Because Sunday is Also Cheese Day

Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.
~ G. K. Chesterton

Do you accept one true cheese? If you want to discover the one true cheese you can start by checking out the Wikipedia cheese disambiguation page.

If you prefer a pantheon of cheeses you can request the Wisconsin Cheese Variety Guide.

I'm painting today. It's possible that the fumes got to me...

Wherein Subspace is Appreciated for Her Bloggy Goodness, Even Though She Accuses Wil Wheaton of Being a Total Jock

In case you for some reason read TTGSiMH and not The Bean Mines, I will catch you up on recent events. Subspace totally dissed Wil Wheaton, I asked her to cut him a break, and she decided no, really, she wouldn't. The upshot is that I accept her position and we won't be doing any Jell-O wrasslin' in Ohio, Virginia, or points inbetween. (Although that would be a heckuva tour.)

Since Subspace was nice enough to call my comment, "as usual well-written, thoughtful and articulate" I figure I should return the love.

Subspace is one of my favorite writers. I anxiously await the day when she will publish a novel or start a serious series of observational essays. She has the dry wit of Russell Baker*, the absurdist sensibilities of Douglas Adams, and the soaring imagination of, well, Subspace. I say, with utter sincerity and in a way that only we science fiction geeks can understand, she is my kind of scum. Her turn of phrase is clever, her use of metaphor original, and her perspective on life is both unique and refreshing.

Carry on, Subspace. We may not agree about Wil Wheaton but I can get over that. And if he comes over to play Zombies I will totally invite you.

* For those who don't know Russell Baker, he wrote a column for the Washington Post for many years. He also hosted "Masterpiece Theatere" for twelve years. I think I own all of his books. Some fun Baker quotes so you can see if they remind you of Subspace's wry take on things:

“I gave up on new poetry myself 30 years ago when most of it began to read like coded messages passing between lonely aliens in a hostile world.”

“So there he is at last. Man on the moon. The poor magnificent bungler! He can't even get to the office without undergoing the agonies of the damned, but give him a little metal, a few chemicals, some wire and twenty or thirty billion dollars and, vroom!”

“A railroad station? That was sort of a primitive airport, only you didn't have to take a cab 20 miles out of town to reach it.”

“Inanimate objects are classified scientifically into three major categories - those that don't work, those that break down and those that get lost.”

Frantic

You Are Running on 91% Adrenaline

Your Adrenaline Level: Very Dangerous Life is passing you by so quickly, you hardly can notice what's going on. You definitely need to slow down before you crash hard!

Are You Running

Put On a Little Mood Music...

One of the best things about blogging is being able to share cool stuff with your friends and a million strangers. If you haven't tried Musicovery then you probably haven't had any fun yet this week.

Apparently my happy place is way over in the bottom left corner. Very dark. Very calm.

how jedi are you? :: by lawrie malen

Well, at least the information in R2 is still intact.

I was on Master Replicas looking for the latest Han Solo blaster when I stumbled on this story. R2D2 mailboxes!?!?!?! And the Post Office has a promo at uspsjedimaster.com.

The US Post Office gets major, major, major geek points for this. I can't find anything on the official USPS website, but even if it's an internet prank they need to pay attention to the fact that we're all excited about it. And I want collectible Star Wars stamps!!!

You can find other reports at TheForce.Net and GizModo. Some of the news articles point out that stealing a federal mailbox is a federal offense. So, you know, don't. But if the USPS sold them on eBay at the end of the year I bet they could cover their budget for quite a while...

Faith and Begorra!

You're 65% Irish

You're very Irish, and most likely from Ireland. (And if you're not, you should be!)

How Irish Are You?

No Surprises Here

You Are 89% Burned Out

You are extremely burned out. You work too hard, and you're not getting the results you deserve. It's time for a life change, as soon as you can manage it. You're giving away most of your energy to something you don't even enjoy.

Are You Burned Out?

You Are 0% Homophobic

You're open minded, tolerant, and accepting. And you're not homophobic in the least :-)

Are You Homophobic?

Gimmee Five

It's been a long time since I've been tagged with a meme, so I'd just like to thank the Academy... :) Alright, I'd at least like to thank StealthBadger for tagging me.

The meme is 5 for Feminism: what five things can I think of that I have feminism to thank for. I found this to be interesting because I don't tend to be a feminist per se, more of an individualist. But I'm not a complete idiot. Going all the way back to the suffragettes, five things I can thank feminism for:

1. My vote. It took a lot of effort to ensure that women got the right to vote. I appreciate the efforts on my behalf.

2. My education. Previous generations didn't really have co-ed education and women's options were pretty much restricted to nursing and teaching. I was able to study business.

3. My job. Even just twenty years before I started my career it would have been almost impossible for a female to have it. I've never really dealt with sexism in the office and have never felt that my gender impacted my income or job assignments.

4. My opportunities. I am confident that if I hadn't pursued my current path there were plenty of other options available to me. Excellent professional opportunities that would have held my interest and given me a sense of satisfaction. I know that, personally, home making, nursing and teaching would not be on that list so I'm very lucky to not be expected to love those options (like my mother's generation was).

5. Not having to worry about the other four.

I also found this great list about women who have done so much to contribute to the world we enjoy.

Wednesday is Writing Day

When I bust out on Subspace's blog about fantasy books I seemed to take her a bit by surprise. Since it's writing Wednesday I thought I'd share a little jot of my fantasy fiction. Just enough to tickle without, hopefully, boring the crud out of you. There is more of this story in a notebook somewhere. Meanwhile, may I introduce Finley...

Beauty's Beast

Finley bustled around the table making last minute changes to his preparations. The dishes were laid out just so, the fresh flowers tilting elegantly in a golden vase. Wrapping his long silver and purple-scaled tail around him, he nibbled on the tip and fretted.

“Have I forgotten anything? Flowers, food, candles…..” He leaned forward and with a gentle breath lighted the candles.

“Oracle, she will be here soon, like you said, right?”

The delicate white light bobbed near Finley. “She will be here, as I predicted. In moments you will be able to see her from the mouth of your cave.”

“Moments? Oh my, oh dear.” Finley wrapped his tail around him twice and stared at the table setting intensely. Giving up, he streaked toward the cave entrance. His talons made a faint scratching sound on the rocks as he scrambled through a particularly tight spot.

“Where, where should I look?”

The Oracle had bobbed along at a more sedate pace and took up its position near Finley. “To the East, of course. New love always rises from the East.”

As promised, within a few moments a figure could be seen on the eastern ridge. Then two, then four figures.

“She travels with a group,” Finley reported to the gently glowing light while his soft leathery wings quivered in anticipation.

“That is to be expected.”

“Oh, I see her! She is lovely. Dark hair and a white flowing gown.”

“No,” replied the Oracle, “that’s not her.”

Finley peered more intently. “Well there is another. Fiery red hair and green garb. She reminds me of a wood sprite.” He suddenly seemed taken with the idea.

“No,” replied the Oracle, “look further.”

Finley’s brow furrowed. “The other two appear to be lads. A tall strapping fellow with dark hair and another lean one with dirty fair hair and a chest of plate mail.”

“Ah,” said the Oracle on a contented sigh. “She is come.”

“WHAT?” Finley looked at the Oracle in disbelief, and then rolled over on the ground covering his eyes with clawed feet.

The Oracle sniffed and said, "I would think you would be more grateful for a chance at true love."

Finley kept his eyes squeezed closed and asked, "Just tell me, which one is she?"

"The fair one, of course. The other really is a lad."

Finley flapped his arms out against the rocks and exhaled in a long, slow sigh that left his shiny, scaly body stretched flat.

"She's so…" He waved his front paw in the air. When nothing came to him he propped himself up on an elbow and looked out at the slowly approaching humans. "Unrefined."

The Oracle made that faint, buzzing sound that it did whenever it was irritated. "I would think that you of all creatures would be hesitant to make judgments at first sight."

Finley sprang to his feet again. "What? Me? Look at these scales. Check between. Do you see a mite? Dust? Dirt?"

"You think that the first thing she will notice about you is how clean your scales are?"

Finley sat and wrapped his tail around his feet regally. "Breeding shows in how one cares for and carries oneself."

The two sat in silence at the cave mouth for a bit. Finley broke the silence with, "Why do they travel together?"

"They are heroes," the Oracle replied.

"Oh."

Silence followed. Then Finley asked, "What do they quest for?"

"A horrible monster that lives in these mountains and carries children and calves off to be slaughtered."

Finley snorted. "I know every creature up here. There isn't such a thing about."

"The villagers tell stories of such a creature. It is blamed for droughts, missing livestock - most all of the ills that befall man."

"Do they call this creature by a name?"

"Yes," replied the Oracle. "Dragon."

"Dragon!" Finley sputtered. "Dragon! This is preposterous. Outrageous!" He began to pace. "Why, they… How could…" He stopped abruptly and his brow furrowed into a menacing line. "This is slander!"

What would their kid be named? Dark Humor?

My husband and I took the Super Villian test. Anyone who knows us shouldn't be surprised by these results.
My results:
You are Dark Phoenix
(Tied with the Riddler, actually. Lex Luthor was the runner up.)
A prime example of emotional extremes: Passion and fury incarnate.



Click here to take the Supervillain Personality Quiz

My husband's results:
You are The Joker
(Runner ups were Venom and Dr. Doom.)
The Clown Prince of Crime. You are a brilliant mastermind but are criminally insane. You love to joke around while accomplishing the task at hand.



Click here to take the Super Villain Personality Test

Well, That's a Relief

You Will Be a Cool Parent

You seem to naturally know a lot about parenting, and you know what kids need. You can tell when it's time to let kids off the hook, and when it's time to lay down the law. While your parenting is modern and hip, it's not over the top. You know that there's nothing cool about a parent who acts like a teenager... or a drill sergeant!

Would You Be a Cool Parent?