I've always had bad posture but I've been feeling Quasimodo-ish for the past month.
Add the fact that I need to shove a piece of plastic in my mouth every night to stop me from grinding my teeth to nubs. I'm pretty sure the next logical, inevitable step is to get a Rascal, hike my pants up to my nipples, replace my hips and finally get that house so I can shout at kids to "git offa mah lawn!".
On another note I went and did something that seemed like a good idea at the time but turned out to be a case of "No Good Deed Goes Unpunished". I won't go into details but in a fit of moronic magnanimity, I attempted to give moral support to a stranger. For my trouble I was told, and I quote, "you are a psychopath and you will get yours". Yup, say what you want about the wages of sin but virtue doesn't pay at all but is just as taxing.
Update: Crap. I started reading old posts after I posted the above and got into the parts when I was dating Laroo. Crap.
A couple of weeks ago I noticed I was getting klutzy. Okay, klutzier. I would drop things like pens, notebooks, 25-pound weights (ow) etc. Last week I noticed that my hands and fingers felt a bit numb. This week: tingling sensations up and down my arms.
Now I had experienced this before a few years back. When I was beta-testing a couple of MMOs plus working 50+ hour work weeks I noticed the same numbness. It went away after a while so I put it down to bad circulation. Now that I think about it, I had finished the beta-testing about the same time I got my first team lead promotion. That meant I was no longer coding as much and that most of my time was spent in meetings (which numbs the brain but you can't get braces for that).
Since the demotion of course I've been pounding out code (or at least using tools) for most of the work day. I've also been playing computer games again after a long hiatus: Mass Effect and Tabula Rasa. And thus the strain on my poor piggly-wigglies. I'm also getting a fit-ball for both work and home computer desks as my neck and shoulders are killing me. I've always had bad posture but I've been feeling Quasimodo-ish for the past month.
Add the fact that I need to shove a piece of plastic in my mouth every night to stop me from grinding my teeth to nubs. I'm pretty sure the next logical, inevitable step is to get a Rascal, hike my pants up to my nipples, replace my hips and finally get that house so I can shout at kids to "git offa mah lawn!".
On another note I went and did something that seemed like a good idea at the time but turned out to be a case of "No Good Deed Goes Unpunished". I won't go into details but in a fit of moronic magnanimity, I attempted to give moral support to a stranger. For my trouble I was told, and I quote, "you are a psychopath and you will get yours". Yup, say what you want about the wages of sin but virtue doesn't pay at all but is just as taxing.
Update: Crap. I started reading old posts after I posted the above and got into the parts when I was dating Laroo. Crap.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Summertime!
Man I am loving this heat. Not just for the scantily-clad, sweat-clinging lovely creatures walking around (although that is a huge part of it) oh no. You see I grew up in Regina, and although the winters had most of us spray CFC laden chemicals in the air to speed up global warming, the summers were hot.
Perfection would be a pool without the 10% urine content of public swimming cess-pits.
Lamentably I'm on call this week or I would have gone down to the reservoir and rented a sailboat. Also L'il Bro B is in Vancouver else we'd be hitting a patio.
Other than that it's been an uninteresting week event-wise. I have been getting quite a few deja-vu as of late so Fate has something in store for me. I know that sounds weird: I'm not a spiritual/paranormal believer by any stretch but when this occurs, something big has usually happened. That or I'm not getting enough sleep with the heat.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to prep the BBQ for a nice New York cut and roasted corn. Livin' is easy....
Perfection would be a pool without the 10% urine content of public swimming cess-pits.
Lamentably I'm on call this week or I would have gone down to the reservoir and rented a sailboat. Also L'il Bro B is in Vancouver else we'd be hitting a patio.
Other than that it's been an uninteresting week event-wise. I have been getting quite a few deja-vu as of late so Fate has something in store for me. I know that sounds weird: I'm not a spiritual/paranormal believer by any stretch but when this occurs, something big has usually happened. That or I'm not getting enough sleep with the heat.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to prep the BBQ for a nice New York cut and roasted corn. Livin' is easy....
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Wheels Keep Turnin'
While I wait for month end to finish (one that has gone well for once) I thought I'd regale you with some of my life stories, or at least stuff that happened this past week.
To start, L'il Bro' B finally moved from Cowtown to Vancouver. It seemed a leetle beet more of a drawn out process than it should have been but I've never done a move out of the city so I could be wrong. He's moving to take a promotion at his job, and he's not going to miss the "dipshit ignorant sausage-fest Calgary" at all. And you thought I was bitter. I do have a feeling he may miss his brothers a bit, but only a bit. He's the brother who tends to "go dark" for weeks at a time. I'm guessing he'll still do that but for much shorter periods. Bonus: I have a place to crash when I go to Van!
In Entertainment news, I saw Spamalot! with Capa and Big M (and their "dates") last night. It was just as good as the first time when I saw it in T.O.. Granted the performance wasn't as "tight" (it's the traveling troupe) but it was just as fun. It also cemented the idea if I could find a woman who can sing and dance (and have the figure of same) and make me laugh, I'd get down on one knee and propose there and then. Bonus: rampant, blind and unrealistic optimism has proven to be good for your health.
In Auto news, I got myself new tires for the Moby-Mobile. What with all the cash that flowed away for the Mid-Life Crisis Tour '08 I was still a little hesitant to get them. The ones I had were the original set when I got the car in '01 but since I have less than 60K on the car I wasn't sure I needed new tires.
I needed new tires.
The difference is amazing! I actually splurged a bit and got something with high wear and traction ratings. The drive home today really opened my eyes: better acceleration, much better handling and quiet. Money well spent, and I'm sure even more so when the snow hits the ground. Bonus: got a very deep discount due to where I work.
And finally in Health news, this weekend I fell off the wagon, rolled down the shoulder, launched off the cliff and caused an impact crater a quarter mile away. You can still see the smoke coming from the impact epicenter, which is from my cigarette.
But it occurred to me today that since the last time I had quit using a patch, they radically changed the chemical composition of the patch. Which would explain (to a certain extent) why the damn things didn't feel like they were working at all. Besides, Big M's aunt (Auntie S), an experienced nurse, told me that most people who quit successfully used the gum instead of the patch. Now that they don't taste like the bottom of an ashtray, I bought a crate and will be trying that out this weekend. Bonus: less vulnerable to colds as that chemical in the patch that gets the nicotine under your skin also gets everything else it comes into contact with under said skin.
And so it goes...
To start, L'il Bro' B finally moved from Cowtown to Vancouver. It seemed a leetle beet more of a drawn out process than it should have been but I've never done a move out of the city so I could be wrong. He's moving to take a promotion at his job, and he's not going to miss the "dipshit ignorant sausage-fest Calgary" at all. And you thought I was bitter. I do have a feeling he may miss his brothers a bit, but only a bit. He's the brother who tends to "go dark" for weeks at a time. I'm guessing he'll still do that but for much shorter periods. Bonus: I have a place to crash when I go to Van!
In Entertainment news, I saw Spamalot! with Capa and Big M (and their "dates") last night. It was just as good as the first time when I saw it in T.O.. Granted the performance wasn't as "tight" (it's the traveling troupe) but it was just as fun. It also cemented the idea if I could find a woman who can sing and dance (and have the figure of same) and make me laugh, I'd get down on one knee and propose there and then. Bonus: rampant, blind and unrealistic optimism has proven to be good for your health.
In Auto news, I got myself new tires for the Moby-Mobile. What with all the cash that flowed away for the Mid-Life Crisis Tour '08 I was still a little hesitant to get them. The ones I had were the original set when I got the car in '01 but since I have less than 60K on the car I wasn't sure I needed new tires.
I needed new tires.
The difference is amazing! I actually splurged a bit and got something with high wear and traction ratings. The drive home today really opened my eyes: better acceleration, much better handling and quiet. Money well spent, and I'm sure even more so when the snow hits the ground. Bonus: got a very deep discount due to where I work.
And finally in Health news, this weekend I fell off the wagon, rolled down the shoulder, launched off the cliff and caused an impact crater a quarter mile away. You can still see the smoke coming from the impact epicenter, which is from my cigarette.
But it occurred to me today that since the last time I had quit using a patch, they radically changed the chemical composition of the patch. Which would explain (to a certain extent) why the damn things didn't feel like they were working at all. Besides, Big M's aunt (Auntie S), an experienced nurse, told me that most people who quit successfully used the gum instead of the patch. Now that they don't taste like the bottom of an ashtray, I bought a crate and will be trying that out this weekend. Bonus: less vulnerable to colds as that chemical in the patch that gets the nicotine under your skin also gets everything else it comes into contact with under said skin.
And so it goes...
Monday, August 04, 2008
Booked
Ah, the end of the weekend. The five days were nice, but I could use a couple more to recover the chore-flurry. However I'm more than willing to forego time off now in anticipation of Maui for the B-day. I just booked the hotel (yes it's cheesy), which means all the big expenses have been taken care of. I didn't get the full-on-the-beach room, rather a "full beach view" which saved me a couple hundred bucks, but at least it ain't a glorious view of the parking lot. It includes a car rental, which is cool, breakfast each day and a massage, and was cheaper than just the room. Yeah I know, there's a catch somewhere....
So now some wardrobe: shorts, a couple of shirts and a hat. And now that summer is almost over, those should be cheap like borscht.
I so need a beach. I've been saying that daily for three years but now it's gonna happen! And on my birthday! I'm gonna be as drunk as a sailor at the luau....
Meaning, with my luck, I'll wake up the next day as "crew" on a cargo-ship headed to Siberia.
So now some wardrobe: shorts, a couple of shirts and a hat. And now that summer is almost over, those should be cheap like borscht.
I so need a beach. I've been saying that daily for three years but now it's gonna happen! And on my birthday! I'm gonna be as drunk as a sailor at the luau....
Meaning, with my luck, I'll wake up the next day as "crew" on a cargo-ship headed to Siberia.
Friday, August 01, 2008
It Must be Fate!
Why, oh why is it that every time I take time off I get sick by day two?
And I know exactly who the culprit is. While buying $5 DVDs at BestBuy at lunch, the girl at the checkout sneezed right in my face. She didn't even attempt to turn away or cover her mouth. That was Tuesday and most colds have a three day incubation phase. I got the histamine feeling around noon today. Right on schedule.
Gotta go drink a gallon of Echinacia (sp) tea.
And I know exactly who the culprit is. While buying $5 DVDs at BestBuy at lunch, the girl at the checkout sneezed right in my face. She didn't even attempt to turn away or cover her mouth. That was Tuesday and most colds have a three day incubation phase. I got the histamine feeling around noon today. Right on schedule.
Gotta go drink a gallon of Echinacia (sp) tea.
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