Monday, November 30, 2015
A matter of scale
Limestone is made out of tiny seashells. Layers and layers of tiny seashells, laid down over a mind-bogglingly vast span of time by generations of small critters. Then over another mind-bogglingly vast span of time rainwater will get into the cracks and stay there. In the middle of Iowa, about 74 million years ago, a rock from space bumped into the planet Earth and made a big dent, blowing all the limestone away. The crater is buried, but if you drill a well in Manson, Iowa, you get soft water, while the whole rest of the region has hard water.
Monday, November 23, 2015
Sparklers in the tailpipe
Somebody once told me everyone’s normal till you get to know them. Which is so true. A person who at first seems pretty unremarkable may turn out to be deeply peculiar, for instance an oboist or model railroader. Another time on an occasion I’d like to forget, a guy whose name I can’t remember said “I always get into trouble when I compare my insides with somebody else’s outside.” Because everybody’s life is hard. It’s like a Buck Rogers rocketship in a Republic serial. From a distance it looks like it’s flying, but it’s really just hanging by a thread.
Monday, November 16, 2015
Found wanting
My neighbor is growing his own mangrove swamp, out by the curb. Actually, right now it’s in a clay pot and stands about three centimeters high, but he has a vision of an extensive National Park sized thing, with trained monkeys that bring him icy cold martinis. This man is a genius. He has a goal which, if handled correctly, can remain unattained for the remainder of his life. I’ve wanted a 1972 Buick Riviera for over four decades now. I hope I never get one. I’d be left with two tons of rusting steel and nothing to live for.
Monday, November 2, 2015
I have great ideas like this all the time.
They say Daylight Savings was designed
to conserve electricity, but every office, store, and factory in the
USA is artificially lit, so that can't be it. It does give you a
25-hour Sunday once a year, which is pleasant. Here's my genius idea;
forget the Daylight Savings thing, but make every Sunday an extra
hour long. Every week. Then fix it back by deleting the last hour of
work every Monday. So at 4:00 p.m. it's suddenly 5:00 – quitting
time. Also, I always forget how to reset my wristwatch, but I'd
remember if I did it twice a week
Monday, October 26, 2015
Welcome Koji
Somebody just had a baby. Well, a lot of people did, but these are special friends of mine, so I noticed. And a thing occurs to me; right around now we’re being joined by the first cohort of humans with a pretty good chance of living into the 22nd century. Unlike us, they will grow up with no particular expectation of flying belts, which were always a terrible idea because just imagine being hoisted up into the sky by your belt. I have no idea what they will grow up expecting. I have no idea what people hope for anymore.
Monday, October 19, 2015
The long arc
I know a guy who knows a guy who walks
out of every movie before the end; he says last acts are always a
letdown. That's a pretty good point. The part where they're
introducing characters and complications can be engaging and novel,
while tying up loose ends is more pedestrian. Or maybe writers are
just usually people of an age where they have some experience with
beginnings, but for endings they fall back on formula. They should
hire extremely old people to finish their stories. Of course, then
most movies would end, “Where am I? Where's my lunch?”
Monday, October 5, 2015
Vast. Cool. Unsympathetic.
Even using hypothetical VASIMR rocket technology, which has the distinct disadvantage of not existing, they figure it would take about 150 days to get to Mars. It would be like riding in a Dodge van from Christmas till Memorial Day with nothing to eat but cold Hot Pockets and Tang. I mention this because I was recently on an airplane for several hours and did not like it much. I watched part of a movie about people driving cars, and was surprised to learn that famous actors like Vin Diesel and Dwayne Johnson are so underpaid they cannot afford sleeves.
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