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An Artist’s Notebook of Sorts

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Weak XXV|

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26 June 2013

gratuitous image

No. 8,391 (cartoon)

Do you fear death?

Death is just another lifestyle.

27 June 2013

The Ed Gein Automotive Aesthetic

Nissan Motor Company engineers are trying to create automotive upholstery with “the texture and softness of human skin.” As much as I appreciate human contact, I don’t think I’d want to sit on anyone’s lap for hundreds of kilometers. Even worse, the Japanese researchers seek to replicate, “the texture associated with a pattern of fingerprints.” Being continually touched by a thousand fingers is almost certainly someone’s idea of a pleasant time, but not mine.

Or maybe Edward Theodore Gein is the reason I dislike this idea. Gein was a murderer and grave robber who decorated his home with human remains, including chairs upholstered with human skin. He was ahead of his time; that was over half a century ago. If he were alive today, he might be gainfully employed by the Nissan Motor Company.

I’ll take the warm leatherette; thanks!

28 June 2013

Investing Wisely

Angelina was impressed with Freddie’s wealth, so she asked him how to make money on the stock market. He told her that there’s no magic secret, it’s just a matter of investing wisely. I kept my mouth shut because I knew that he was lying.

“Why did you tell Angelina such rubbish about investing wisely?” I asked when we were alone. “We both know you made all your money from insider trading.”

“I told her the truth,” Freddie protested. “Insider trading is the only form of smart investing.”

“Then why didn’t you tell her that?” I asked.

“If she’s not smart enough to figure that out for herself,” he replied, “then she’s not smart enough to get away with it.”

I suppose he actually did give her good advice; winning by cheating is always a good strategy.

29 June 2013

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The Internet’s Pioneering Pusses

A lot of people who really should know better have pooh-poohed my historical evidence of the role cats played in the early days of the Internet. The ignorant skeptics have never heard of TCP/IP (Transfer Cat Protocol/Internet Protocol), but that doesn’t stop them from spouting their nonsensical nonsense. And so, it’s time to present even more evidence in the improbable hope that such proof will drive these nattering nabobs of negativism back into their caves.

The Internet is a network of cables; that’s how data gets from here to there and back again. The technical specifications for the wiring is determined by the International Internet Infrastructure Foundation in Geneva, Switzerland. The protocol, outlined in the Transmission Cable Enhancement Implementation Timeline, is updated every ninety months. Most recently, the IIIF approved Cat 7 cables.

It’s time to look at the nomenclature. Is the wiring called computer cabling? No. Ethernet cables? No. Internet cables? Nope. They’re called Cat cables for a reason. Do the math: Cat 1 came out in January, 1969, when the Internet depended on Felis silvestris catus.

The other day, Vint Cerf showed me some home movies he made of the bored pusses wandering through Cat 1. Unfortunately, he can’t disseminate the films because the work, funded by the U.S. Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, remains classified as “Top Secret.”

And so, the next time you see a Cat 5/6/7 cable plugged into your computer or router, remember the Internet’s pioneering pusses.

30 June 2013

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Gratuitous Photo of the Weak: Smoked Pig Ears

Evelyn feeds her dogs smoked pig ears. I found it disconcerting that a bag of doggie snacks contains twenty-five ears. I wonder which is worse: being a pig in a wretched pork factory with no ears, or a pig with one ear about to be slaughtered?

1 July 2013

The Tour de France: What a Joke!

Today’s the first day of the Tour de France bicycle race, and that calls for a great big yawn. Ever since the first race in 1903, the spectacle has devolved from an enjoyable sport into an exercise in mechanical and biological engineering . I appreciate the advances in bike technology; my thousand dollar bike would have cost at least five times that much a decade ago. But ...

The thing that bothers me about professional cycling in general and the Tour de France in particular is the commercial imperative to turn cyclists into automatons by using esoteric drugs, blood transfusions, et cetera. Dr. Goggin told me that in the olden days (the fifties?), riders used to sit around at night drinking wine and smoking cigarettes between stages of the epic competition.

If I was organizing the Tour de France, I’d require each rider to eat two hundred grams of pasta and drink a liter of wine a day. I’d also support the drug bans, although that would be futile since the chemists are always at least three steps ahead of the people trying to find out what they’re doing.

Finally, I’d require each team member to tell a joke a day. In the event of a tie, the team with the best jokes wins.

Et voilà!

The Tour de France: what a joke!

Stare.

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©2013 David Glenn Rinehart

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