Month: April 2007

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Sixteen more wins!

It seems that the Buffalo Sabres are pretty good. Lots of people seem to think that this might be their year.

Seriously, this is the most excited I’ve seen Buffalo about a sports team ever. I can’t really compare this level of excitement to the Bills’ run of four straight Super Bowl appearances, because for the first three of those, I wasn’t in Buffalo during the playoff runs. I was in college, in Iowa. So the Super Bowl run was a big deal for me, but in a different way; the Bills at that point were my main reminder of home, the way I “spiritually” kept in touch with Western New York. Those teams are special to me for that very reason. For three years I would watch the Bills play at Rich Stadium and say, “That’s my home.”

(I was back in the area for the last of the Super Bowl runs, but by that time the excitement didn’t quite seem as real. I’m not sure that anybody really expected the Bills to be able to beat Dallas in that game; we were happy just to get back for the fourth time in a row, something nobody else has ever done. The iconic image of the fourth time was the guys at the stadium who brought the sign reading, “We’re Back! Deal with it, America”.)

So I can’t say that the excitement surrounding the Sabres this year is similar to the Bills’ run. Maybe it’s more exciting, maybe it’s the same. I suspect that it’s most like the 1990 Bills run, which was the first of the Super Bowl appearances — that was when it most felt like they were on the cusp of winning it all. And that’s the feeling right now, that this is it, and that when this set of games is over, we’ll all know what it feels like to live where the local team really has won it all. Let me tell you, folks: I personally have never felt this pervasive a sense of optimism around these parts, about anything. That means something. We Buffalonians are a hearty bunch, but optimism doesn’t tend to be our strong suit. We tend to be the chip-on-our-shoulders types, the ones who find it advisable to give The Fates the finger before they give us the shaft.

But right now? None of that applies. It’s a new season, and the team that wins sixteen games wins the Stanley Cup. So go Sabres, and get those sixteen W’s. And to everyone else watching, this is the city of chicken wings, beef-on-weck, Sahlen’s hot dogs, and Labatt’s beer. When they win that Cup, we’re going to throw a party for the Ages. The kind of party that Homer would have composed a 6,000 line poem about.

Go Sabres!

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Vonnegut

Of all the authors out there whose work I have to admit to never having read at all, Kurt Vonnegut is probably the one of whom I’m most embarrassed to say that I’ve never read. And when I say I’ve never read him, I mean it — not a single word, to the best of my knowledge. This bothers me because plenty of people whose judgment I trust on such topics speak very highly of Vonnegut.

So I’ll read him, OK? Someday.

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Paging Dr. Wertham

Apparently there’s some kind of discussion going on about a “Blogger’s Code of Conduct” somewhere. I didn’t know about it because I didn’t hear about it until John Scalzi wrote about it in a response that basically boils down to “Yeah, whatever.” (Like the title of his blog!)

Anyhow, my take is pretty much the same as his: this is my blog, and I’ll make the rules here. (Which, by the way, can be found here.)

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Sentential Links #94 (the Aaron Schobel Edition)

Yup, we’re at #94 in Sentential Links, thus arriving at the number currently worn by Bills defensive end Aaron Schobel. Yes, you care.

:: Not to wish ill on anybody but this is the kind of headline that would lead to hours of one-liners in a sitcom writing room.

:: Instead, I’ll just note that the dude died at his drawing board. That’s hardcore.

:: It’s magical, this Surge; no matter what happens, the evidence demonstrates that the Surge is working. It can’t fail! Any behavior taken by anyone in Iraq is a positive by-product of the Surge.

:: As we move through Holy Week I’ve thought a lot about scars….

:: Prediction? The lawsuits fail, but they drain so much money from the plan that they’ll have to scrap the pretty replica of the 19th century buildings and we’ll get a big box after all. How’d that be for karmic irony?

:: What the world really needs is more space opera. (Amen! And why is Joss Whedon doing a Buffy comic book, when the world needs more Firefly? Aieee!)

:: I love Howard the Duck. There, now it’s out there. I love it.

:: This review sort of sums up the very essence of the debate with Halo zealots that I’ve witnessed over the years, and perfectly distills the very nature of the exchange.

More next week, as always. They just keep coming….

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Sunday Burst of Weirdness

Probably the weirdest thing ever:

After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb.

There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men.

The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.’ Now I have told you.”

So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them. “Greetings,” he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

Whether one believes or not, that whole thing certainly fits the definition of “weirdness”. Either one believes, in which case the Son of God came back from the dead; or one does not, in which case a man claiming to be the Son of God did not come back from the dead but still inspired billions of people over two thousand years to believe that he did.

What do I believe? I just don’t know yet. I may not figure it out in this lifetime.

Anyway, Happy Easter, everyone.

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Easter follies

I was charged with the task of acquiring candy for The Daughter’s Easter basket, which was easy enough — a box of those awful Peeps things, an egg-shaped plastic doodad filled with Hershey Kisses, and some jelly beans.

But not just any jelly beans, mind you. No, I had to indulge her enjoyment of All Things Harry Potter and get her the box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, which according to the box contain beans of flavors like grass, soap, bacon, rotten egg, vomit, and booger. “Never fear!” thought I. “I’m sure those are fake names for beans that taste like normal old jelly beans.”

Not so.

“Alas, ear wax!” Dumbledore said once when trying a bean. Alas, ear wax, indeed.

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The New Space Opera


The New Space Opera, originally uploaded by Jonathan Strahan.

That cover sets the bar pretty high, eh? I like my SF with BIG EFFIN’ STARSHIPS. So that cover indicates BIG EFFIN’ STARSHIPS. Therefore, bring on the tales about stuff that happens in and around BIG EFFIN’ STARSHIPS!

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That’s quite the headscratcher….

As of this writing, we’re watching the news on Channel 7 while we wait for the load of laundry to dry. They’re reporting on a guy who brought a handgun with him into the Seneca Niagara Casino in Niagara Falls, which he then used right on the gaming floor to commit suicide. And the angle Channel 7 keeps using the angle on their coverage of “How could this man possibly bring a gun into the Casino!!!”

The Casino spokesperson indicates that they have security personnel stationed about the place [Duh! Show me a casino that has no security personnel on the gaming floor, anywhere!], they have surveillance cameras, and — this cracked me up — they have a sign prominently posted at all entrances indicating that firearms are not permitted!

Well, I’m baffled too, then, because once you put up a sign forbidding Behavior X, Behavior X is never a problem again. That’s why nobody exceeds the speed limits on the highways! It all fits! I’ll bet that the key to Peace in the Middle East would simply be to plaster the entire region with signage reading, “Blowing shit up is expressly forbidden by law.”

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All your egg are belong to us!

Here’s something I didn’t know: every year for the Annual White House Easter Egg Hunt, each state sends its own decorated egg for use in the event. Here are a few that amused or entranced:

Alaska:

Iowa:

Maine:

New York:

(Not wild about that one myself, but hey, that’s my state.)

South Carolina:

(OK, maybe I’m dumb, but this one seems a little…Confederate-minded, in my eyes….)

And then there’s Wyoming’s egg, which wasn’t even done by a person who lives in Wyoming:

I’m sorry, but with all due respect, this is the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree of Easter Eggs. I try, but all I can do is laugh as I look at it.

Anyhow, there are your 2007 State Easter Eggs, folks!

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O for a problem that this solution would solve!

So I’ve been selling books on eBay lately (link to my auctions is over there in the sidebar). When I sell a book, I generally just slip it into a bubble-mailer, seal the envelope and tape it shut for good measure, and address it. Then I figure postage by weighing it on a kitchen scale (we have a nice digital one that does the job perfectly), and plug that weight into the form on USPS.com. Finally I simply slap on the number of stamps that will get the item there, and drop it in the mailbox at work.

Except apparently this will no longer work for heavier books, because I did not know that according to “heightened security measures”, if you’re mailing something that’s more than sixteen ounces, you are required to hand it to a retail clerk at a Post Office. In other words, no dropping items into the mailbox anymore.

So today a package of mine with a single book in it was actually returned to me, with a note attached explaining all this. Now I have to take this package to the post office tomorrow and hand it to the clerk, whereupon we will have the following conversation:

CLERK: Is there anything liquid or perishable in here, sir?

ME: No. It’s a book.

CLERK: Any insurance of verification of delivery?

ME: No, thank you.

CLERK: OK. [puts package onto the pile of outgoing stuff] Need any stamps?

ME: Got any of those Star Wars stamps?

CLERK: No, but we have the Great Moments in Frozen Food series.

ME: OK, fine.

CLERK: Have a nice day.

That’s all that will happen. Believe me, I’ve mailed enough books through the years that I know whereof I speak. So how is this in any way to help with “security”? It’s not like the mail clerks are going to assess my package for its potential bad-stuff-containing possibilities right then and there; surely the package will be scanned at some point in the mail-handling process, but as all the mail ends up at the same place eventually before being redistributed again, who cares? How will any of this prevent someone from hollowing out the pages of a book, Andy Dufresne-style, and mailing nefarious items that way?

This is a stupid, stupid rule.

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