…where [something] is either awesome or disturbing.
Maybe there just aren’t words yet for what this is. Maybe the cake-maker has transcended the capacity of the English language.
…in more ways than one.
When I was in University, there was a girl I knew that had a book called 10,000 Dreams Interpreted*. She pointed one out to me, and it became my favourite dream ever:
To see a horse in human flesh, descending on a hammock through the air, and as it nears your house is metamorphosed into a man, and he approaches your door and throws something at you which seems to be rubber but turns into great bees, denotes miscarriage of hopes and useless endeavors to regain lost valuables. To see animals in human flesh, signifies great advancement to the dreamer, and new friends will be made by modest wearing of well-earned honors. If the human flesh appears diseased or freckled, the miscarriage of well-laid plans is denoted.
Little did I know — until today — that that book was first published in 1901, and that dream’s been haunting peoples’ minds ever since then.
* Or something to that effect. Come on, this was 15+ years ago. Sometimes I have a hard time remembering where I put the cordless phone ten minutes ago.**
** Until it rings.
Via a cow-orker: Our world* may be a giant hologram.
“…[Y]ou can think of the universe as a sphere whose outer surface is papered in Planck length-sized squares, each containing one bit of information.”
Well, maybe you can. I can’t. Not yet, anyways.
* If by “world” we mean “Universe”.
Man, I haven’t heard this song in years. It’s called “Don’t Call Me Dude”, and it’s by the now-defunct Scatterbrain.
Days I’ve been hiccuping: 9.
I had my wisdom teeth removed on May 10th; since then I’ve had on-and-off bouts of hiccuping lasting, oh, three or four hours at a stretch. It’s really quite distressing. Okay, it’s !@#$ing irritating. You wormed it out of me.
I’ve been to two doctors about it. The first one suggested a low dosage of Haldol, which is an anti-psychotic (really). That didn’t seem to make a whit of difference, though, and so the next one prescribed something else, a muscle relaxant used to treat multiple scelrosis patients. He also prescribed a tiger-striped antibiotic for what appears to be an infection that’s got my right cheek puffed out almost comically. (Well, others might find it comical. Since it’s also tender, I’m a little less amused by it.)
So here’s hoping that the new drug stops my hiccuping. It’s had some effect already; right now I’m hiccuping, but for an hour or so while I played Lego Star Wars earlier today, I was fine.
Warning: Freaky spooky content ahead. Don’t click unless you like the heebie-jeebies (or the jibblies, if you’re a Strong Bad fan).
Today, on YouTube, I discovered two of the eeriest moments committed to celluloid, and they’re both from David Lynch films.
Chronologically first, here’s a snip from Lost Highway:
I have the soundtrack to this film. The song that brackets the clip is titled “Something Wicked This Way Comes”, IIRC.
Aaaaaaaaaaand after that bit of spookiness, this one should seem downright normal. From Mulholland Dr.:
The singer is named Rebekah Del Rio, and there’s quite the story behind that song and its appearance in Mulholland Dr.
These two clips have something in common: When I saw the respective films that they come from, each one was the one piece that stuck with me the most. Both had that spooky quality that just embedded them in my mind.
Ah, YouTube. Is there anything it can’t do?
We all get them: credit-card applications in the mail. I usually rip ’em in half and toss ’em in the recycling. I may have to rethink that technique.
Long story short: Good ol’ Rob Cockerham, of cockeyed.com, tore up a credit card app, taped it back together, sent it off–and received a credit card. Yikes.