Where The Hell Is Bill?

Well, maybe he went to get a sideways haircut
Maybe he went to get a stri-pehd shirt
Maybe he went to get some plastic shoes
Maybe he went to get some funny sunglasses

Where, where the Hell is Bill?

Well, maybe he went to get an Air Force parka
Maybe he went to get a Vespa scooter
Maybe he went to get a British flag
Maybe he went to go Mod Ska dancing

Where, where the Hell is Bill?

Well, maybe he went to get a mohawk
And maybe he went to get some gnarly thrash boots
Maybe he went to go ride his skateboard
Maybe he went to see the Circle Jerks

Where, where the Hell is Bill?
Where, where the Hell is Bill?
Where, where the Hell is Bill?
Where, where the Hell is Bill?

An Open, Non-Humorous Letter to Johnny Depp


Hi, Mr. Depp. I can’t imagine how you stumbled upon this page, but I am glad you did.

I have loved all the movies I have seen by Roman Polanksi, and The Ninth Gate is no exception.

Since as an actor I imagine you probably have some degree of empathy for the characters you play, I wanted to ask you some questions about the ending of the movie.

How do you feel about the fate of your character?

Where is the character going?

What is the character becoming?

Is the ending positive, negative, neither?

What does the ending say about the character’s journey from a cynical bookseller to … something else?

I’m not so much interested in the physicality or mechanics regarding where the character is now, more interested from a spiritual, metaphorical perspective.

Anyone that is not Johnny Depp, please also feel free to put in your two cents.

For the record, I liked the ending.

More Stiglets

Hi, more Stiglets for your reading pleasure.

I’m not supplying audio for these, but I think you get the drift.

douchebag – doochbag
Thank you, previous user of my IP address!

vitiligo – winnebago
“archipelago” is also an acceptable alternative. A friend of my wife has this. I could never remember what it was called, so I just started saying “winnebago”.

Dilaudid – dubadill
Someone I know was in the hospital on this medication. I actually was calling this “dubadill” seriously — I had a mental block preventing me from using the right word. But, hey, it’s a stupid pharmaceutical name, why the hell should I be able to remember it?

How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Blogger’s Hyperbola

Over the last few weeks I have come to the realization that life on the blogger’s hyperbola isn’t so bad.

I’m now at peace with, in fact somewhat excited by, the fact that I am writing via a mechanism that is not only occupying space, but is also moving through time.

On what I have done with my website, many of the things I have written are really more of the moment. When one puts up a non-blog webpage, it seems to gain some sort of timeless permanence, which is somewhat unearned if you never update it.

I have a page devoted to Chicago’s lovely Hooker Motels like The Stars. A couple months ago, the new owner of The Stars contacted me and asked if I wanted to take some pictures before he knocked it down and built some condos. I went with my friend Tim to take some pictures. I even uploaded them, but have yet to create a link from the The Stars main page on my site to these new pictures, or even indicate that The Stars is now closed.

I did a series of movie reviews at a neighborhood cheap theater, but the last review was done in January 28, 2001(!) The new owner of the Davis contacted me a year or so ago to ask me to take down my webpage, because my page was coming up higher in Google than his page, and it was somewhat critical of the conditions there. I never took my pages down, mostly due to laziness (maybe a little pissiness was in there, too).

And, my Currently Spinning page? Well, it’s current for September of 2000.

If these pages were part of a blog, they could slowly fade into my archives, and I wouldn’t feel guilty that I wasn’t keeping them current. Looking at many of the pages on my site, they would be better served by a blog than a regular webpage.

And if there really is something I want to not fade away, I could take a cue from Samurai Frog, who creates posts summing up a particular topic and then creates a link to these metaposts from his main page. I actually read a lot of his older stuff as a result of his linkage.

So, what I am trying to say is, fellow denizens of the blogger’s hyperbola, I salute you.

The Velveteen Cockroach

Take an impending bug invasion, and reading bedtime stories to my kids, and what do you get?

Synergy, baby.


There was once a velveteen cockroach, and he was really splendid. He was brown and blotchy, with long feelers and skinny little legs. On Christmas morning, he sat wedged in the bottom of Boy’s stocking. He was a gag gift from Boy’s weird uncle.

There were other things in the stocking, nuts and oranges, a toy engine and a velveteen rabbit, but the cockroach was the best of all.

But Boy thought the cockroach was ugly, and dropped him in his toy box. Boy played with Rabbit for two hours. Then Aunts and Uncles came to dinner, and the cockroach and the rabbit were forgotten.

For a long time, the cockroach lived in the toy box. He was naturally shy, and being a cockroach, all the other toys shunned him, especially Rabbit. Even the toy horse, who was usually nice to everyone, wouldn’t talk or look at him.

One day, the Rabbit asked the horse, “What is REAL?”

The horse said, “When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

One evening, when the Boy was going to bed, he couldn’t find the dog that always slept with him. Nana was in a hurry, and grabbed Rabbit for Boy from the toy box.

“Here,” she said. “Take this bunny. You can sleep with him.” And she put Rabbit in Boy’s arms.

Nana also saw Cockroach. “What a disgusting toy,” she thought to herself. She took him and threw him in the trash outside. Nana did not see that Cockroach bounced out of the trash onto the dirty ground.

Boy and Rabbit grew very close. They did everything together. Sometimes they would walk past Cockroach, who was getting dirtier and dirtier, and was very, very sad.

As time went on, and Rabbit was very happy, he didn’t notice his fur getting shabbier and shabbier. For the cockroach, who still lay on the dirty ground, sadness gave way to hate.

One day the boy grew very ill. Nana took the rabbit because the doctor said it was full of germs, and threw it in the garbage when Boy was sleeping.

Cockroach looked at Rabbit. In a dirty leg he picked up a tiny shard of glass. Cockroach crept toward Rabbit, who was starting to cry because he missed Boy.

With a quick slash, Cockroach sliced Rabbit from his neck to his tummy.

“Barrgggghhhhhhhh!” said Rabbit. He was dead.

Cockroach grabbed Rabbit’s carcass and pulled it over his insect body. As Rabbit’s pelt settled onto Cockroach’s head and back, a tear dripped from Rabbit’s fur on to the dirty ground.

From where the tear fell on the ground, a mysterious flower grew. A blossom opened and a lovely fairy stepped out.

“Do you know who I am, little bunny?” she asked.

Cockroach was quiet.

“I am the toy fairy,” she said. “I take care of toys that children have loved. When they are old and worn and the children don’t need them any more, I make them Real.”

“You were Real to the Boy,” the Fairy said, “because he loved you. Now you shall be Real to every one.”

She waved her wand, and in a flash, Cockroach was real!

“What the?” the toy fairy said. “Rabbit? Rabbit? Hmm. This usually works.” Fairy shrugged her shoulders and disappeared in a shower of sparkles.

Autumn passed and Winter, and in the Spring, when the days grew warm and sunny, boy was in his kitchen.

“Agh!” Nana cried. “A cockroach!”

Boy grabbed a dictionary and smashed the bug into goo.

But he never knew that it really was his own Cockroach, come back to look at the child who had first helped him to be Real.

THE END

Cicada In The Hole!


For those in the Chicago area, look forward to being blessed with many, many bugs in the very near future.

From the Chicago Sun Times:

Those planning weddings or family reunions this spring may want to watch out for May 22.

That’s the date, a prominent cicada researcher is estimating, that the little red-eyed bugs will emerge in the Chicago area. Specifically, the evening of May 21 and early morning hours of May 22.

Some may emerge a few days earlier and some stragglers may crawl from the ground a bit later depending on sunshine and shade, but the May day is “the big day,” said Gene Kritsky, an entomologist and author of several bug books, including Periodical Cicadas: The Plague and the Puzzle.

More here.

Arcade Quiz Answers (He’s Got A Gun!)

Answers for the third(!) quiz!

For heaven’s sakes, don’t look at the answers before you sample the questions.

Gun 1 – Berzerk


One of the first games to use voice synthesis. Definitely the first game to use voice synthesis to say “Chicken! Fight like a robot!”

Gun 2 – Wizard Of Wor


What, you say this game is visually similar to Gorf? Why, how observant of you. It was created by the same company, after all.

Gun 3 – Elevator Action


I know, I know, it don’t look like much. But this game is awesome with a capital ‘awe’. Take a look at me killing a guy with my ass. Suh-weet!

Gun 4 – Rolling Thunder


A very enjoyable game. Lots of jumping, hopping through stacks of tires, going in and out of doors, and, above all, killing people with your gun.

Gun 5 – Narc


A pretty darned violent game. The bad guys spew blood as you fill them with hot lead. You can also cause a shower of body parts with a shot from your trusty rocket launcher. You can even shoot vicious dogs!

I’m guessing that the background visuals in this game originated from pictures taken in and around the Chicago area, though the game designers played a little fast and loose with the pictures once they were digitized.

Note the background in the picture is the Addison stop of the Red Line. This is the stop right next to Wrigley Field, and, unlike how it is portrayed in the game, is not an underground stop.

Another little thing to note —

see how the Addison sign says “B Station” — the Red Line used to have “A” and “B” trains and “A” and “B” stops, supposedly to improve the speed of the train service. This was discontinued about a decade ago.

Next (and potentially last) quiz… mano-a-mano!

Screw Punctuation "Rules".

According to The Blue Book of Grammar and Education:

**************************************************************************

Rule 1: Periods and commas always go inside quotation marks, even inside single quotes.

Examples:
The sign changed from “Walk,” to “Don’t Walk,” to “Walk” again within 30 seconds.
She said, “Hurry up.”
She said, “He said, ‘Hurry up.'”

**************************************************************************

First off, it’s nice to see the Blue Book people finally branch out from the used car market.

Secondly, I have been aware of this rule for a long time, but I just can’t stomach it in certain circumstances.

He said, “Have a nice day.”

Okay, the above sentence makes sense — I don’t mind having the period inside the quote.

The problem, however, was his definition of “nice.”

Agh! I hate it! Why is that period in the quote? The quotation marks are acting on the word! Not the sentence! Punctuation, get out of my quotes!

The problem, however, was his definition of “nice”.

Ah, my rage is receding.

I’m just announcing here, that I am not abiding by this rule foisted upon us by unaccountable grammarians!

Screw you, “jerks”!