Archive for the ‘fun’ Category


Darwinism proven by Bible Code methods

November 10, 2007

Some years ago, actually, but I just caught up with it. We have Noam Elkies, number theory maven at Harvard, to thank for the discovery.

If God weren’t an evolutionist, he would never have allowed “Ape’s son, IMHO” to be an anagram for homo sapiens.


Three for the show

April 27, 2007
My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is:
His Most Noble Lord Nicteis the Mad of Goosnargh on the Carpet
Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

Three links of interest (with thanks to OBC’s indispensable recaps on Salon Tabletalk):

Do birds fart? The sagacious Laura Erickson again resolves one of the burning questions of the cosmos.

Learn your Peculiar Aristocratic Title. (Mine resides in splendor at the head of this post, along with the link.)

And Chatham, England has decided to pack in the tourists with a Dickens theme park. Having read nearly all of Boz at least once, I’m ready to consume a bit of underdone potato, and have the Spirit of Englands Past waft me across the pond to sample this marvel when the clock strikes one.


Frank Gehry, eat your heart out

April 3, 2007

In Arkhangelsk, a busted billionaire struggles to preserve his thirteen-story log cabin. I think this is one of a kind: it qualifies as downscaled upscale folk art. Upscale folk art


Some grand tours

January 19, 2007

As this Flash shows, Eric Idle’s song and NASA’s visual dance are a marriage made in the heavens.

And for those of you with high bandwidth, who are already weary of mere HDTV and bluetooth, here’s a page devoted to gigapixel photography. And here’s another.


It’s a sweet job, but somebody’s gotta do it

January 19, 2007

In the annals of Too Much Time On Their Hands, only a few pages count as truly epic.

Behold: a scale model of the battle of Helm’s Deep, rendered entirely in candy.


A fact so dread, he faintly said

November 17, 2006

Lewis Carroll’s Mad Gardener’s Song lends itself to almost endless variations on the following theme:

The Mad President’s Song

He thought he saw a missile threat
From which Star Wars would shade us.
He looked again and found it was
A strike plan of Al Qaeda’s.
“Clinton was paranoid,” he said.
“These clowns are small potatoes.”

He thought he saw a Pet Goat book
That he could read straight through.
He looked again and found it was
A plane that struck Tower Two.
“I’ll just sit tight until” he said,
“Dick tells me what to do.”

He thought he saw M. Atta link
Up to Iraq in Prague.
He looked again, and found it was
A puff of stovepipe fog.
“That makes no never mind,” he said,
“We still can demagogue.”

He thought he saw a mushroom cloud
That issued from Saddam.
He looked again, and found it was
A script by David Frum.
“Heck, let’s still go to war,” he said,
“To prove I am Da Bomb.”

He thought he saw a guitar chord
He could strum happily.
He looked again and found it was
New Orleans undersea.
“What are those corpses there?” he said,
“Just Democrats to me.”

Feel free to document any of the dozens of Dubya’s other well-known hallucinations in the same format.


Just because

November 10, 2006

Check out this two minute epic from Youtube via Dependable Renegade, wordlessly but eloquently expressing the way tens of millions of Americans have felt this week.

That’s what you call a tough house, eh?