Nerdpocalypse

Open letter to everyone in the world:

Hai. As you're probably aware, this week is the turn of the 13th baktun in the Maya calendar. This date has been the subject of much excitement and unfortunately many errors about the Maya civilization have been propagated. Which is sad because Maya civilization was totally wicked and cool as it is and needs about as much help as Psycho needed to be remade.

As most of us know, the Maya had a pretty accurate set of calendars. The long count is one of these. It contains measurements roughly analogous to our day, decade, century etc.  A baktun is a kind of like a millennium and lasts about 400 years. There are 13 of them (or sometimes 20) in Maya calculations.

At some point someone decided the Maya just stopped counting time when the 13th baktun occurred because they thought it was the end of the world. Except some calendar dates actually contain higher units of measurement than a baktun (the next unit is called a piktun). That means it doesn't end on the 21st, rather the date rolls into the piktun. Even if there weren't higher numbers, there is no evidence baktuns aren't cyclical.

Some people think that because the Popul Vuh contains a number of creations that they were expecting the destruction of this creation and the next creation to occur. That however is conjecture, and there isn't any solid evidence that the Maya actually believed this.

The turn of the 13th baktun was seen as a time of great change and the end of an era (possibly the Maya era)--it is a very significant date in the Maya culture, kind of like y2k was for us.  Maybe even a time when gods came to earth and made things happen. But not necessarily the end of the world.  Sure there were probably a few nutters planning to skulk around in the jungle and live off the ceremonial grid, but those people are everywhere.
 
Many people also like to post the Aztec calender stone when they are making these assertions about the Maya long count calendar.  Now the Aztec calendar stone does look really cool and stuff. Only problem is it's not the calendar in question. This is what the Maya long count date for the 21st of December basically looks like (with roman transliteration beside):

I drew that cause I'm awesome at being a nerd. But notice how it looks NOTHING like the one everyone is posting? Yeah. The stone is actually a representation of the Aztec version of the 52 year cyclical calendar. NOT the long count. Besides Maya and Aztecs aren't the same people. They have many aspects in common but still are distinct cultures. It's like posting a picture of the Canadian flag every time you talk about USians. Weird and makes you look dumb.

Also "Mayan" refers to the languages of these cultures. The people are known as Maya.

I could go on (for HOURS) but I'll cut you all a deal: I submit that we place a limit of one glaring error per reference to the Maya, their calendar and what it looked like (I would prefer none, but I'm willing to compromise because I'm benevolent like that). That way you're only making ONE mistake to make my head pulsate. In return I'll try to resist forcing you all to play a round of cosmic ball game.

 By the way the loser gets killed in that. And you would lose.

Thanks,
your friendly nerd.

EDIT: saw a new one that said something to the effect of "if the Mayans could predict the future there would still be Mayans"Three strikes, DEFINITELY A BALL COURT OFFENSE. I'm wondering who the hell these people think LIVE in the Yucatan region these days, fricking Egyptians???

I Know Just How He Felt

Earlier in the month, Rey wrote a pretty funny send up of the problems with Kenotic Arian anthropology. Read it here:

Was Jesus Upset About Santa?

I realize this is a little late, but I wanted all the KA stuff to point back to one place (ie MY blog) when The Don or The Don's minions stumble across it so that he (or the minions) can then contact me about his excellent forthcoming forward to the book. Mem even gave me a German subtitle: Lehrung der Tools. Or something like that. Hopefully The Don approves.

I bet Jesus was also was super excited about The Don writing a forward to his book so he knows just how I feel and will work to give me what he got! Right?

Ocean Colour (and) Scenes

Waaay back when I went down east I spent a lot of the time I wasn't sleeping trying to score local yarn. I especially sought the Fleece Artist/Hand Maiden stuff, and managed to get my hands on some lovely silks and wools. I found a beautiful kit of silk and silk blends in colours that remind me of beaches on the ocean and I thought it would be perfect-and it's so soft. This is totally petting yarn.

Anyway it took me a while to quit petting only and get around to starting it, and when I did I decided to knit it continental so that I could use a stitch I had seen on the interweb called a Norwegian purl. Basically you don't have to throw the yarn back and forth repeatedly when doing K1 P1. I hate doing ribs and the like for that reason, so I gotta say I love whoever thought of the Norwegian purl stitch.

I couldn't get out of knitting in the round though (which I also hate), and it took some time to get the hang of the continental style. It's meant to be better for lefties, but knitting is the one thing I have always done right handed-mostly because in order to do crochet or tatting or a litany of other things left handed, one controls the tool with the left hand and thread with the right. So my natural inclination is to control the thread with my right and basically manipulate the needles with the left.

So yeah continental took getting used to, and it's harder to keep tight. I do have to say it's about 900 times more efficient. I still can't do a normal continental purl stitch though, just the Norwegian. It's totally beyond me-so back to English for most things I think. It's actually nice to switch out between the two styles, as your hands don't get as tired.

I had part of one sleeve left to do on this since like June. I knew I'd have to rip out the neck as it was too big and was procrastinating because I hate ripping and picking up. But the last time I was down at Broadview, I decided it was time to get it done. I finished the arm, ripped out the neck and decreased it by 18 stitches altogether. It worked.

Here it is after blocking (silk stretched exponentially).


So I have my oceany sweater now. It's very basic, but I like that as the yarn is showcased by it's simplicity. I didn't even realize until I looked at this picture that the pattern is like honeycomb. Hey cool.

And I won't get arrested while wearing it I see-gotta watch anything that covers my collarbones as they are sharp enough to be considered concealed weapons when I wear turtlenecks.

Right around the same time I got it done, the Hellions arrived. So here for random enjoyment, is a picture I took of hellion #2 doing his patented villain face:


He was unfortunately just pulling out of the face when I took the pic. Normally his tongue is sticking through his teeth and his eyes are crossed. Gotta say I am impressed because the kid has this look down even to the one squinty eye-very consistant. That takes dedication.

But damn that kid is a ham. No idea where he gets it from.

On a totally unrelated note, especially for Ser; this is why we need a beautiful actress to play me in Theologica: the Motion Picture.

I know you don't want to look at that.

I Give a Glowing Review.

I am excited to announce the unearthing of a new and exciting scholastic field. My close personal friend whom I only know from the internet Dr Rey Reynoso PHD n. BS, TE has answered the call of nature as it were and given us a trilogy of works exploring a much neglected field of theological studies, Exretology.

These are destined to be classics referred to again and again, well worth the money spent. Indeed if you can only buy one set of theological books this year, forget the Puritan Divine Dr Owen. Go with the extretological Divine Dr Reynoso. I daresay these works are poised to become as authoritative in their field as Owen on the Holy Ghost. To be sure the bar in the fertile soils of exctretology has been set very high.

Indeed D. A. Carson has reputedly put aside his own studies on the subject declaring Dr Reynoso's work to be definitive.

Dr Reynoso is not afraid to get his hands dirty and do the hard work of mining the truths of scripture in this scholarly work. However though thorough his work is highly accessible for the unwashed masses who hold no doctorates. No abstruse prattling, rather Dr Reynoso talks down to your level of ignorance.

In the first work, the doctor lays the groundwork for his theses. The second narrows in on the theological and philosophical implications of incontinence. The last, set for release early this year, is the Dr's magnum opus. Dr Reynoso works hard in way of application, covering wiping, digging and indoor plumbing besides a host of other subjects. The breadth of this work is truly amazing.

You may leave unabashed praise and adulation for the Doctor's high level of education and therefore value or purchase the books here:
Centre for the study of Exretology.

I can be productive occasionally. I Just don't like it.

I am sick. And alone. So I decided to avoid going out or cleaning by making something. I had planned to make a dress out of eyelet lace with a silk bodice last year and like everything never got around to it. Since it is now kind of attempting to be warm, I thought I would try and make it. I was going to draft the pattern, but had recently bought the Hotpatterns Weekender Monaco dress pattern, which looked much like the idea I had so I decided to use it instead.

It worked out pretty well. It was a simple pattern with little shaping so it was difficult for even me to ruin. I originally added the optional sleeves, but the first try on with them had me immediately ripping them off. (they are gathered and looked nauseatingly precious with the lace) So now it is a sleeveless dress. I don't like sleeveless dresses so much but at least it doesn't give me the same queasy feeling that eating an entire bag of cotton candy does.



Here be the dress. Well me wearing the dress. Ignore the fact that my hair is not straight and looks like a lousekitch (before anyone asks, I have no idea what a lousekitch is, beyond that being what my grandma called your hair when it looked terrible). I am also reminded of how much I hate those new fricking glasses. Bah.

Because I used the lace edge for the bottom, I didn't even have to hem it! Surprisingly I actually did all the rest of the finishing for it. That's unusual for me and one of the reasons I don't frequently sew clothes (besides that I'm terrible at fitting).

Here is the back yoke on which I also used the perty silk. I would have liked to have gotten more of the back of the dress into it, but hey it's not particularly special. I also wish I didn't look stoned, but the fix red eye does that to you (well crack does too, but I don't have any of that). When I was a kid I closed my eyes in pictures all the time because they always went red.

I hate that Hotpatterns no longer drafts their patterns in different sizes anymore (though I understand why they don't for practical reasons). They used to draft for women who were well endowed, ones who were average sized, and girls with smaller chests than a lot of men (guess which group I fall into). Anyway this was the first multisized pattern I tried and once I had finished it I realized that a good inch needed to be taken out of the front insert. I am terrible at altering patterns but I did attempt to redraft it in case I make another in the future because it is a nice pattern, and not too difficult to make. Maybe it will work, maybe it won't.

As it is mostly eyelet fabric, I decided to make a separate slip rather than line it. originally I made the slip too big so I brought it in and it is now too tight in the butt. Well fortunately it's stretchy. I admit I was getting lazy at that point.

When I took the pictures of the dress I also took some that tell a little story, it's like a vignette. Remember the Continental? It's kind of like that but more violent. I call it Two Books, One of Life and One of Death:




Hello my friend it looks like you have some heavy books that you might like to offload and leave at my house for ever awhile...I'll keep them as a favour...






Oh they are your old Seminary textbooks? You don't want them and want to share them?? GIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sweet boookssmmmmmm are they Owen? Carson? Schaff's Nicene and post Nicene Fathers?






They are The New Measures, Good Morning Holy Spirit and Your Best Life Now?! Where the hell did you go, Crackerjack School of Divinity?

What do you mean I just need see God move through these works? I don't think he has bowel movements.



Then at this point there would be lights flashing from my eyes to kill so I left the red eye in that one. I thought I would leave it at that to avoid an R rating.

Somewhere around here I wondered if I wasn't overdoing it on the pain medication. You know looking at that second last picture I really do look like I'm on crack don't I. Maybe the complete works of Origen is in there.

Leetle White Box of Nerd Cooties

As I type there is a little white box sitting on the desk of my room. As the title suggests, I am sure said little white box is jam-packed with nerd cooties, just waiting to be released so they can get me. Now one might think that because it is small there can't be that many cooties in there and conclude it is not so dangerous. Don't be fooled, for the strength of the nerd cooties in this box are particularly virulent and there is a thousand dollars worth of them in there. I'm also sure that, unlike their human hosts, they replicate like mad too. In fact the little white box is likely a nerd-cootie factory, one which I wouldn't be surprised to know runs on role playing games and science fiction films.


Behold The Cootie Machine:




EEeeeeeEeEEeeEeeeWWwwWWWwwWww!!!!!! Why did I pay money for this??!

Oh yeah because mama the buying enabler told me I had to.

I think she wants to poison me with nerdyness. What a slow and painful death that is, sadistic mama. She'll definitely never get grandchildren out of me now (not that she ever was mind you).

I also secondarily blame Grandma, as it is because of her that I must move the computer out of the back room and into my room where there is no room for the large tower I have now. I was looking at laptops but I didn't want to get rid of the lurvely wide-screen monitor I got for Christmas, and well, to me laptops kind of suck. I thought I might as well get a smaller computer that was wireless so we could keep the modem and router where they are-and I'd get to keep the Most Beloved Monitor.

Thirdly I blame my other Grandma, because mama had an ulterior motive in convincing me to buy the Leetle White Box of Nerd Cooties; she wants Grandma B. to have my old computer so they can all chat on the computer together (mama, aunts-who never visit my blog after I carefully erased all the evil things I said about them!!-and grandma). So she has a hand in it as well!

but you know it is so leetle and kind of cute-in a completely nerdtacular way...

BTW, "Leetle White Box of Nerd Cooties" has already become this computer's official name.

ETA and my keyboard doesn't work with it! Damn damn DAMN. Now I've unhooked everything from my other computer and I can't even work on the cootie machine.

Let's talk no more of the virus that has invaded my house.

Here is some consolation: about four years ago I bought six iris bulbs (or rhizomes or whatever the heck they're called) to plant in the crop circle because irises are one of my favorite flowers. When I got them, three were bad and the company replaced them, but I thought I might plant those away from the others. So I looked up how they were meant to be planted and cared for and carefully followed all instructions as I planted the nine bulbs I had. I waited and got...nothing.
It took a year or two before one lone little leaf appeared. I have been watching it with interest since, and finally this year, it got a flower. Yesterday the flower bloomed. So of those nine bulbs this is all I ended up with, but it is pretty so I think it was worth it. Maybe it's beautifulness is even powerful enough to cancel out the nerd cooties...

AaaaAAaart

While at work the other day, I was looking at a Saskatoon tourism booklet that had come with the paper. They had a listing of the current exhibitions at the Mendel Art Gallery. As the Mendel is just across the kinsmen park from what is still my grandma's apartment for the next month or so, I have spent many a good time hanging out there, looking at conceptual art involving cut up bodies and whatnot, and wondering who eats the bananas from the conservatory banana tree. It's always good to take some time to go there when we are in the city.

Anyway the Mendel is currently showing an exhibit of British Drawings from The National Gallery. The listing is graced by a nice Rossetti drawring, and the idea of resurrecting a drawing salon sounded kind of interesting so I figured I'd probably make a stop there when we go up in July. So I went to the website (I didn't even know the Mendel had a website) and saw that it's focused on Pre-Raphaelite work, which would be nice to see...then I saw those three special words.

You know the ones that cause heart fluttering and excessive swooning. That's right!

Charles Rennie Mackintosh.

AAAAAAAaaaaAAAaaaHHHHhhhhHHHH!!!!!

There's a drawing by CRM in Saskatchewan!! Now knowing me, you would be aware that I would be willing to travel there to see a piece of TP that was once stuck to the shoe of one of the Four. So you know I AM SO GOING to that now.

I am betting it's one of his smaller watercolours or flower paintings, nothing spectacular, as I think the Hunterian Gallery houses all the superextracool works of the Mackintoshes. Still wouldn't it just be awesome if it was that one...which name I don't know-but it's like my FAVORITE one, and it's all green and purple and crazy detailed and it has like shieldy-things, and I have it as my desktop background, and I close everything just to look at it sometimes, yeah that one-wouldn't it be awesome if it was that one?? I feel that either that or a textile design would be most worthy of the jail time I'd get for stealing it.


Mama will not agree to be my distractor however. I don't know what her problem is. I'm sure it will just be a little drawring and if I wear a big coat to hide it in no one will notice, even though it will be July when we go, because I'm skinny to start with.

And I'll delete this entry if successful of course.



Look I found my fave piece, isn't this...uh, superwickedawesome? I've only seen it in one book (from which I scanned it so the page break is visible in the centre) and don't know the title. It is so thick with detail-I do wish I knew what the heck was going on.

LOOKIT

BLUUUUE SHOOOOES of DOOOOOM!

And indeed, with 4-and-a-half inch heels they may just be heralds of doom. At least people will notice my shoes if they cause me to go arse over teakettle.

After so many long sad days of searching and being met with nothing but a slough of crocspond, or being thwarted by the sartorial deities (er, patron saints I mean, patron saints.) in any attempt at procuring my much-needed blue shoes, lo I finally have them in my hot little hands-eh feet. Well you know. This totally makes up for the recent prickishness of certain family members (also the photos are at my house where they will remain, suckas!).

Never thought I'd own a pair of "designer shoes" as even I won't justify such outrageous prices for a couple of pieces fabric, leather and foam- but such was the depth of my need of the blue shoes-and it didn't hurt that they were actually fairly cheap as they are at end of-the-line sale.

Like Odysseus and his Ithaca, determination has brought me and the shoes together at last. Yeay!

I actually made a "Dr Tongue's 3D House of Blue Shoes" video of the shoes. I am such a freakin nerd.

Because I am a useless sack of...of...of the opposite of willpower when it comes to shoes I still ended up getting the Carlos, just in red as that was all there was on ebay.
Now I suppose I should probably give lots of money to charity to make up for my excessive nature. That's not exactly like an indulgence is it? No it's that I have more shoes to love, and my heart is so full of joy. I want to share the blue shoe joy.

Ramblings

So I have been continuing to organize the wild jungle of memoorebilia we call a bookshelf. Look at how nice and *comparatively* neat it has become! (Don't look at the floor.)



I told you not to look at the floor.

Notice that the books in the lower centre shelf happen to be holding up the shelf above them. Unsurprisingly, those books had to stay where they were.

I maxed out my free membership on librarything at 202, I got one and a half shelves of this set in! Dad actually had more than one edition of many of his books I have discovered. Clearly I will need to break down and buy a membership to do the collection justice.
Mama also thinks this is a good idea-and therefore not a complete waste of time as my usual pursuits like sitting around and sleeping are-as we will have an actual catalogue of books just in case her fervent and often loudly vocalized wish to have the house burn down is ever realized.



Look what I found as I perused the shelves! It was fun to look at and see all the old guys, Bobby Jurasin-I still have our "Rider Sun" bandannas in the cedar chest, Ray Elgaard-I still can't believe they didn't retire 81-bastards!, Roger Aldag-whose nearly life sized cut-out Richard used to sleep next to heheh, Don Narcisse, and all the guys from the days when we actually managed to win a cup for the whole second time in the last hundred years. Back then, we kids had season tickets in the cheap seats but always sneaked into section 28-especially if those dirty cheating Bombers were there-so we could yell along with the drunk college students at the opposing players bench directly in front. And the flame was still there!

Ah good times....sniff.

I am hoping I can teach Avery to bleed green as he was very interested in my Gainer key chain when we were there for Easter (yes yes never mind that it just looked like a little stuffed toy to him). I don't know what I'll do if he ends up a lamo stamps fan.

Anyway, back the book; as good as the memories may be, I cannot believe this page existed in my house for all these years without having me deface it:


My family used to laugh at my undying hatred for Kent Austin. They of course would bait me by mentioning that Kent thought our recent loss of say 65 to 3 was still a good game because he felt he played well. AUUUGGGG! Kent Austin YOU SUUUUUUKKKK! Ahem. Sorry, flashback. (I come by this honestly, BTW, as my Grandma hated Ron Lancaster with an equal fury. Forever locked in my memory is "Look Ronnie is going to start crying...")

I have ALWAYS regretted not being at the game the 13th man won against BC the first year after Kent Austin was traded to them, which I think was only a season or two after this. That was unfortunately the first year we didn't get season tickets. It also happened to be like the only game we won of the season, and one of the few BC lost. If time travel were ever made possible, forget all the "big" events of history, I would sign up to go to that game.

I so would have harangued the crap out of him with the drunks in section 28.

Speaking of which, I bet this page could still make good bog roll...

Shoe Blues...

I only have 27 pairs of shoes and none of them are blue. This led me to the realization about a year ago that I absolutely needed a pair of blue shoes-not navy and not turquoise mind you but a cobalt blue-and set out to look for them. I didn't count on them being particularly difficult to find-though I probably should have as I am impossibly picky about such things.

After scouring shoe stores across the county (such a difficult job!) and having to put up with my mother showing me disgusting crocs and saying "well they're blue, heheh"-to which my reply is should hideous crocs really be honoured with the title of "shoe"? Isn't this a fairly apt comparison to Finney as a theologian? Shouldn't they rather be called " unsightly blobs of pure evil, only to be destroyed at the second coming along with death and hades"? Sure less catchy but I'm all for truth in advertising. They are probably manufactured by the minions of Satan, otherwise known as Monsanto.

Anyway, after the stench of so many crocs, I finally found them.

Blue shoes!!! So perdy. Patent is kind of meh, but I could live with that. They are T-straps, that makes up for just about anything. And for our colour blind friends, did I mention they are blue!

Then I find out that the only places that carry them are in the US and will not ship out of country. Discriminators! Don't they realize how much I need the blue shoes!? Just because I could only wear them three months of the year does not mean I wouldn't rock them during those three months. Because I would.

WAAAAA I want my blue shoes.

Dawn of Kitsch

I love the internet! You can find some intriguing people and philosophies that you never would have guessed existed. Yeah there's a lot of junk, but there are some nuggets worthy of consideration there too.

On the creative front, I found the site of Odd Nerdrum to be a very interesting read. Not that I necesarily agree with them, but certainly an unusual theory on 'art'. I'm going to guess they aren't big fans of Kant...

The basic line of thought on what the "kitschpainters" call art is proving to be more prominent than I would have expected as I dig around. I've said it for years, and obviously so have many others; the modern and postmodern eras are pretty much over, and being assailed ever more. I suppose once the modern became the very establishment it meant to topple, doom was assured. We are in a transition period these days, and an uncertain future awaits. I don't think we can predict what changes will come yet, though it is apparent some return to skill will be part of it. Perhaps the 21st century will indeed be the dawn of Kitsch.

Quotable:
Do not allow Art to retain its moral authority over ability.

Fashion apocalypse

I was reading fashion blogs at work the other day (I know...but much of the aim of my job is to stay awake all night.) anyway, I unearthed a most ominous and frightening trend: fashion bloggers talking about skinny jeans...favourably.

Of course they've (minions of Mephistopheles in the fashion industry, that is) been trying to push this evil on us for awhile, but so far we have fought the good fight. We remember the days of freedom, when like the Ephesians with their books of magic, we burned our skinny jeans on a multi thousand dollar holy pyre, jubilant that we were no longer under their dark influence.
Too quickly it seems we have begun to wear down, to forget the tyranny.

Even now you may hear the honey-dipped voice of El Diablo whispering in your ear, telling you how thin your ankles will look in those skinny jeans. "Jeans are just jeans aren't they?" whispers the seductive voice. Listen not to the father of lies!

We well know that for all the beauty God has given, the devil has a twisted horrible counterfeit. The LORD in his wisdom gave us bootcut, straightleg, and all manner of comfortable attractive jeans. Only the darkened mind of the Evil One could mar something so good as the jean into the hideous beast known as the skinny taperleg jean. Only old scratch could come up with a jean that looks good on absolutely no one-NO ONE-and so disfigure the human figure made in the image of God. Don't be fooled-the Accuser only awaits the day when he can post full size pictures in the courts of the heavenlies of you in those skinny jeans. There will be nowhere to hide from the shame.

Repent now! If your skinny jeans lead you to sin (which they always do) cut them off! Arise and wake-for the skinny jeans will infiltrate the church and lead many astray. We must fight this tide!

Appendix: Out of morbid curiosity, I had to read comments to see how many had been fiendishly deceived. What I read made my blood run cold. Someone suggested skinny jeans best asset is that one can tuck them into one's boots. There you have it, dispies. Between that and leggings, living proof that the Great Tribulation is upon us. You can't say you weren't warned.

Lemuism

Since it has come to my attention that several people are now creating creepy secret shrines to me, (as per N'ness) and that they will soon be churned out enmasse like cheesewheels and cotton underwear by the lovely Walmart, I feel I should post some ground rules for the Cult of lemur.

Eat Bannock everyday. No love for bannock means no love for Lemur. Anyone who would dare tread upon the sacred nature of bannock is a heretic, and is hereby anathematized.

Never keep other people's mail art for a really long time, and then drop of the face of the earth. This will get you a long stint in purgatory.

Hijack other sites and threads to delare your love aliegance to lemur whenever possible. You will gain extra indulgences to give away.

Absolutely under no circumstances should one describe the eyes of the lemur as b**dy. This is the most dastardly type of blasphemy and will be subject to severe punishment


Okay those are the vital ones, I will think of more later.

Oh yes and thunderstorm-19 is hereby the first bishop of lemuism.
As you all know prophets are always freaky outcasts therefore larrissa is gifted as the prophet. Heheh.