His image

The other day I drove past a billboard with a picture of Jesus Christ on it. Nice looking fellow, sort of glowing. And what I thought was, boy, this guy must have really kind of stood out in first century Jerusalem. It makes you wonder why Judas would have to go through the whole kissing thing, instead of just saying, “He's the tall fair gangly blue-eyed goy.” Of course, maybe Judas just liked smooching blondes. Also, I wonder if a lot of people ever walked up to Jesus and told Him how much He looked like a young Gregg Allman.

It comes down to nose hair, really.

If you turn 21 this year, first off I want to say don't blame me. It was already mostly like this when I got here. Now. They're calling you the digital generation, masters of 21^st century technology. But seriously, that's like calling a Victorian gentleman a Master of Steam Power because he knew how to buy a railway ticket. Actually, the railroads are one candidate for most transformative innovation ever. Others include the backstrap loom, movable type, artificial fertilizer, antibiotics... Me, I say it's scissors. A decent pair of scissors makes the difference between a civilized human and a savage.

Let's namecheck Hoyt Curtin here.

“Cottontail,” “Lester Leaps In,” “Salt Peanuts” are all written on top of the harmonic structure of “I Got Rhythm.” So is the Flintstones theme, and about a schmillion more. “Scrapple from the Apple” is the changes to “Honeysuckle Rose,” “Donna Lee” is “Indiana.” But wait. In 1928, Sigmund Romburg composed the operetta The New Moon which included the song “Softly, As in a Morning Sunrise.” In 1954, jazz guitarist Johnny Smith wrote a new tune on those changes. In 1960, some pickers in Tacoma cut a twangy version: The Ventures' “Walk, Don't Run,” courtesy of Siegmund Rosenberg from Kanizsa, Hungary.

Jamaica me hungry.

Goat and chicken are somewhat anomalous words in our language; often we use separate terms for an animal and its edible flesh. Maybe because ground cow or thin-sliced salty pig abs sound a bit off-putting. Or maybe not. We eat fishes and usually call them by the right name, except Patagonian toothfish which sounds profoundly inedible. We eat duck and rabbit more often than sweetbreads or lights, no euphemisms required. This is all because yesterday I ate a mess of curried goat. Also jerk chicken, which, isn't it enough to dismember, cook, and devour the bird without the character assassination?

Omnivoracious

Name any food; somebody you know doesn't like it. Watermelon? I know these people. Lamb? Again, some close friends won't touch it. Eggs, tomatoes, cucumbers, falafel, and chocolate. Brussels sprouts, catfish, cilantro, lentils, and spaghetti. Spaghetti! Seriously, how did these folks ever get born? What possible evolutionary scenario can explain the persistence of a tendency to be a picky eater? It's like deciding you don't want to look at anything red, or you'll listen only to music with all high notes. Me, I'll eat just about anything. Except mint ice cream. That's just gross, like a bowl of cold toothpaste.

It's all about the fiber.

They’re selling custom-made rubber mats to protect the carpet in your vehicle. Which, correct me if I’m wrong but wasn’t carpeting a special option not so long ago and rubber mats the default state? I’m going to make a mint selling expensive aftermarket manual window cranks. It’s like how the cheapest bread is the whitest bread, but then you have to pony up for the bran supplement.  I know who’s buying those mats though- a generation ago they’d have put clear plastic over their cloth upholstered sofas. So much classier than just buying a plastic sofa in the first place.

The valley remains canny.

Here's some disappointing news: You're never going to get an Asimov-style humanoid robot. They were only ever invented (by Karel Capek) as a way to talk about an awakening laboring class. There's no way anybody is going to ever build a truly autonomous C3PO type robot, because what could you possibly use it for that would justify the massive R&D investment? Maybe it could hand out brochures at tradeshows. More bad news. No time machines. Not ever. Because, look, no matter how far in the future it happened, if they were ever to be invented we'd have always had them.