Ron Paul’s remarks on the war, to the House

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a gag about clashing jargons

Sheldon Richman on the “Minuteman Project”:

. . . this “citizens’ neighborhood watch along our border” looks for foreigners who, by and large, are seeking better, more-productive lives for themselves and their children. The self-appointed American border guards inform the authorities when they find any. This strikes me as most out of keeping with the heritage of a country born in revolution, devoted to individual freedom, and skeptical of political power. The irony is that these Americans claim to be acting in the tradition of the original Minutemen, those brave early Americans who were always ready to engage the British forces during the struggle for independence.

First day on a new assignment. I set my cheap Chinese alarm clock for 7:00 a.m. Awakened by daylight, I see that the clock says 8:08, and briefly panic; then turn on my telephone, which says 6:29. Evidently the clock zeroed itself about the time I turned in — I must have bumped it in an inappropriate way.

My housemate works near a Sears, and promises to find me a better clock today. But wait, Sears is now K mart . . .

Later: I got one at IKEA. (How do they pronounce that in Sweden, anyway?) It’s made in China but it’s mechanical rather than electronic.

Later still: . . . and it won’t ring without a nudge. Fortunately I woke up at half past six every day this week.

The expansion of the universe manifests in odd ways.

From The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (1979):

. . . two to the power of two hundred and seventy-six thousand, seven hundred and nine [276709 = 17·41·397] to one against.

By a totally staggering coincidence, that is also the telephone number of an Islington flat . . .

I’m fairly sure that the number in the recent movie had more digits than that, beginning with 20, which since 2000 April 22 is the code for greater London.

Movielens invites you to rate movies you’ve seen and offers recommendations according to your ratings. To my amusement, most of the top fifteen titles suggested to me are foreign: six Japanese (all by Miyazaki), four Chinese and one German.

I called a locksmith today and he said he recognized my voice’s “heavy tone” from a previous job. I wonder whether that’s a translation of a Chinese idiom. Perhaps my voice was gravelly, as it sometimes is in the early morning.

I sing baritone, and that word comes from Greek bary- ‘heavy’, though you’d think the metaphor would apply better to a basso profondo.

Novel digital effects (interesting though somewhat crude by current standards) and slapstick mitigate the pointlessness of Kung Fu Hustle but detract from the fight scenes. Would I like it better if I understood the language?

Come Monday, I’ll be working in Menlo Park. How should I spend the early evening before braving the bridge?