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 |    Not for the faint of art. |
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Complex Numbers A complex number is expressed in the standard form a + bi, where a and b are real numbers and i is defined by i^2 = -1 (that is, i is the square root of -1). For example, 3 + 2i is a complex number. The bi term is often referred to as an imaginary number (though this may be misleading, as it is no more "imaginary" than the symbolic abstractions we know as the "real" numbers). Thus, every complex number has a real part, a, and an imaginary part, bi. Complex numbers are often represented on a graph known as the "complex plane," where the horizontal axis represents the infinity of real numbers, and the vertical axis represents the infinity of imaginary numbers. Thus, each complex number has a unique representation on the complex plane: some closer to real; others, more imaginary. If a = b, the number is equal parts real and imaginary. Very simple transformations applied to numbers in the complex plane can lead to fractal structures of enormous intricacy and astonishing beauty. ![Merit Badge in Quill Award
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Congratulations on winning an honorable mention for Best Blog at the 2018 Quill Awards for [Link To Item #1196512] . *^*Smile*^* This award was sponsored by the blogging consortium including [Link To Item #30dbc] , [Link To Item #blogcity] , [Link To Item #bcof] and [Link To Item #1953629] . For more details, see [Link To Item #quills] .](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/type-Blogging-2180.gif) ![Merit Badge in Highly Recommended
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"30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS"  [13+]:11. National Noodle Ring Day This is not just some random food holiday about pasta forming a ring. It is about a special dish everyone can cook who has a bundt pan and noodles. The noodles have to be cooked and then filled into the bundt pan. Anything can be added now: from eggs, tomatoes, cheese, carrots, or bacon, and of course the sauce. The dish now has to bake and can later be turned upside down. Thought and opinions? Something you might try? "JAFBG" [XGC]:Some say this is the time of year to make peace. What are you coming to terms with as 2020 draws to an end? No. To both. The former reminds me too much of the gelatin molds that were inexplicably popular when I was a kid. Look, I'm sure the noodle ring can be delicious -- how could it not be; it's pasta -- but I have better things to do with pasta, and if I'm going to bake it, it's going to be in a normal pan because I don't do "cute." We all like different things for different reasons, and I made peace with that a long time ago -- at least in culinary matters. As for the kind of peace the other prompt is talking about, of course I'm for "peace." On earth, goodwill to humanity, etc. Nothing wrong with that. It's just the whole "coming to terms with" I'm not going to go out of my way to do. Eventually we either make peace with whatever bad stuff happens, or we die first. No need to rush it, especially when there was so much about this year that was just insufferably bad for so many people. It's easier for me knowing that shit's basically random. Other people, I know, take comfort in believing that it's all part of a plan. But other people would probably also make and eat Noodle Rings. Whatever. Yeah, I know I usually have more to say in here, but nothing important happened yesterday and the prompts really aren't inspiring anything. I mean, food prompts usually at least make me hungry, but not this one. Tomorrow, though... probably then I'll have something better to say. |
"30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" [13+]:10. Human Rights Day Write anything you wish about this. "JAFBG" [XGC]:How do you feel about New Year's resolutions? What are you definitely not going to work on in 2021? You know, I almost -- almost -- wish I were more sober to do this particular combination. Yesterday, I made latkes. This may not seem like a big deal to anyone else, but to get me to actually do the work to create a food thing is a major undertaking. My motivation was simple: I couldn't visit my friends in California this year, and when I do visit them, there's a tradition of eating latkes (among other things) and going wine-tasting. So I approximated this at home by making my own latkes and drinking wine. Not California wine this time, though, no, I had to go all the way and drink a Vouvray. Allow me to expand upon the wonder that is Vouvray. All along the Loire Valley in France, there are vineyards. This should not be shocking; it is, after all, France. But there's something about that particular region. Vouvray is created from the chenin blanc grape, and anywhere that chenin blanc grows one can make wine out of it. But most chenin blanc is terrible. Not so with the Loire Valley. There's something about the soil there that imparts an earthy character to the wine. This is called -- and I knew this word before I even started learning French seriously -- terroir. One of these days, I want to spend like two weeks (or maybe more) in France, mostly touring that area, if they'll put up with an ugly American for that long. Oh, sure, you hear about Bordeaux and Champagne and Burgundy or whatever, but of course I have to seek out the lesser-known regions because I'm secretly a hipster. Shh, don't tell anyone. Anyway, the reason I'm not entirely sober right now is I drank most of a bottle of Vouvray while eating the latkes that I made (with an applesauce topping created by my housemate -- said applesauce being improved by my idea of adding pears in addition to the apples). I guess maybe I have some creativity after all. But regarding the prompts. I think I've made my opinion on New Years resolutions more than clear over the many years I've been here. My go-to joke in the Comedy newsletter has been how we make resolutions and they're mostly broken by the end of the month. I've even encouraged people to go ahead and break them on New Year's Day just so you can get that shit right out of your system. I always avoided going to the gym in January, because it takes that long for people to give up. I call them tourists, because they invade the gym in January and are mostly gone by February. This was in the Before Time, of course, when going to the gym was a viable option. I hate the entire idea of resolutions. So allow me to expand upon what, exactly, I am NOT going to work on in 2021: I am not going to stop smoking cigars. I am not going to go on a diet (I mean, sure, I've been careful about what I eat, but I'm not making any further changes just because a calendar flips over). I am not going to commit to writing, reading, reviewing, or really anything else. I am absolutely, definitely, not going to stop, or even slow down, my drinking. I think everyone can agree that 2020 sucked major camel ass. Right? Anyone think this was a great year? No? I didn't think so. A lot of people seem to be looking forward to 2021, but I have to reiterate: it's just going to be more of the same suckage. New Years are strictly arbitrary anyway, and the older I get, the more I resent the Gregorian calendar and its utter disconnection from anything real. There are certain astronomical events that define the passage of time much better than the fake-ass calendar ever can, and again, I've harped on these things to the point where I'm sure people have quit listening to me. But I'll say it again anyway: the only markings of the passage of time that are meaningful to me are sun and moon milestones. Solstices. Equinoxes. Full and new moons. The dance of the sun, moon and planets means something to me, while the arbitrary counting of days, months, and years is just a thing imposed upon us, like the idea of a number system or a language. Which SEGUÉ leads me to point out just how arbitrary "human rights" are. Now look, I'm not arguing against human rights, here. Nor am I nearly sober enough to enumerate what I think human rights should be. But. Rights are what we, collectively, decide that they are. Now, I could get into things like your "right" not to wear a mask as opposed to my "right" not to collect your germs. But I'm not going to. Instead. I want to point out that instead of talking about "rights," we should be talking about "responsibilities." Like. For instance. If we declare, collectively, that there is, as enumerated in the USA's founding documents, the "right to life," that implies that we all have the responsibility not to kill each other. (And don't get me started on how that applies to abortion. All I'll say about that right now is that life begins at birth, period, end of discussion, I have spoken.) You have the right to free speech? The associated responsibility is that I do not have the power to silence you. I have the right to free exercise of religion (or lack thereof)? The attendant responsibility is that you may not impose the tenets of your religion (or lack thereof) upon me. I'm always arguing with my conservative friend over health care. "Health care is not a right," he says. "It should be," I say. This is a legitimate area of discussion, and while I have my opinions on the subject, I understand that there is room for debate and compromise. The point being that we can only decide what "human rights" are through careful consideration, philosophy, and science -- rights are, in the end, abstract ideas. Perhaps if I hadn't been drinking I could delve more deeply into the abstractions involved. But right now, I just can't be arsed. I will say that, drunk or sober, I think we all need to take the responsibility to end discrimination based on race, gender, religion, etc. That's something we can all work on, and it shouldn't take a purely arbitrary calendar shift to decide this. "Oh, it's the New Year, I think I'll quit being racist this year." No, fuck that. Just quit being racist, all of y'all. |
"30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" [13+]:9. National Pastry Day Write about an experience of eating pastries. What did you eat, with whom, etc? "JAFBG" [XGC]:How is covid changing your holiday plans and how do you feel about that? Apparently, since a lot of people have things way worse than I do, I'm supposed to be quiet and not complain. Right around now is when I'd normally be going to California for a few days -- some years, I'd be gone for quite a bit more than a few days, because I'd drive across the country -- but of course that's not happening. But it seems I'm supposed to be okay with that because other people are sick, have lost family members or jobs, or are merely more inconvenienced than I am. So this is fine. I'm fine. Whatever. Nor am I able to eat as many pastries as I'd like. But again, it's fine. Other people can't eat them at all for health reasons so I guess I'm supposed to be thankful that I can have one occasionally. There's a bakery near me that does bread and pastries that are so transcendently wonderful that, were I to visit it as often as I'd like, I'd be unable to move. The last pastry I had from them was a chocolate croissant, unbelievably flaky crust rolled around a delicious high-cocoa filling. One bite and I gained fifty pounds. Yeah, I know that's physically impossible, but I managed. Pretty sure I only had one of them this whole year. I do occasionally get bread from that bakery, but fortunately they don't deliver or I'd be dead from gorging on delicious baguettes. And they also sell an awesome pain de campagne. I've spent the last year and a half learning French so I could properly pronounce "pain de campagne." But I'm not supposed to complain, because at least I don't have diabetes or whatever. So I'm deliriously happy about that. Really, I am. Can't you tell? Absolutely fucking ecstatic because other people have it worse than I do. Yay, so very fortunate, lucky me. |
"30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" [13+]:8. Brownie Day There are many types of brownies: Fudgy, cakey, 'special', with or without nuts, etc... Tell us something about brownies. "JAFBG" [XGC]:What is something that you honestly want for the holidays that you could never admit to your loved ones? Okay, I gotta admit I'm not feeling it today. I can't figure how to make these prompts work. It happens sometimes. I'll respond to them straight up, but don't expect creativity, humor, or any of that shit from me today. Yesterday, and continuing into today, I was utterly overwhelmed with frustration and resentment at life, the universe, and everything, and I just don't see that changing anytime soon, which only feeds back onto the frustration in an infinite recursion. Less than two weeks to the solstice. 5:02 am Eastern time, Monday, December 21. It's been my habit, in most years recently, to stay awake through that longest night. Somehow I always feel like the astronomical reversal could mirror a reversal in my own shitty December mood. And sometimes it does. But again, I just don't see that happening this time. It's frustrating and I resent it. And look, concerning that second prompt up there, if I had loved ones, if I could bring myself to give enough of a shit about myself or anyone else, then presumably I could tell them anything, even including admitting something I wanted. On the other hand, I wouldn't share it here. That's not how any of this works. But when it comes to something that I "honestly" want for the holidays, it would be for the holidays to be fucking over already. I'm done with this shit. I did my usual taphouse visit yesterday, even though it was cold and dreary like December usually is, and I sat on the patio and got subjected to holiday music. Not even beer could make me feel better. I mean, seriously, how many versions of "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" can they fit into a single one-hour dining experience? It was like... that song, some other song, then a different version of that song, then another sappy POS song, then that song again in yet another version, then "Baby it's cold outside," then that sonofabitching song again... it's frustrating and I resent it. Maybe I just need to make brownies, as per the first prompt. I used to do that sort of thing, you know, like normal people: bake stuff when I felt like it. It just feels like too much work, these days. And then what? Then I end up with a bunch of brownies or whatever. I could, technically, eat them quickly, but that wouldn't be healthy. Or I could eat them slowly, but then they'll go bad before I finish them. It's frustrating and I resent it. The problem with other peoples' brownies is you never know what you're going to get. Too many variations. I like them denser than a neutron star and completely free of nuts of any kind -- basically a chocolate bar. But you go to a restaurant or whatever and they'll have a light fluffy cakey brownie thing with walnuts and/or pecans. Look, I got nothing against nuts (apart from peanuts, which aren't really nuts), but I want my chocolate unadulterated. It's frustrating and I resent it. But then when I've tried to make my own, it never goes right. The edges become hard as bricks and the inside is mushy as a dead rabbit. It's frustrating and I resent it. I can't even bring myself to make a snide pun about the other kinds of brownies out there: the gnome-type ones from folklore or the girl scout ones. I want to, but again, I'm just not feeling it. I don't see a way out of this funk. I just don't. Can I just sleep through to March? Please? Oh, but then I wouldn't reach my goal of writing a blog entry every day this year. But that would be typical, wouldn't it? Most of my goals fail. It's frustrating and I resent it. |
"30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" [13+]:7. Letter Writing Day Write a letter to one of your favorite characters. Which book and who's the author? "JAFBG" [XGC]:Each year, scalpers buy the most popular holiday gifts and sell them for triple what they paid for them. How do you feel about the practice of scalping? "Write a letter?" Oh, sure, just let me get my inkwell, ink, goosefeather quill, parchment, and blotter and arrange them all upon my writing-desk, which resideth within my conservatory. Now where did I put that sealing-wax and my signet ring? Speaking of which, when I was a kid, I was convinced it was meant to be ceiling-wax, and I didn't understand why one would want to wax a ceiling and what that had to do with correspondence. Also when I was a kid, I had the worst handwriting in five states. If they'd had a "worst handwriting" competition, I'd have won. We had chickens for a while, and they scratched out more legible letters than I did. Fortunately, we had typewriters, and then computers, and I got really good at touch-typing. I still couldn't sign my name as anything but a scrawl, though. So to really address the first prompt -- and to find a way to merge the two prompts -- I have to pick a character that's able to receive email. That leaves out fantasy characters. And it probably leaves out science fiction characters because I don't think any email I send will be around long enough to get to, say, Captain Kirk. Besides, like I said, it also has to address the scalping issue, so someone who can do something about those scum would be... Ah. I've got it. To: batman@batcave.org From: cathartes02@writing.com Subject: adventure capitalists Hello, I hope all is well with you and the Joker hasn't killed another sidekick recently. First of all, thank you for all that you do. You are an inspiration in your dedication to justice, your code of ethics, and your impeccable fashion sense. Also, wonderful toys. Well done. I'm writing to you this evening with a fervent request. As you know, it's the holiday season, which means more petty crime, which I realize is usually beneath your notice as you're normally off chasing Catwoman (I don't blame you) or foiling the Penguin's plans. But there's an issue which affects families all over Gotham and beyond, and I believe that you are in a unique position to do something about it. I'm speaking, of course, about scalpers: people who buy up all the most popular holiday items and then resell them for an obscene profit. Now, at first glance, I realize this is just an extension of capitalism: get there first, invest money in hopes of a high return, charge what people are willing to pay, give your employees minimum wage or less. And I also realize you got where you are now because of capitalism (yes, I know who you are, Mr. W.). But even you have to admit that charging poor families double or triple the market price is in, at the very least, poor taste. So, at the very least, maybe keep an eye out for these scalpers. Swoop down on top of their sleazy vans or whatever, and then when they look up, just glare at them. Maybe say "I'm Batman." That usually scares them off. Then you can do the Santa thing and redistribute the wealth to the p- oh, wait, that's communism. Don't do that. Return the products to the store and make the people buy them at retail, then. Of course, scalping wouldn't work if people weren't willing to pay more than the retail price. You probably own some of the companies making the popular items, so this is also an opportunity for you: jack up the prices, because clearly the market can bear it, and who knows? You might make enough extra money to be able to replace Robin with a robot next time, so you won't be as broken up when the Joker does what the Joker does. Oh, and since it was my idea, I'd appreciate a commission. Say, 20% of the net? Above all, have a batty holiday season! Oh, and if you could give me Catwoman's mobile number, that'd be great, thanks. Regards, Waltz |
| I enjoy making up my own traditions and then following them... or not. "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" [13+]:6. Marooned Without a Compass Day! So where are you and what are you going to do? or Bartender Appreciate Day! (Europe) Write about an encounter with a bartender, make one up if you have to. "JAFBG" [XGC]:Some traditions are a lot of fun. Others are a pain in the ass. What are your least favorite holiday traditions? I try not to be too negative around this time of year. Not only am I prone to seasonal depression, but I think some people take my grumpiness as a personal affront. But, dammit, it's hard sometimes. Especially this year, when the one inviolable holiday tradition -- that of traveling to reconnect with friends and family -- will only result in more illness and death. Just know that, apart from dangerous behaviors, I'm not trying to criticize others' traditions just because they don't work for me. I really do wish everyone, in the spirit of the season and for the sake of humanity in general, peace and joy; just understand that, in general, things like blinky lights, yard decorations, and most especially, the despicable practice of dressing your car up to look like a reindeer, annoy the living shit out of me. Probably, it would be more succinct to mention those holiday traditions that don't cheese me off. Most of these involve drinking, which should surprise no one. It's an excuse to drink eggnog or spiced wine, for example, which is kind of frowned upon at other times of the year. I actually kind of like the traveling, to a certain extent, although with millions of other people doing it, things get crowded, and I dislike crowds. When I first got my driver's license, lo these many years ago, I started my own tradition: go out on Christmas Day (first making sure I had a full tank) and drive around, enjoying the solitude as, on that one day, most people were staying home or at their holiday destinations, leaving the roads wonderfully empty. Back then, fewer things were open on the 25th, and for the most part, I had the road to myself. It was strange, especially after weeks of traffic, but also very calming -- provided, of course, there wasn't an ice storm. Since then, the world's population has doubled and more things are actually open on that holiday, so it's not as solitary; and besides, driving interferes with my drinking time. So last year, I started a new tradition for myself: walk over to the drafthouse cinema, about a mile away, and see how many of their 32 beers I can drink before I would be unable to stumble home (and finding an Uber on Christmas Day was not something I wanted to attempt). The primary purpose of the cinema, of course, is to show movies, but I didn't feel like seeing a film that day, so I parked myself at the bar in the mostly-empty restaurant part of the cinema complex. Because it was mostly empty, I got to talk to the bartender, whose name was Hunter. He seemed a decent guy and not too grumpy about having to work on Christmas Day; and, most importantly, the guy knew his beer. Turned out from talking to him that he was the one who got to choose the kegs for the taps, and let me tell you, Hunter has good taste in beer. I'm used to going to places that are heavy on IPAs and, more recently, sours, which are not my favorite styles of beer, but they're popular so a lot of beer vendors devote the bulk of their taps to them, leaving me to choose from maybe one or two preferable styles, such as English browns or Belgian tripels. Not this guy, though. Oh, there were a couple of IPAs and sours, and I think two of the taps were also devoted to ciders. We got to talking about that. One of my former go-to local beer places has only twelve taps, and the last time I went there, ten of them spouted pale ales, one of them was devoted to Pabst Blue Ribbon because hipsters, and the other was Allagash White, which is nice, but I need variety. Like I said, it was the last time I went there. Hunter agreed with me -- at least out loud; I'm sometimes incompetent at figuring out when a bartender is humoring me for the sake of a tip and when they actually share my feelings about beer, but in this case I'm pretty sure it was the latter. Turns out he'd worked at the IPA-heavy place for a while, and also preferred more variety. It's customary, at least in states that allow it, to let customers sample small quantities of a beer to help them determine whether to order a whole pint or not. It's best not to abuse the privilege, say by asking for samples of every one of the 32 beers/ciders and then not buying anything. Don't do that. It's a dick move. But since Hunter quickly pegged me as a Beer Guy (and, most importantly, one who was willing to spend money on pints and a pizza), I got to sample a lot of what was their selection at the time. There are some beers that are standards in each taphouse, ones they'll order over and over to keep them on the menu. Others generally rotate; when one keg kicks, it gets replaced by an entirely different magical concoction. That's what keeps me coming back, of course. While some people stick to one style or brand of beer, others, like me, enjoy trying new ones, and there are always a lot of new ones. Oh, sure, sometimes I like to go back to old favorites, too. And neither way is wrong; it's a matter of personal taste. It's just that some taphouses are heavy on the "standards" while others focus on the "rotation," but this place strikes a good balance between the two. You can do that with 32 taps. And so it was that when I was done -- I think I had four full beers in addition to a dozen or so samples, for a total between the beer and pizza of maybe 40 bucks, I handed him a $20 bill. "No, no, that's too much." "Dude, you're working on Christmas Day. Call it a present." I resolved then to make that my new Christmas Day tradition, since pretty much nothing else was open. But then the... well, you know what happened. The place closed entirely for several months, and I have no idea if they'll be open this Christmas or not. Like I said before: so much for tradition. Since I drafted this, I actually checked the theater's calendar. Turns out they're indeed open on Christmas Day, and they're showing a bunch of screens of Wonder Woman 1984. This is relevant to my interests. Now I need to decide if it's worth the risk. |
| Today is, of course, the most important commemoration of the year. "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" [13+]:5. Bonfire Night! Tell us about an evening around a bonfire. or Prohibition Ends in the US, 1933 Write whatever you like about this. "JAFBG" [XGC]Some people think it's wrong to lie to children about the existence of holiday icons like Santa and the Easter Bunny. How do you think parents should handle this? I visited a friend's house once, a woman with a bunch of stepchildren, all girls, who at the time were all preteens. I don't remember their exact ages but none of them rolled their eyes so they couldn't have been teens yet. So at this time, sometime in December several years ago, I was hanging out with her and her husband in the kitchen and the kids were right nearby, definitely within earshot, doing kid stuff. Obviously I don't remember too many details, but what I do remember is that the subject of Santa Claus came up. And me, not thinking, said something to the effect of "Of course, we all know Santa's not real." Oops. I haven't been invited back. I'm not going to try to tell people how to raise their kids. They won't listen to me anyway, since I'm not in their sacred club of kid-raisers. Not that they listen to other kid-raisers, either. But since you asked, I'm inclined to go with: Hell yeah. Lie to the little bastards. Lie ALL THE TIME (except, once in a while, throw in some truth just to keep them guessing). This way they will learn a valuable life lesson: no one is to be trusted. No one, not even your parents. Especially not your parents. Maybe then you'll raise a generation of sprogs who end up growing up distrusting the bullshit they see on the internet, as opposed to our current generations, who seem to believe whatever suits them, all evidence to the contrary. Or maybe not. I don't know. This is why I celebrate XXIst Amendment Day. The XXIst Amendment to the US Constitution is the one that repealed the XVIIIth Amendment, which was Prohibition. Clearly, in the XIII years or so between those two amendments, two others were ratified, the XIXth and the XXth. But I don't remember what those were about, nor can I be arsed to look it up because they cannot possibly be as important as the XXIst. Incidentally, Roman numerals are dumb. Point being, since I all the time gotta deal with other peoples' kids, whether they're still technically kids or have theoretically grown up, drinking helps. Prohibition itself was based a big lie, like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny -- that banning booze would alleviate many social problems. These beliefs were well-meaning, but without evidence, and they didn't really think their cunning plan all the way through. They got a big wake-up call from the Truth Fairy. My personal theory is that Prohibition was the proximate cause of the Great Depression, and Repeal was the proximate cause of getting out of the Great Depression. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. But it's (probably) a lie. I'd better wrap this up before I wax too philosophical about the nature of ideas and reality. Believing something doesn't make it so, but fictions have power, whether it be to convince a nation that they shouldn't be drinking, or convincing kids that a bearded white guy will give you nice things if you don't misbehave. Some people need to believe in something, I suppose. Me, I believe I'm going to have a commemorative drink. |
| Well, this is an interesting combination. Let's see how it turns out, shall we? "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" [13+]:4. Waiting for the Barbarians Day! Ok, tell us what you're up to and how you are preparing. "JAFBG" [XGC]:What was the worst gift you ever received and what was that person even thinking when gifting it to you? A while back, when I was still married, there was some fad going on around the holidays involving group gift swaps. For all I know it's still going on, but I wouldn't know because even before the pandemic I rarely hung out with people around the holidays, except for my friends in California, and they had the great good sense not to participate in this activity. I don't remember what it's called. Gift stealing? Something like that. Some of you probably know and can remind me in the comments. But as I recall, it goes something like this: Each person brings a themed gift, usually with a price cap. Like, maybe the theme is "red" or "fish" or "barbarians." This particular gift swap was hosted by my then-in-laws. (Hey, can I claim credit for "then-in-laws?" I don't think I've seen it anywhere.) Since we all lived in Virginia, the theme for this one was "Made in Virginia," and the price cap was like $25 or something like that. Like I said, I don't remember too many details, including what I or my wife brought. No, ham wasn't involved. There might have been Virginia wine; I honestly can't recall. So, like, all our names go into a Santa hat on little slips of paper, and one name comes out. That person picks a gift and unwraps it. Okay, great so far. Next random person can either pick a new, wrapped gift from the pile, or steal the first person's gift, which means the first person has to pick another wrapped gift. Third person can then pick a new gift or steal one of the first two. And so on. I think that when all the gifts are gone, the first person gets to swap with any of the now-unwrapped presents, because they didn't get a chance to steal before this. Anyway, what I recall about this is that I started out with something really nice that I don't remember, and ended up with a giant can of Virginia peanuts. I fucking hate peanuts. I mean, I hate them with an all-consuming fiery passion (for some reason, though, I like peanut butter; go figure.) If I were an asshole -- okay, if I were a bigger asshole, like the kind of barbarian who claims their annoying little yippy mutt is a service animal so they can bring them into restaurants, or the like -- I'd claim I was allergic to peanuts just so no one would break them out when I'm around. But I'm not allergic; it's just that my level of abhorrence goes off the scale. I avoid trail mixes with peanuts. I can't stand Snickers bars. Peanuts suck. Not only do I hate peanuts, but I loathe peanut breath more than is probably reasonable. If someone around me is eating peanuts, I'll go open a can of surströmming, pop a sewer manhole, or clean a cat's litter box just so I can smell something more pleasant than their exhalations. (I do make one exception: Thai or Vietnamese food with peanut sauce. I don't know why, but they work for me in those cuisines. I justify this by classing it in my head as "peanut butter.") Now, as far as I can recall, I never told my then-in-laws that. My wife knew, of course, and maybe she told them; I don't know. And like I said, I don't even remember the nice gift I started out with. But what has stuck with me all these years is the smug smirk on my shithead stepfather-in-law's face as he handed me this giant can of nasty legumes. And even after all of that, I'm at a loss to find an artistic segué into the barbarian prompt. I mean, I could say something like "anyone who forcibly swaps me a can of hideous peanuts for pretty much anything can only be described as a barbarian," but that really does barbarians a disservice. At least most cultures commonly referred to as "barbarians" had their own code of honor, and this guy had no honor. See, history was written not only by the victors but by people with the ability to write, and write in such a way that their writings stuck around a while. If your writing system consists of charcoal marks on tree barks, it's not going to last. If it's chiseled in stone or it's done with ink on parchment, well, then you get to define history, and so the people you don't like can get slapped with the "barbarian" label. But people are people, and most of them have cultures that work for them, even if those cultures are not understood by the ones who call themselves "civilized." The most obvious examples are the Nordic people, who had a strong culture, but were feared by the more city-dwelling cultures as barbarians. To be fair, they did invade a lot. But just because you don't like someone doesn't mean they follow a failed culture; just a different one. Like... Europeans who settled the Americas considered the natives to be savages or barbarians, but from the native point of view, the invaders would have been the barbarians. Except that some of these same American natives were the ones cultivating peanuts, so they obviously weren't completely blameless. Point is, everyone's a barbarian to someone. Keep that in mind next time you're tempted to think some other culture is inferior in some way. Oh, and Waiting For The Barbarians Day commemorates a novel written in 1980, which sounds awfully pretentiously literary but I can't be arsed to delve into it further; also, according to my surely-infallible source, it's observed on November, not December, 4. December 4 is, among other things, National Cookie Day. (I'm sure MirandaCookies COLLEGE SOON  will be happy to know this.) Just don't put any gods-be-damned peanuts in mine, thanks. |
| For the record, I'm selecting JAFBG prompts using a random number generator, for maximum chaos. "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" [13+]:3. National Roof Over Your Head Day! Tell us about the favorite room in your home. I don't have a favorite room in my home. What I do have is a home. That is, a relatively modest house in a quiet neighborhood that got picked for me by my first wife and her erstwhile business partner. They fell out, we fell out, somehow I kept the house. I decided I liked the house and its location, and so here I've been, absent a few months' worth of travel, for a bit over 25 years. The last time I refinanced the house, it was on a 15 year mortgage that I managed to pay off early, so it's mine. All mine. MUAHAHAHAHA. No bank, no neighborhood association, just perfectly reasonable city regulations about grass height, snow clearing, not hosting crack parties, and the like. I don't even have names for all the rooms. I mean, there's the kitchen, the bathrooms, and the bedrooms, one of which is oddly placed downstairs off the utility room that houses the HVAC, water heater , laundry facilities, and a whole lot of stuff. My housemate lives in that bedroom. I mostly keep to the upstairs area. Also downstairs is a big room that I suppose would be described as a "rec room," because right now it's a wreck. In earlier times, it's been a lounge, a home theater (I still haven't replaced the projector, or the water-damaged sheetrock to which it was once attached), my computer area, a meditation place, and a gaming space, but right now it's kind of everything and I don't use it much. The rec room is covered with stuff right now, mostly belonging to my housemate, including her two guinea pigs who are very cute but kind of a mess. Right off of that is the downstairs bathroom, and it also has a door to the patio. The patio has collected stuff, but only waterproof stuff because the deck above it is porous. Upstairs is more bedrooms, one of which is mine; the other two are a guest bedroom and my office. All three are chock-full of stuff. There's a bathroom, a kitchen, and a space off the kitchen which I suspect was intended as a living room but now contains a really nice, sturdy dining table, which I mostly just use to sit my laptop on because the office is full of stuff. The bathroom, oddly, doesn't contain much stuff, except the cabinet could use some organizing. The kitchen has a door that opens up onto the aforementioned deck, which is badly in need of replacement before it collapses, but I've contracted with a guy to do that. Supposedly he'll get to it next year. The replacement won't be porous, so the patio might actually be mostly dry when it rains. The deck has a bunch of stuff on it. The kitchen has a bunch of stuff in it. The dining room is lined with bookshelves containing stuff. You try living in a place for a quarter of a century, with a changing cast of other characters, and not collect stuff. I don't know; maybe you could do it. I certainly can't. I've been taking some time every day to deal with the stuff, but it's a Sisyphean task. Hell, I don't even know how to dispose of a lot of the stuff. So I should buy a bigger house, right? Okay, no. Then I'd have to move all the stuff. Besides, like I said, I like it here; it's in stumbling distance of at least five drinking establishments, depending on what you consider stumbling distance. And like I said, I don't have a favorite room. Obviously I spend a third of the day in my bedroom, but I don't remember most of that time. The rest of the time I spend sitting on my deck with the laptop if the weather doesn't suck too badly, and that's not a room with a roof over my head, just a patio umbrella. When it's raining too hard, snowing, windy, or cold, I'll sit at the dining room table. But hey, I'm just glad to own my own home. Which leads me to the other prompt (you knew I had to get to it eventually). My knee-jerk response to "What do you absolutely NOT want for the holidays this year?" is of course Trump Mumps, but that's way too obvious. The actual answer is "anything" because... dammit... I have enough stuff. But, you know, there's always room on my new Kindle... and there is that distressingly empty spot in my liquor cabinet... |
| I'm adding in some prompts from "JAFBG" [XGC] for now, because December. "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" [13+]:2. Today is National Fritters Day! Write about your fave and if you haven't had fritters, would you like to try one? "JAFBG" [XGC]:What is the most overrated holiday movie of all time? What should people watch instead? Every holiday movie is overrated. Yes, even that one. That one, too. All of them. Which doesn't mean they all suck, exactly, but way too much sentimentality is attached to all of them, beyond their worth as stories. They achieve an unwarranted mythological status; hence, the overrated bit. But right now, and for the last oh, 40 years or so, I've considered the most overrated holiday movie to be Rudolph. I ranted about that animated piece of drivel way back in 2007, and since then, I've seen these sentiments echoed elsewhere on the internet. I'm not saying people have copied off of me; I don't have that kind of reach. But it annoys me that something that I invented, this way of looking at a certain crimson-schnozzed reindeer, was popularized by someone else. I mean, it's like, way back in the 80s I invented a trick at fraternity parties where I'd hold two solo cups full of beer in each hand -- okay, it wasn't what I'd call beer these days, but I thought it was in my youth -- and let the sparkling amber contents fountain from cup to cup to cup to cup, eventually reaching my eager lips. I mention the beer cascade thing because a few years back, I saw a picture of someone doing this with a caption like THIS MAN IS A GOD AMONG MEN and I got really pissed off because I INVENTED THE BEER CASCADE DAMMIT. Pant. Pant. Pant. Deep breath. Okay, moving on. Where was I? Right, Rudolph. Here's the original Rudolph Rant in all its glory, rated GC for dirty words:
Now, I'm not entirely immune to feeling joy during the holiday season; it's just that everything about it, not just the movies, is overrated. But there are things I like about it too. One of them is a tradition I've had for the last, oh, must be nearly 15 years now, which was to go to a friend's house every December and attend their holiday party, which celebrates Hanukkah and Christmas. As a kid, I celebrated Hanukkah, and there was one part of that holiday I enjoyed above all else. Okay, above all else except all the presents. I'm talking, of course, about latkes. And my friend makes a mean latke. It was easy at first, because they lived in the Northeast, a quick drive or train ride away. Then they upped and moved to California, which is a little harder for me to get to, but I managed. Every. Year. Until... of course... this fucking year. So it falls to me to make my own latkes for once. When I was a kid, we cheated and used store-bought latke mix because my mother, who was a wonderful person in many ways, was a ridiculously terrible cook. This year, I found a recipe that looks promising, although it also looks like a lot of work, and we all know how I feel about work. For latkes, though... it might just be worth it. Right now a bunch of you have either already googled it, or are asking "wtf is a latke?" Well, I'm here to enlighten. Latkes are like fritters: vegetables shredded and mushed together and fried. Historically, whatever vegetables were available were used: carrots, parsnips, turnips, whatever. Jews in ghettos in Europe couldn't exactly be picky. Nowadays, the go-to vegetable for latkes is the potato, which, well, to be fair, didn't exist in Europe for a long time, but once it did, boy did Europeans take over that shit. Anyway, basically you shred the potatoes, mix in some onions and seasonings, and fry those suckers up in a quarter-inch of oil. The oil is important, see, because it symbolizes the oil in the lamp in the temple where the Hanukkah miracle happened. (Everything symbolizes something. Metaphors are fun!) But it's also important because it's not a latke unless it's fried. None of this healthy vegan namby-pamby air-fry bullshit. FRIED. IN OIL. ONLY. Lots of cultures have similar things, like pakora in India for example, one of my favorite fried foods. Hell, Japanese tempura can be considered in the same class or family of culinary creations. I mean, really, who hasn't had fritters of one sort or another? Unfortunately, I won't have the ingredients for any of them today, so I can't celebrate National Fritters Day as the gods intended. I guess I'll just have to watch a movie instead, though not a holiday one. Yeah, yeah, I know, latkes aren't technically fritters. So what? I say they count, and I INVENTED THE BEER CASCADE. If you're not careful I will explain exactly why a hot dog isn't a sandwich. Oh, and the one holiday movie that's less overrated than all the others? Die Hard, of course. Yippie-ki-yay. |
| I don't usually participate in the 30DBC Unofficial Months. If you've been following me for a while, you might recall I tried at one point but it just wasn't working for me. But this month seems to have a bit of a different format, so let's give this a shot. This could be fun. 1. Today is Eat A Red Apple Day. Your entry should be inspired by red apples. So here are some facts about apples: 1. "Apple" was originally a generic word for "fruit." The French equivalent word, "pomme," was also a generic word for fruit, hence "pomme de terre" for potato ("fruit of the ground") and "pomegranate" ("fruit that's as hard as a fucking rock"). 2. Apple, Inc, formerly Apple Computers, formerly "that thing Steve's cluttering the garage with can you ask him to move his stuff?" wasn't named after the fruit but after the Beatles' record company of the same name. Hence one of the early Apple computer's names, the Macintosh, which is named after a common raincoat from Liverpool. 3. An apple invented gravity. It is not known whether this apple was red or green, but at relativistic velocities it doesn't matter. 4. Johnny Appleseed is credited with introducing apples into North America, where they became an invasive species and had to be eradicated by planting kudzu. 5. Contrary to popular belief, it was not an apple that Eve ate, but rather a banana. When Adam saw this, he got Ideas and God got Angry. 6. The botanical binomial of the commonly cultivated apple tree is Malus Domestica, which four years of Latin classes taught me means "Bad Servant." Apparently nobles used to throw apples at their peons who were misbehaving. 7. When an apple is cut up for making apple pie, it generally loses its a-peel. 8. New York City is called the Big Apple because Dutch merchants traded a big apple for Manhattan Island. Later, the English took it over and corrected the spelling from "Appel." 9. Red apples get their coloration from the blood of the sacrifice victim buried under the tree's roots. 10. It's said that "an apple a day keeps the doctor away." I don't know how true this is, but I keep a few by the door to fend off roving bands of surgeons. |
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