Monday, November 25, 2002

I switched over to Blogger Pro last week, a move I've been planning to make for at least six months now. I was a freeloader on this system long enough, and now that I've got a steady paycheck again I couldn't in good conscience keep playing without paying. I haven't gotten around to changing the logo-link on the left yet, as time is still severely crunched for me, and will be through at least the end of this week.

The time crunch is so severe, in fact, that I had to drop my NaNoWriMo novel a few days back. It was a disappointing but necessary decision. The experience was a great one, and I learned a number of things about myself as a writer, so I got a great deal out of it. I'll probably try again next year, unless I've already published a novel by then.

Back to the craziness that is my life. If I'm not able to check back in before Thursday, everybody have a festive and safe Thanksgiving.
Posted @ 8:57 AM

Wednesday, November 20, 2002

Finally, an ad campaign sponsored by the evangelical religious community that I can get behind: What Would Jesus Drive?
Posted @ 2:05 PM

Friday, November 15, 2002

Study in whiteness: I'm not a fan of Run DMC, though through reading stories on the recent tragic murder of Jam Master Jay I've come to appreciate their place as the Beatles of rap and hip-hop. Fan or not, that doesn't excuse the incredible whiteness I exhibited by the way I misheard one of their most famous songs.

Mind you, I'd never actually heard the song itself, just others singing it. Usually it'd be some other very white guy like me, and most famously Matt Damon sang the lyric in question in the movie Dogma. Maybe that accounts for me thinking the line was "Whose house? Ron's house!" For years, I've wondered who the hell Ron could be.

It's only taken me since the waning days of the Reagan administration to figure out the lyric is "Run's house," and that it's by Run DMC.

I possess tragic, soul-crushing whiteness, my friends. If I ever needed confirmation of that, I've got it now.

"Kaput" is Friday's Merriam-Webster Word of the Day. M-W explains that "kaput" came to us from France via Germany, and started life as a term from the card game piquet. The French "capot" was used for either completely winning or completely losing a hand. The Germans, in their usual sunny Teutonic way, had a different take:
German speakers adopted "capot," but respelled it "kaputt," and used it only for losers.
Just another linguistic warm fuzzy from the folks who brought us "schadenfreude."
Posted @ 2:01 PM

Thursday, November 14, 2002

Work, show, novel, eat, bathe, sleep. That's the full menu of my life right now. Not that I'm complaining, mind you, especially about that first one, which continues to go swimmingly. It's just the quick explanation for another of my nearly week-long silences.

Let me clear my brain buffer of a couple tidbits I hope you'll enjoy :
  • Just stumbled on Radio-Locator, and, wow, am I having fun sampling stations that webcast their programming. They cover the US and Canada, the latter meaning I'll finally be able to hear the previously forbidden non-US segment of As It Happens. I've a sneaking suspicion those Canucks are using that time to plot against us...
  • Submitted as a visual aid to stimulate your crossover slash fanfic writing: a pic of Patrick "Picard" Stewart and Anthony "Giles" Head embracing, circa 1986.
Posted @ 11:10 AM

Friday, November 08, 2002

Sleepiness is the watchword right now. Between readjusting to punching a clock again, staying up late Tuesday to watch election results, and a performance of Fiorello last night, I feel like I haven't rested at all this week. Saturday morning, with its promise of no alarm going off, can't come soon enough.

The preceding explains, in part, the Larry Kingesque blurbs that follow. As usual when I disgorge these little brain farts, I hope you enjoy them for what they are and beg your indulgence.

If you haven't tried it yet, and you're a fan of pumpkin pie, get yourself to McDonald's and grab a Pumpkin Pie milkshake. It totally kicks the ass of that granddaddy of the limited-time shake world, the Shamrock.

After a burst of activity on Monday, I stalled on my NaNoWriMo novel. I'm at a little over 8000 words right now, and I'm hoping to make up some serious ground this weekend.

To my eye, the new MSN Butterfly mascot looks like the bastard love child of The Tick and his sidekick, Arthur. And it seems others have come to similar conclusions.

While I'm strong on the rest of the Union, I've always had trouble remembering which state is which in parts of the Deep South and in the Four Corners area. After spending half this week staring at the map of the lower 48 on the Washington Post's Election Explorer, I think I've finally come up with a couple of nifty mnemonic devices which will allow me to remember them.

Louisiana is easy enough to distinguish, so I know that's the start of my new word to identify all of Florida's closest neighbors, Lamsalga.

With those big square Four Corners states, I just remember that "corners" starts with "CO," and so does my new designator for the region, Conmazut. To make it work, I have to remember to read it in true clockwise fashion, from the top.

I'm sure I'm not the first to ever think of these, but I'm surprised I didn't think of them sooner, considering I live in the Delmarva and all.
Posted @ 2:25 PM

Tuesday, November 05, 2002

It's Election Day. National elections are always huge days for me, and it's hard to precisely define why. For me, today is one part Independence Day, one part Thanksgiving, and one part Super Bowl Sunday. Walt Whitman's "Election Day, November, 1884" sums up my feelings pretty well.

Tonight, my roomie Hutch and I will drink Irish coffees while returns spew out of two TVs and my computer. Tomorrow, I'll get to come into work and start gathering info on the new folks coming to town. I couldn't have started this gig at a better time. It's like a big football fan getting hired as an NFL statistician. Yeah, it's work, but it's a lot of fun, too.
Posted @ 1:54 PM

Saturday, November 02, 2002

Well, it's day two of my NaNoWriMo odyssey, and I'm stuck at 883 words. When I got home from the bar my roomie encouraged me to join him at on Halloween, it was after midnight and I figured I'd start. In about twenty minutes I blazed through over 800 words, then hit the sack content in the knowledge that this writing in bulk stuff was going to be a snap.

I haven't written a lick since. After my first week back at work and a Friday performance, I thought I'd fall asleep almost instantly last night. No such luck. But did I spend the time writing? No, just watching Letterman and Kilborn.

As is my usual pattern lately, I couldn't sleep past 8:30 this morning. Again, I figured I'd get some writing in, finish the second half of Friday's quota and hammer out today's minimum 1667 at least, all in about two or three hours.

I've been up for almost two hours now, and I haven't been able to tap out a single word. Part of the problem is my first cup of coffee hasn't kicked in yet. Part of it is some "just noisy enough to bother me" but "not noisy enough to complain about" neighbors. So I'm giving myself a pass for right now. I'll burn off a show or two from my TiVo cache, let the neighbors finish their morning concert, then get back to it.

When I do sit back down, I'll do so with the inspiration of the following rare image - me doing actual physical labor, at the Fiorello move-in party:

Me and Gene Grunby; photo by Randy Barth
Posted @ 10:20 AM

Friday, November 01, 2002

Go here and take a peek at the pics on the right. Looks like somebody went to Glamour Shots.
Posted @ 9:40 AM


Am we talking to myselves?

Hosted by

Web Hosting -

This page is powered by Blogger

RSS Feed


'Bred Crumbs
Airy Nothing
The Astroprison Chronicles
The Big DumpTruck
Divers Alarums
Insane Troll Logic II
John Popa
Keeping Score
Life of Riley
Living in the Past
Mental Flotsam, Mental Jetsam
Tickity Tack
The View From Here
Too Much Information
yummy turtle

By The Way...
defective yeti
Fanatical Apathy

Peter David
Wil Wheaton (out of order)
Wil Wheaton: In Exile

Overheard in New York

Non-Blogging Friends
Alan Smale
Becky's Island
Kim Weaver

Eddie From Ohio
The Chromatics
The Boogie Knights

Write Club NYC

My IMDb Film Rankings

Comics Book Resources
Comics Continuum
TV Tattle

News & Comment
Google News
The Morning News
The New York Times
Urban Legends Reference Pages
The Washington Post

Jack Scheer's House of Cheer [] © 2001-2008 Jack Scheer.
Unless otherwise noted, images and text are by Jack Scheer and may not be reproduced or distributed,
in whole or in part, without the the author's permission.
e-mail address: jack at jackscheer dot com