Wednesday 28 November 2012

Things I learned this month:

Dysarthria is a speech disorder where the muscles required literally won't play ball to help pronounce words.

Stephen Hawking has my favourite kind of sense of humour. The man is one of the most spectacularly intelligent people in history, and quite frankly I'm overawed and a little intimidated by his scary smarts - but he explains things so neatly, never being patronizing and often with light heartedness... I aspire to be that kind of person.
(Page sample snapped from "Universe in a Nutshell")

I discovered an appreciation for associating abstract concepts, such as a how a train and a bicycle, a watch and a ruler, or music and painting are similar... Seems silly, but don't you feel a little bit good for going "Oh yeah, those are examples of..."

Which lead me to discover "neologism"; a new word when you can't grab the one you want. Portmanteaus are "old versions" of neologisms, such as "brunch". Breakfast and Lunch. Or "tellypresser". ;)

Other discoveries included finding out that if His Lordship catches me drinking his tea and goes "Noooooo." in such a way as to make me laugh, I can turn into a tea-geyser. Everything smelled like tea for ages.

And that the Hawaiian lava flats look AMAZING. Oh, and that you can have dinner on them, as my friend Buddhini proved. Lava-grilled sausages. Mmmmm.


Ooh, and check out: http://www.nsf.gov/index.jsp

Sunday 25 November 2012

A certain Tstupid lizard managed to hurt his eye last Saturday, throwing himself out of his tank to get at Hyphen and clunked it on the edge of his door, giving himself a minor abrasion on his cornea.

He's sat on his hut, eye shut, mouth open. I poked him gently in the ribs. He opened his eye. "Wut?" and shut it. Opened it again. "You still here? What do you want?" and closed it.

Blueberries make him sad. He does not want a blueberry. Oh... sweeties? YEAH! Sweeties make EVERYTHING better!

Most corneal scratches heal in less than a week, and the infection risk rate is less than 0.7% when it's properly cleaned - but that doesn't stop it being very sore. The biscuit bit from bourbon biscuits is also apparently a good pain killer.

Jam woke up as I came through the room (on my way to work), gave me a mournful look and scratched her nose on her bedpost. I leaned in and gave her flaky eye a good scratch and lifted off the loose scales.

It's the most adorable thing ever, by the way - having figured out that humans are good itching-tools and easily manipulated into providing their services more efficiently than the bedpost - Jam really gets into her scratches, like a cat enjoying a good fuss, leaning into your hand and almost purring!

Happily de-itched, she then pointed out her bowl was empty...

So here's Jam, almost having breakfast in bed. Lucky bloody lizard!

Friday 23 November 2012

Pasta.

WARNING: RELIGIOUS RANT!


So, as most of you know, I regularly tangle with religious fundamentalists, and I'm very patient with them, despite some very peculiar ideas, like the Young Earth theory, or this one... (Which Zak is busy dealing with, here.)


However, when dealing with one overly-zealous preacher whom kept forcing his views at me after repeated polite requests to desist, I surprised myself with the sheer volume of sauce that rose - until my pan overfloweth. (For those familiar with the Bible, you might recognise which bits are in response to his quotes!)

And lo, the mighty carbohydrated deity said unto us, let there not be inflexibility in the world - let us all mingle peacefully in the warmth of the waters, so that we will be happy amongst our bretheren, be they spaghetti, fusili or conchiglie!

And for those whom cannot partake of the gluten based carbohydrate, let them also understand that gnocci is perfectly acceptable, based on potato, though it is.

For even those whom cannot sup of the mighty marinara lest it be harming the animals from whence the meat is taken, let them be accepted also, with succulent sides of tofu or quorn - and let them not be preachy gits about it, for we know the suffering that commences, and we do what we can to alleviate it with kindness and free range produce.

Those that be condemning thee with threats of torture and misery, forgive them - they know not the harm they do, they are ignorant and without carbohydrates to give them the blood sugar boost they so desperately need.

One day they will understand that it is not hellfire - there is no hellfire. Just a mighty flame over which the pot of the universe simmers, with all of us safely gathered, sifted from the waters of trivial day-to-day inanities, and served in fine dishes at the table of heaven.

About noontime, the table was laid, the bowls were set, the checkered tablecloth resplendent in its Italian Bistro red - and thus we partook of his kindness, so that we could work harder for the afternoon and put right the parts of the world that we could. 

I hope that you can accept other people for who they are. I pray that given time and warmth, you can become flexible like the spaghetti, yet, like the spaghetti, still retain the full essence of what you are. You will be able to happily mingle in peace with all others in the colander of society, be they conchiglie or fusilli - I believe that one day you will understand your fellow man and find compassion for the souls of others.

We are all in the same pan. We are all of the same stuff, yet varied in shape and colour. I hope for a better future and understanding. We do not have hell, where I am from. We simply have justice, and peace.

R'Amen.


I also draw the line HERE. Yes, they're saying: "Believe in God, or Risk Twelve Months in Prison in Kentucky!"

Sunday 18 November 2012

Jacjacattack!

I really don't know how these guys see it and I can only imagine it generates this response because it looks kind of scaly.

Now Hyphen's over it, Jac has a problem with it. And he is literally teeth deep in that thing


Never mind - he might be a weird little lizard, but his character is coming out and his attitude is slowly improving. He's still got a very "I can manage for myself, I am an island, I do not require your assistance woman" attitude and a mighty scowl, on par to Clint Eastwood's bulldog/wasp expression, which has earned him his new moniker: He is now Jacques in-parenthesis von Cleef.

It goes very well with his almost-adorable and somewhat hilarious fits of anger, the target of which is as diverse as the directions of the wind.

He thought about picking a fight with His Lordship's slippers - but decided my phone was an easier target and let teethmarks in the cover. He then beat up the skirting board until I fetched the carpet slope for him to maul, before chasing His Lordship's jeans cuffs around the living room, earning himself a few gentle scoots of discouragement.

Not bad for a sick, raggedy skin and bones, parasite ridden lizard with a seriously bad attitude just three months ago, is it?

Tuesday 13 November 2012

Pastafarian Passports?

Yahhharrr - I am an OFFICIAL CITIZEN of the High Seas! 


The Terramar Project is about raising awareness, transparency and responsibility for the oceans. Donations received help support education initiatives, technology, research and expeditions, supporting training programmes and other environmentally based projects. (Heads up - the donate link doesn't work well in Chrome. It does still work in shudders Internet Explorer though.)

Claim yer patch, raise yer flag - it matters not whether ye be pirate; we all live on this same planet together, so let us protect it! You can find my  location of citizenship here: 53° 34' 58.09" N, 0° 5' 34.75" E

I am a officially citizen of the High Seas, just like a Pirate should be!

Thursday 8 November 2012

Warning: emotional topic (not about me)

Over the last month (yes, I'm doing a hefty catchup!) I've been debating euthanasia, abortion and right-to-life topics at length with people whom hold "sanctity of life" in the highest order.

There's a woman on a pro-life forum saying that she's totally cool with letting potentially many thousands of women each year die from ectopic pregnancy, rather than treat it - all because it will be an "abortion". Bearing in mind a tubular ectopic pregnancy has ZERO chance of the baby surviving. She justifies it: "If the mother is at risk of losing her life, that's a risk all mothers take. All mothers should be prepared to make that sacrifice." I can't agree with you. A raped woman has not made that choice.


Anyway THIS LINKIE was particular case was a breakthrough for my argument on "sanctity of life".

"The judge said that “with a heavy heart” he had to agree to the hospital’s request to withdraw life-sustaining treatment as doctors and nurses agreed that all further interventions would be futile - the child was at risk of further complications and infection as well as already being seriously ill."

This is the bit that makes me particularly sad...
"The boy’s 17-year-old sister said her brother had told her that he believed God could heal him, and it was his faith that had sustained him until now."

In this case, she's wrong. It wasn't so much faith or deity - it was medical science. They turned the machine off, he died. God didn't step in and sustain him. Your faith is commendable but, I fear, unfounded. It's one of the reasons I have a very hard time believing in a God that is omnipresent and omniscient. It's one of the reasons I prefer my fallible god.

I was extremely interested to notice that out of 213 voters on one poll on the Pastafarian forum, only two votes were against. One of which turned out to be a complete troll, and promptly blocked - and the other of which turns out to be a Christian and ID proponent.

Friday 2 November 2012

More stuff I have learned recently...

Today, I learned that cockroaches don't carry oxygen in their blood. I was aware their blood is clear and that they have tubes allowing air to penetrate into the body, but it hadn't occurred to me that they didn't circulate oxygen.

I also learned the Baha'i faith believe that demons are merely metaphors for the worst parts of human imperfection and don't exist in the real or spiritual realms.

I DEFINITELY learned that the FSM has a sense of humour as well as a sense of Karmic Justice. I swear on my own life that I haven't made any of this up - I'm literally crying in pain, I'm laughing so hard.

His Lordship was having a bit of a rant how he never gets a weekend off to do his things and, whilst he appreciates how nice it is of (usually my grandmother!) to invite him to dinner, afternoons out and such, he hasn't had a single Sunday to himself to do his stuff lately.

And midway through this self-same mini-rant, my grandmother called to apologise that she wouldn't be able to offer us dinner after all; my grandfather's new medication is causing him problems and he's gone to sleep it off instead.

At which point he looked thoroughly hard-done by and guilty, cursing "There MUST be a god after all, only the Flying Spaghetti Monster would dick around like this!"

Poor chap. I understood what he was saying though, and he didn't mind too much that I was laughing my ass off at this point, pausing the telly (yay cable TV!) to let me finish hooting.

He came over to apologise and rant a bit more at the ass that is my joker of a god (and by default as a non-deistic Pastafarian, technically his), and as I hugged him and he apologised... the TV spontaneously unpaused itself, randomly selecting a music channel... at the very perfect, precise point where Blink182's singer Tom DeLonge sings... "and I'm so sorry!"

Sending him off in a further ranty "God is a douche!" laughterstorm.

Serves him right. Gifthorse dentistry and all that.

And Hyphen reconfirmed his status as still a loveable idiot.