Never let it be said that life is not full of surprises. It’s a little after ten o’clock at night, and I’m the last place I expected to be: at work. Not actually working, of course, but hunched over the keyboard in my office while outside in the hall, floor polishers whir and janitors talk amongst themselves from one end of the corridor to the other. See, at home, my computer crashed. I tried to upload some rinky-dink midi conversion software, because I can’t actually play any instruments but I have these other songs stuck in my head and I’ve been trying to figure out which notes I’ve been humming lately. After much trouble, I ended up restarting my computer, and I wound up with error messages across my screen telling me that I need to reinstall Windows. I came here to try and find a boot disk, because I am apparently too stupid to have made one for my own use, and because everything else Dell tech support suggested failed to work or get me beyond “Error Starting Program” and an otherwise empty desktop. But all I have here is the Windows 2000 CD, and while creating a boot disk from that probably isn’t terribly complicated, it’s getting late, I don’t need to use my home computer tonight, and I have no blank disks handy, it would seem. Besides, I think the janitors are getting restless.

I will say this much: technical support can be awful, as recent experience has taught me, but the guy on the phone at Dell was friendly and courteous, and their menu was intuitive and easy to navigate. That’s important when you’re in Panic Mode, like I was when I first called. When they don’t have the information you need, or can’t fix the problems you’re facing, it’s at least nice to know it isn’t because they don’t care.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you, because I didn’t. Here, then, is “A Pocketful of Penis”, lyrics written in a fit of boredom by yours truly and recorded with members of the Penn State Monty Python Society, who assure me that the rest of our CD, Sex, Drugs, and Graham Spanier, is really much, much better that this track lets on, and that I should be a good boy and go lie down now. We’ll be performing this and other original pieces again sometime in mid-April, and if you’re really desperate for attention you can write us and ask for a copy of the CD. We only hurt the ones we love.

And the rich man in his summer home

Singing just leave well enough alone.

But his pants are down, his cover’s blown…

And the politicians throwin’ stones,

So the kids they dance

And shake their bones,

And it’s all too clear we’re on our own.

Singing ashes, ashes, all fall down.

Ashes, ashes, all fall down.

– The Grateful Dead, Throwing Stones

America as an idea is so much better than America the reality. Every time I read something like this (sent to me by Erik Wilson), I want to hit someone, preferably someone who works for the propaganda machine that is Fox News. I quote:

And yet, the conservative agenda is and remains singularly unpopular with the population at large, as evidenced by the fact that the GOP can only win elections by hiding its true objectives and playing moderate, running scorched-earth campaigns of personal destruction, smear and slander, intimidation of minority voters and other means of depressing voter turnout – and even then only barely. As Rush Limbaugh gets never tired of telling his white, male and angry audience – it must be someone else’s fault. Unable to face the fact that a majority of the population simply does not want theocracy, social darwinism and corporate supremacy, they had to find a scapegoat – or invent one if needed. Thus The Liberal Media myth was born.

The Liberal Media myth is a propaganda tool employed by conservative radio hosts, columnists and pundits as a convenient excuse why after 20 years their ideology has failed to convince the public at large, and as a memetic inocculation of the public against the evidence that the media bias is in fact a conservative one.

Not only does the liberal media claim have no basis in fact, it also does not make sense considering the issues of media ownership and influence of advertisers. Most media outlets are owned by a handful of conservative corporations and individuals, and funded by usually economically conservative advertisers who have no need for an educated, alert, independent and critical citizenry. What they need is a dumb, bored, cynical and apathetic public that has abandoned all critical faculties and is easily distracted by celebrity gossip and mindless sports games. A public that will believe anything it is told, or nothing at all, which amounts to the same end result. This pro-corporate conservative bias of the media is well-documented and shows itself in consistent under-reporting or ignoring of any information that would lead people to question the fundamental status quo.

The 2004 election can’t come soon enough as far as I’m concerned.

Some mornings, it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed. I’m in no shape to come up with anything original to write, even if my life afforded me with interesting stories to relate, which it doesn’t. Later tonight, I meet with the Penn State Monty Python Society to begin planning our night of original sketch comedy in April, and maybe tomorrow I’ll finally share with you my “A Pocketful of Penis” song, which I suspect I’ll have to perform once again. For now, though, you’ll have to content yourself with some interesting things from other people’s websites, found on my excursions online.

First, from Stewart Butterfield at sylloge, an mp3 of the by now infamous Terry Gross/Gene Simmons interview from NPR’s Fresh Air. A little over a week ago, I quoted an excerpt from this interview, which, for legal reasons (apparently Simmons wouldn’t give written permission), has not been archived at npr.org. As Stewart writes:

The interview is a great study of conversational breakdowns and awkward pauses. Simmons was obnoxious and seemed profoundly insecure about talking to an intellekshual like Gross, while Gross seemed extremely threatened (and flustered) by Simmons’ sexual attitudes and history.

Stewart also shares some pretty pictures, the winners of the 2001 Visions of Science Photographic Awards. Neat, huh? Leslie Harpold uses one of my own photographs for inspiration for a story, which I think is just as neat even if my photograph isn’t half as cool. It’s interesting to discover what other people see in what you take for granted and see around you every day.

From Jonathan Leistiko, a bizarre depository of ideas called Halfbakery. It begs the question, why hasn’t science delivered on its promises of amnesia pills and pocket squids? Don’t we deserve better?

From Metafilter, proof that I’m not the only one who takes Buffy the Vampire Slayer seriously.

From Rebecca Blood, an interesting assortment of words for which there is no equivalent in English. Last week, I wrote that the Germans seem to have a word for everything, and now I know it’s true. They even have a word for what I’m feeling right now — bettschwere, a weariness too deep for anything but sleep.

And finally, even though I know in my heart that online personality tests are meaningless wastes of my time…

I am ELMO.

I’m cute, cute, as a button!

Which Sesame Street Character Are You?