Paperman

More from the Japanese fashion world: this is the Paperman hat. Since I can't read Japanese, I'm not exactly sure why this hat exists or who would actually buy it. Some guesses:

- Fecal Freaks
- Significant Others or Partners of Fecal Freaks (known as "Fecal Friends")
- People who suffer from the phobia of running out of toilet paper but not the phobia of looking ridiculous.
- Sociopaths, who may also be fecal freaks, who have so much money they would actually hire someone to be a human toiletpaper dispenser.
Any guesses?

Eco-Trashy Fashion: A Rant About Plastic Bags

Triumph International Japan has done it again - over the past ten years they have created several eco-themed bras made from recycled polyester fiber (the fibers come from plastic bottles). The latest is by far my favorite - a padded bra that transforms into a shopping bag:

Step 1: don a slutty look on your face
Step 2: remove your bra
Step 3: remove the padding (it becomes the body of the shopping bag)
Step 4: assemble bag
Step 5: replace slutty look on face with the self-satisfied smug of someone who is helping the environment.

Although Triumph has decided not to sell the bras, they are advertising them to raise awareness for the Containers and Packaging Recycling Law that was revised this June in Japan. In a nutshell, plastic shopping bags suck and unnecessarily so. 15 billion bags take one tanker of oil to produce and at least 30% of those are thrown away without reuse. Unless suffocating babies with them and feeding them to the hundreds of thousands of sea turtles, whales, and other marine animals who die each year from ingesting them counts as reuse. The EPA estimates about 500 billion to 1 trillion bags are used each year - the U.S. uses about 380 billion so we suck the most. U.S.A! U.S.A!

Imagined FanFiction...

So I am sooo into Top Chef that usually by Monday I start getting antsy for the next episode. Especially now that I found out the host for the show is none other than Salmon Rushdie's wife - strange world huh? I know that fanfiction is usually reserved for programs or movies that are far more embedded in our ummm "cultural imaginary" and far less ephemeral than Top Chef, but I present to you my fan fiction between contestant Marcel and head judge, Chef Tom Calickio (look, I know I am not spelling it right, okay?):

Chef Tom Calickio: Marcel, you've crafted this foam of giraffe confit with grated rhubarb and a whisper of saffron into a shape that resembles your hair.

Marcel: Yes, I have. I call it "Wolverine Junior."

Chef Calickio: But to what end Marcel? To what end? And this refresher on the plate that makes up the duo... can you tell me about it and the thought behind it?

Marcel: I call the duo "If the X-Men Were Translated into a Pretentious Food Dish" and the refresher is made from swiss chard, prickly pear, and the menstrual fluid of a small doe, hereafer referred to as "Juice-alee." You know... like Jubilee but ummm not a girl superhero, rather a refresher.

Chef Calickio: And the virtue in that Marcel, the virtue?!?

Marcel: Sigh... the X-Men were all about virtue Chef.

Imagined Websites...

So today on one of my procrastinatory web journeys, I visited the site deadoralive.com - a site solely devoted to helping you determine if the famous or semi-famous person you are thinking of is living or not. It got me thinking about a website I would love to see:

deadinsideoralive.com
At the website for Dead Inside or Alive, you enter a name to determine if that person is dead inside or not. Let's give it a try:


Dick Cheney:
Is there any doubt? DEAD INSIDE

Bob Dylan: Once ALIVE, but DIED INSIDE sometime in the 1990s, or right around when this picture was taken.

Carrot Top:
Not actually human, so not eligible to be considered
alive or dead inside.

Mar:
Hmmm, this is a tough one, but I'm going to have
to say ALIVE (the jazz hands are a sure indication, yes?)

If you're interested in purchasing the domain name for my imaginary site or if you have suggestions for additional entries, please send a self-addressed, stamped envelope to "Comments" at modal14.blogspot.com.

It's one of those days...

NBA Player Hater Saturday: Tim Duncan

I think this picture pretty much sums it up. Am I supposed to think Tim Duncan is a badass because he is sitting on a weird throne made of simulated ice? He still looks about as tough as my fourth grade teacher Mrs. Miller. So, why do I hate Tim Duncan?

1) He plays for the San Antonio Spurs and they irritate the hell out of me. They're just not fun to watch even though they win a lot. It's like watching someone milk a pig's prostate gland - sure, the job gets done, but it's just so... efficient and technical.

2) He has this reputation of being an all-around nice guy that just rings a little false to me. Sure, I'm jaded because I remember when Kobe Bryant was just this sweet, amazing basketball player and then he turned into a raging, inflated ego, but I suspect Tim Duncan isn't all that goody gumdrops perfect either. How do I know? That leads me to number three..

3) The reason I know he isn't perfect is because about a year ago when the NBA changed its dress code, Duncan told the media: "I think it's a load of crap. I understand what they're trying to do with the hats and do-rags and jerseys and stuff. That's fine. But I don't understand why they would take it to this level. I think it's basically retarded."

He didn't oppose the dress code categorically or talk about how it was implicating objects of dress that have been racialized and therefore denigrated in our culture - no, he was mad because he had to put on a sport coat and decided to liken the code to mental disability. As most of my friends know... you just don't use that word without thinking about it and who it affects.

4) His bio on nba.com says his favorite movie is The Crow. That is just... so lame. How much do you want to bet he has dressed up as the crow for halloween on at least one occasion and thought he really looked like a badass.

Extra credit for anyone who can suggest who Duncan was separated at birth from in the comments section. Come hate with me.

Oh Movies, you're SO stupid! What code doesn't do in real life.

So I'm currently in paper-writing hell, which means I am borderline brain dead and have limited abilities to think of anything funny on my own. I was however, incredibly amused by drivl.com's article on "What code DOESN'T do in real life (that it does in the movies)" - in it, Matthew Inman takes issue with how movies have tended to exaggerate what code is, looks like, and what it does. In his words, "they've morphed a little stuffed teddy bear into a cybernetic polar bear covered in Christmas lights and phosphorescent hieroglyphics with a fog machine pumping rainbow smoke out of his ass."

Make sure to link to the article for all ten hilarious observations, but my favorites include:

4. Code is not three dimensional
Remember in "hackers" when the gibson is depicted as a three dimensional city that the hackers must navigate through? Bullshit! We may use a dash of color in our shell to make things a bit clearer, but last I checked my terminal app doesn't require OpenGL. I'm working here, bitches - I'm not playing quake.

9. People who write code use mice
According to Hollywood most programmers haven't discovered how to use a mouse. Sure, we type fast, but a mouse is a very useful tool and there's no reason we'd abandon it. While we're dispelling stereotypes, I'd also like to say that not all programmers are hot-pocket eating virgins who play WoW. Some of us exercise and have active social lives. Some have even had SEX! Holy Crap!

10. Most code is not inherently cross platform
Remember in Independence Day when whatshisface-math-guy writes a virus that works on both his apple laptop AND an alien mothership? Bullshit!
If real life were like film I'd be able to port wordpress to my toaster using a cat5 cable and a bag of glitter.

Imagined Presents...

It's that time of year again when - already running low on mental abilities - I have to think of gifts for about seventeen or so family members that I get gifts for every year. The problem is, I tend to get stuck in a rut (I think my father got something Beatles-related from me about six years in a row). It would be way more fun to buy gifts for fictional characters than actual real people who have expectations and longlasting relationships with me that warrant a physical instantiation of those expectations in the form of a gift. Today I want to imagine what I would get for our very own American psycho, Patrick Bateman.




1) A hamster with a machine gun.
We all know of his love for both weapons and rodents petite enough to fit into bodily cavities, so why not combine these two interests into one adorable package? Owning a pet will also teach him about responsibility and may help him develop empathy towards other living things. And if the hamster suffocates inside of a prostitute's decomposing body? No big deal - Bateman will just join the ranks of so many other five year-olds who will "accidentally" kill their pets this year. The whimsical machine gun will communicate to Bateman that we all - including small animals - may get a little homicidal sometimes, but let's not take ourselves so seriously about it.



2) Chicken Soup for the Soul
Okay, I know what you're thinking: it's not cool to give gifts to people that try to change them (for instance - never give anyone a Richard Simmon's Deal-A-Meal if they didn't ask for it - that's just messed up). But I suspect that under Bateman's cold veneer there really is someone there! Sure he's the one most likely to mutter the line, "I'm dead and empty inside," but not after he gets a huge helping of inspirational stories that will open his heart (figuratively speaking - not talking about dissection here) and rekindle his spirit. These stories will hit Bateman's sickly amorality like a hot dose of restorative broth. After this book, he may:
- stop killing homeless people and instead spend weekends volunteering at the soup kitchen
- stop feeding cats to ATMs and rescue a few stranded felines from trees for tiny tots
- stop dissolving women in tubs of lime and take them out for a coffee and polite conversation instead

Stocking stuffers for Bateman: spa certificates and skincare items, including a toner that contains little or no alcohol. After all, alcohol dries out the skin and makes you look older. Merry Christmas Patrick!

From the Annals of Bad Science...

We all know the 19th century was fraught with examples of bad and specious scientific practice, but let's not forget the dark period of scientific discovery during the heyday of LSD. Apparently anyone who proposed an experiment of "x" on acid (where "x" was usually a small animal, young child, or counterculture visionary) received the funding and film equipment to document their research. Extra credit for anyone who can do a Latourian analysis of this video in the comments section.

Thanks Mom!

Thanks for my
birthday package!