Hey everyone, I have an announcement: I am going to stop keeping up Fear and Trembling in Augusta because I no longer live there. I was also never an especially big fan of Hunter S. Thompson. My wife (!) and I just moved to Charleston, SC, and the other blog just doesn't seem appropriate any longer. Dr. Sighted is starting residency, so hopefully I will have more time to keep up this space. I am also no longer writing for a paper or preparing Sunday School lessons, so I need to write somehow, right? I will also rescind my earlier promise of no politics in this space -- my vision for the future is that any topic is fair game here, from movies, to politics, my favorite chilis, religious themes (like in Fear and Trembling) but with a little less formality. I promise there will still be jokes, but I cannot promise they will still be funny.
I also noticed that I have a giant pile of spam comments, and some posts are more popular than others. This one has 35 comments on it, which is slightly higher than my previous high of like 4. I'm pretty sure I would have to post on some sort of controversy like we should execute all double parkers by hanging. I don't know if the uptick in spammers is representative of a an uptick in traffic, which would be swell, (I did notice an upswing in followers -- Hello new folks) but it's still troubling. It might require me to activate some sort of interceptor to keep odzwyki from posting about about how to buy pharmaceuticals from China in weird broken English. My favorite is the insincere flattery (is there any other kind?) about how smart and great my blog is -- while I love having my ego stroked, when they say "I imagine you have a excellent information in particular while dealings with these kinds of topics" it kind of takes some of the vim out of it when it's not actually whether they can read it, let alone did. But why my blog? How many of you readers are out there?
Let me know with comments. Coherent is preferable, but not technically required.
Showing posts with label international jokes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label international jokes. Show all posts
Sunday, July 03, 2011
Friday, March 13, 2009
I like the Irish. Not Notre Dame.
It was in high school when I first started to think about what islands of white people my family came from way back when. Of course, like everyone else in the southeast, Britain and Ireland were the primary culprits. I was prompted to look into it because there were a lot of people in my high school whose parents were born in India but they had never seen the place and still managed to feel and act more Indian than American. Don't get me a wrong, there were a lot of awesome Indian people too, but there were some who would only hang with other Indian folks, which strikes me as, well, I don't want to say racist, but a little bit racist.
This coming week is, of course, the holiday for people who like to pretend they're Irish. I have never been to Ireland and my last name is English, but there are Irish people in my family tree and begorrah, I love it. The Irish are a jolly people, and I like being a part of that. There are primarily three things that Irish people are known for, and they're all fantastic. Indian people might have better food, but they sure don't have better booze.
This coming week is, of course, the holiday for people who like to pretend they're Irish. I have never been to Ireland and my last name is English, but there are Irish people in my family tree and begorrah, I love it. The Irish are a jolly people, and I like being a part of that. There are primarily three things that Irish people are known for, and they're all fantastic. Indian people might have better food, but they sure don't have better booze.
- Booze (Biotálle). Distillation came to Ireland from the Mediterranean by way of missionaries, according to wikipedia. How great is that? Missionaries! There's a saying that the Irish discovered whiskey and the Scottish perfected it. You know what I have to say about that? Ireland is independent and Scotland is still run from London. Eat that. Also, everyone loves Guinness. Americans learned to make their liquors when the Irish and Scottish came over and settled the South in the early colonial days. Good for them.
- Blessings (Beannachtaí). Everyone knows the "May the road always rise to meet you..." blessing. You may not have known is that there are like a thousand just like it, poetic and fun and cheery. For a people so historically miserable (not quite Polish or Jewish miserable, but certainly more so than the Canadians), most of what you see is very positive, like charming brogues, pots of gold and leprechauns, and excellent smelling soap. I suspect #1 has a hand in this attitude. My favorite is: May you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead.
- Blarney (An Bhlárna). It is a town, castle, rock and gift originating in County Cork. You might think it's just mumbo jumbo, but this community has been able to convince Americans to come to their town and spend good money in order bend over backwards to kiss a rock. If that isn't evidence of the gift of Blarney, I don't know what is. There is also a disproportionate presence of Irish writers in the English language, and I'd like to think that there's something in the blood, and I just have to activate that component of it by drinking Bushmills.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
It all just happens so fast
You know, the death of Anna Nicole Smith got me thinking earlier about Zinedine Zidane. The World Cup is such a strange event for us Americans, because it's so big and honestly, it's so dull. The problem is that the Zidane headbutt, while hilarious enough to transcend that insitutional cultural roadblock, would have probably been way hilariouser if we cared. I submit that we all missed out on the opportunity for some great jokes about this guy. But because we don't follow soccer, we, collectively as Americans, just wouldn't get them.
Now, Anna Nicole Smith has been the butt of jokes for pretty much as long as people knew her name. I don't think anybody expected her to die, and this may sound horrible, but I was just thinking about how we're not likely to hear about the absurdity of her television show anymore. We may have missed an opportunity to amuse ourselves with this cultural touchstone. I am a little bit horrified that I just referred to ANS as a cultural touchstone, but I guess she is. That's a pretty serious legacy, when you think about it. She was a Playboy Playmate who had a case go to the Supreme Court. I still haven't quite wrapped my head around that.
Opportunities are only so frequent, though. I've been thinking about that a lot, too, as I go to interviews and what not (although the what not is probably more personally important to all of us). There will probably be another crazy sports event soon -- after all, Terrell Owens is being coached by a guy that nobody's ever heard of, something bad is going to happen -- and there will be more celebrities who have no business being celebrities on the scene doing weird stuff. Whether it's a joke or a what not, don't hesitate to make that joke. Because this morning, I really wished I could use a photoshop picture of Zidane headbutting a kitten and have it be relevant somehow.
Now, Anna Nicole Smith has been the butt of jokes for pretty much as long as people knew her name. I don't think anybody expected her to die, and this may sound horrible, but I was just thinking about how we're not likely to hear about the absurdity of her television show anymore. We may have missed an opportunity to amuse ourselves with this cultural touchstone. I am a little bit horrified that I just referred to ANS as a cultural touchstone, but I guess she is. That's a pretty serious legacy, when you think about it. She was a Playboy Playmate who had a case go to the Supreme Court. I still haven't quite wrapped my head around that.
Opportunities are only so frequent, though. I've been thinking about that a lot, too, as I go to interviews and what not (although the what not is probably more personally important to all of us). There will probably be another crazy sports event soon -- after all, Terrell Owens is being coached by a guy that nobody's ever heard of, something bad is going to happen -- and there will be more celebrities who have no business being celebrities on the scene doing weird stuff. Whether it's a joke or a what not, don't hesitate to make that joke. Because this morning, I really wished I could use a photoshop picture of Zidane headbutting a kitten and have it be relevant somehow.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
I ate 3.14 slices of pie today
Today, as you are probably aware, was Thanksgiving. Unless you're in Canada, then it was sometime last month. But I'm not, and I ate turkey and mashed potatoes and stuffing today. It was glorious. I'm so glad we do this every year. It's really too bad that the whole being thankful part of Thanksgiving is so minimized. Because I'm definitely thankful for gravy. And pie.
For some reason, nearly 50% of the people who were in attendance of my family's Thanksgiving festivities brought a pie. Or two. Or in some cases, more. The highlight was my brother's chocolate cheesecake, which was pretty spectacular. To properly capture it's spectacularity in words, I would say it's like when you get the white Toad's house in Mario 3. There were other pies too, so many that I didn't even get the chance to get to the pecan, which is easily my favorite of the holiday pies. I know what you're thinking right now, "What about that lovable gourd, pumpkin? Surely you didn't forget that! There's even a Charlie Brown special about pumpkins!" And you'd be right, I didn't forget. I just hate them. Pumpkin pies seem to me as if they were created as an industrial alternative to giving soldiers real dessert in World War I. I understand that this is probably heretical to a lot of you, and I am at peace with that.
I didn't get to the pecan pie because there was also a key lime pie in attendance, which is my goto dessert for the non-holiday times. There was even a homemade graham cracker crust involved, and honestly, I don't need Christmas now. So, considering that, key lime won out over pecan, even though it was a holiday. We also had cherry and mince meat and probably another that I'm forgetting. Cherry is a fine pie, but it's no apple; mince meat was an interesting choice because nobody on earth aside from my grandfather actually likes it. The highlight of this particular dessert, though, was that there was a rather lengthy debate about what mince meat actually is. There was unanimous agreement that raisins and currants were involved, but the presence of actual meat was disputed. I fall within the pro-meat camp; but don't misinterpret that to mean that I think it's a good idea.
Oh, also, I was awoken this morning much earlier than I would have liked to the sound of Christmas music. This is particularly poignant because just yesterday my mom was complaining about the ubiquitous nature of Christmas music so early. I was pretty sure that tomorrow, the day after Thanksgiving, is the first day it's legal to play Christmas music. But I think I'll let the early waking thing slide, since she also made the key lime pie.
For some reason, nearly 50% of the people who were in attendance of my family's Thanksgiving festivities brought a pie. Or two. Or in some cases, more. The highlight was my brother's chocolate cheesecake, which was pretty spectacular. To properly capture it's spectacularity in words, I would say it's like when you get the white Toad's house in Mario 3. There were other pies too, so many that I didn't even get the chance to get to the pecan, which is easily my favorite of the holiday pies. I know what you're thinking right now, "What about that lovable gourd, pumpkin? Surely you didn't forget that! There's even a Charlie Brown special about pumpkins!" And you'd be right, I didn't forget. I just hate them. Pumpkin pies seem to me as if they were created as an industrial alternative to giving soldiers real dessert in World War I. I understand that this is probably heretical to a lot of you, and I am at peace with that.
I didn't get to the pecan pie because there was also a key lime pie in attendance, which is my goto dessert for the non-holiday times. There was even a homemade graham cracker crust involved, and honestly, I don't need Christmas now. So, considering that, key lime won out over pecan, even though it was a holiday. We also had cherry and mince meat and probably another that I'm forgetting. Cherry is a fine pie, but it's no apple; mince meat was an interesting choice because nobody on earth aside from my grandfather actually likes it. The highlight of this particular dessert, though, was that there was a rather lengthy debate about what mince meat actually is. There was unanimous agreement that raisins and currants were involved, but the presence of actual meat was disputed. I fall within the pro-meat camp; but don't misinterpret that to mean that I think it's a good idea.
Oh, also, I was awoken this morning much earlier than I would have liked to the sound of Christmas music. This is particularly poignant because just yesterday my mom was complaining about the ubiquitous nature of Christmas music so early. I was pretty sure that tomorrow, the day after Thanksgiving, is the first day it's legal to play Christmas music. But I think I'll let the early waking thing slide, since she also made the key lime pie.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Don't neglect the vents
Over the course of long drives, maintaining the delicate balance of the air conditioner can be tricky. This is especially true if it's cold or rainy outside, since the that causes the inside of the windshield to fog up. Alternating between face vent for comfort and defroster for being able to see stuff is a careful process, like maintaining the pH in a saltwater aquarium. But when you are worrying about comfort, I think that people underestimate the floor vents in their car. The conventional wisdom is to use the face-level vents to control the climate in the automobile because you feel it first. Also, people don't generally wear shoes on their face. I am here to tell you that the floor vents are not to be ignored.
This is especially true if you are driving with flip-flops. If you have warm air blowing over flip-flop shod feet it's akin to putting on socks fresh out of the dryer for the entire trip. That itself is worth consideration. It also slows down the rate at which the windshield will fog up on the inside, since it takes longer for the air to reach the windshield (or as they say in England, windscreen).
My AC has like 12 divisions on the temperature dial and the standard 4 for fan, plus the on/off switch for the compressor. That is sometimes not enough gradations to get the ideal temperature in the car; I could talk about heat transfer here, but that would be a discussion involving Watts and Navier-Stokes, and nobody wants that. But here's the thing: you can use the floor vents to divert some face vent air as like a half step between temperatures! It's brilliant, especially if you're wearing shoes. If you're wearing flip-flops, it's just delightful.
This is especially true if you are driving with flip-flops. If you have warm air blowing over flip-flop shod feet it's akin to putting on socks fresh out of the dryer for the entire trip. That itself is worth consideration. It also slows down the rate at which the windshield will fog up on the inside, since it takes longer for the air to reach the windshield (or as they say in England, windscreen).
My AC has like 12 divisions on the temperature dial and the standard 4 for fan, plus the on/off switch for the compressor. That is sometimes not enough gradations to get the ideal temperature in the car; I could talk about heat transfer here, but that would be a discussion involving Watts and Navier-Stokes, and nobody wants that. But here's the thing: you can use the floor vents to divert some face vent air as like a half step between temperatures! It's brilliant, especially if you're wearing shoes. If you're wearing flip-flops, it's just delightful.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Let it Rain
I haven't gone into the lab yet today because it's raining. Really. I woke up this morning, heard the rain falling down, and said to myself, "It's rainy and probably cold. I don't feel like putting on shoes yet." My job is either awesome or terrible, it's hard to say.
I am probably going to go in after I finish lunch, though. It's still raining, but I don't really have anything else to do this afternoon anyway, other than play Xbox, and that seems kind of depressing. What I really wanted to write about today is the food I'm eating for lunch. I've already told you that I'm pretty awesome with food, but I want to take it a step further. Over the weekend, I decided to recreate a Cuban dish I had in Miami that was stellar. It's called ropa vieja, which means old clothes. Nothing as delicious as a shredded t-shirt seasoned with cumin.
It got that name because it looks like shredded clothes, which is kind of weird, because I don't know how carrots fit into a fashion ensemble. The meal involves flank steak, a tomato based sauce and vegetables over rice. It's the sort of meal I should carry around with me in a small pan and portable stove, to get people to do my bidding. I need to recruit a chorus of women to eat my food and then sing me praises in three part harmony.
I have a very general theory of food that coastal cultures in general produce better food than mainland cultures. Peoples like Cuban, Japanese, Italian, Mexican, Thai, etc, do good work, particularly when contrasted with the trainwreck that is German or Slavic cuisine. (Chorizo, a Spanish sausage, is infinitely better than any sausage to come out of Germany.) There are, of course, exceptions; for example, my very own peoples, the British and the Irish aren't really spectacular at food making, and they're both islands. (They seem to have brewing and distilling down pat, though). People seem pretty excited about the French, too, but other than their cheeses and breads, I'm not all that familiar. Actually, looking at the geography, maybe it has something to do with warm weather being better; because Scandinavian food is really confusing, and they have all those fjords up there. So the theory needs revision, that's what you people are for.
The US kind of wins, though, because we just steal everyone else's and make it our own. Pizza? Made in New York. General Tso's Chicken? Had to be our influence, after all, we have Colonel Sanders, too. French Fries and French Toast? All American, and we name it after another the French to stick it to them, because you know they hate to think of that they'd be responsible for those. I guess I'll make the chorus sing patriotic songs, too.
I am probably going to go in after I finish lunch, though. It's still raining, but I don't really have anything else to do this afternoon anyway, other than play Xbox, and that seems kind of depressing. What I really wanted to write about today is the food I'm eating for lunch. I've already told you that I'm pretty awesome with food, but I want to take it a step further. Over the weekend, I decided to recreate a Cuban dish I had in Miami that was stellar. It's called ropa vieja, which means old clothes. Nothing as delicious as a shredded t-shirt seasoned with cumin.
It got that name because it looks like shredded clothes, which is kind of weird, because I don't know how carrots fit into a fashion ensemble. The meal involves flank steak, a tomato based sauce and vegetables over rice. It's the sort of meal I should carry around with me in a small pan and portable stove, to get people to do my bidding. I need to recruit a chorus of women to eat my food and then sing me praises in three part harmony.
I have a very general theory of food that coastal cultures in general produce better food than mainland cultures. Peoples like Cuban, Japanese, Italian, Mexican, Thai, etc, do good work, particularly when contrasted with the trainwreck that is German or Slavic cuisine. (Chorizo, a Spanish sausage, is infinitely better than any sausage to come out of Germany.) There are, of course, exceptions; for example, my very own peoples, the British and the Irish aren't really spectacular at food making, and they're both islands. (They seem to have brewing and distilling down pat, though). People seem pretty excited about the French, too, but other than their cheeses and breads, I'm not all that familiar. Actually, looking at the geography, maybe it has something to do with warm weather being better; because Scandinavian food is really confusing, and they have all those fjords up there. So the theory needs revision, that's what you people are for.
The US kind of wins, though, because we just steal everyone else's and make it our own. Pizza? Made in New York. General Tso's Chicken? Had to be our influence, after all, we have Colonel Sanders, too. French Fries and French Toast? All American, and we name it after another the French to stick it to them, because you know they hate to think of that they'd be responsible for those. I guess I'll make the chorus sing patriotic songs, too.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
You're making quite a bit a' sport of me
I followed two sports over the past few weeks that I don't normally. You have already read about one of them, and the other is our so-called national pastime. The US team was eliminated in the World Cup and Clemson was eliminated from the College Baseball World Series. It's still two months until football season, so what am I going to do for the intervening time? Watch professional baseball? I'd rather eat the stuff at the bottom of my oven.
The soccer loss was a bit hard to take. I felt like I was forcing myself to watch it as a national service, choking down the programming the way a five your old would his cough medicine, trying to support the United States in a place where (surprise) everyone else hates us. We lost to Ghana. I don't really know much about Ghana, other than what its flag looks like and that the United States should never lose to them in anything. So basically, this would be like telling that five year old that the medicine he took was really just cooking oil. Not only did it make you wish for whatever disease it was supposed to prevent, but you might actually get that disease anyway. But soccer will be huge here in five years.
Baseball, on the other hand, is a little less effectual to me. I could go to Clemson games. They were fun, actually. Watching baseball on television is excruciating without a rooting interest. But since I am a Clemson student, I had one; UNC played a serious game and beat us. Then Cal State played us to the last inning and we came up short. It happens. At least it wasn't Ghana.
So back to the question - what am I supposed to do for sport in the time between now and opening day of football? ESPN has been showing paintball a lot, maybe I'll watch that.
The soccer loss was a bit hard to take. I felt like I was forcing myself to watch it as a national service, choking down the programming the way a five your old would his cough medicine, trying to support the United States in a place where (surprise) everyone else hates us. We lost to Ghana. I don't really know much about Ghana, other than what its flag looks like and that the United States should never lose to them in anything. So basically, this would be like telling that five year old that the medicine he took was really just cooking oil. Not only did it make you wish for whatever disease it was supposed to prevent, but you might actually get that disease anyway. But soccer will be huge here in five years.
Baseball, on the other hand, is a little less effectual to me. I could go to Clemson games. They were fun, actually. Watching baseball on television is excruciating without a rooting interest. But since I am a Clemson student, I had one; UNC played a serious game and beat us. Then Cal State played us to the last inning and we came up short. It happens. At least it wasn't Ghana.
So back to the question - what am I supposed to do for sport in the time between now and opening day of football? ESPN has been showing paintball a lot, maybe I'll watch that.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Indians appreciate efficiency
A good of mine who happens to be of the Indian persuasion sent me this link about a week ago: http://www.shadi.com. He called it "online dating taken to an extreme." It's an online community for Indian people to get married. Skip all that messy dating and courtship, just pick out one you like and offer a marriage proposal. The best part is that there is a question listed that asks who sent in the profile -- yourself or your parent. Check out some of the profiles for yourself and see what I mean.
I'm not really sold on the circus of assinine that is online dating, but this I have to say exceeds my normal level of skepticism. But then again, you have to admire the concept; fill out a form listing everything you want in an ideal husband or wife, and wait for the proposals to come rolling in. Now that I think about it, I'm surprised there aren't a lot more of these out there. I could see facebook evolving a feature like this -- ask a girl in your biology class to marry you.
I'm not really sold on the circus of assinine that is online dating, but this I have to say exceeds my normal level of skepticism. But then again, you have to admire the concept; fill out a form listing everything you want in an ideal husband or wife, and wait for the proposals to come rolling in. Now that I think about it, I'm surprised there aren't a lot more of these out there. I could see facebook evolving a feature like this -- ask a girl in your biology class to marry you.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Idleness, my kryptonite
People wonder what they'd if they didn't have to work. I'll tell you what they'd do, because I'm doing it: eat ice cream and play video games. My "job", which is to be a grad student, right now is about as exciting as the soccer game I tried to watch yesterday. (I didn't fail to watch the USA-Czech Republic match, but I would feel dishonest not prefacing "watch" with "try" because "try" implies discomfort. I just wanted to be sure that you understand that both my life and the soccer game were/are boring at the moment.) I am waiting on things to arrive, various quotes for work and free samples of parts. I am sitting at home watching MSNBC and writing this because there is literally nothing I can do in the lab. Well, that's not true; I can make fun of the Belorussian Ph.D.'s broken English. But really, I can do that here, too.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
GOOOOOOOAAAAAALLLLLL!
I tried to watch a World Cup game today - England vs. Paraguay. I'll probably watch the USA on Monday as well. People talk about the excitement in sports, and it's ok, I guess, but I still don't know if I understand this game. The action is continuous, that is true, but because the action is continuous doesn't mean it's all exciting. Think of it this way: you like movies, so a long movie will be better than a short one. That's not necessarily true.
I want to like this game. I really do. I want to understand what it is about this game to inspire hooliganism of such a magnitude to make Maryland Terrapins fans look tame. But it's confusing. Not the game itself as much, really, but the nuances, the sophistication of the game. The more I think about it, though, is that this game needs beer more than an ugly chick sitting at the bar a half hour before last call does to be appreciated. That's a little rough at 9 AM.
So my question is, really, does the rest of the world actually enjoy this game or is it a prank they're pulling on the Americans? Sure, after baseball it may be deserved, but what is it that everyone but us goes nuts about? I'm going to give this World Cup the chance to see through the demands for beer, much like I saw through the need for drugs to listen to 60s guitar music. I think I may even bring in some Brazilians to try to explain it. I do think that I'll be able to convert them to football in September, though.
I want to like this game. I really do. I want to understand what it is about this game to inspire hooliganism of such a magnitude to make Maryland Terrapins fans look tame. But it's confusing. Not the game itself as much, really, but the nuances, the sophistication of the game. The more I think about it, though, is that this game needs beer more than an ugly chick sitting at the bar a half hour before last call does to be appreciated. That's a little rough at 9 AM.
So my question is, really, does the rest of the world actually enjoy this game or is it a prank they're pulling on the Americans? Sure, after baseball it may be deserved, but what is it that everyone but us goes nuts about? I'm going to give this World Cup the chance to see through the demands for beer, much like I saw through the need for drugs to listen to 60s guitar music. I think I may even bring in some Brazilians to try to explain it. I do think that I'll be able to convert them to football in September, though.
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