Learning V2.0

I've decided to revitalize this project and begin to learn things again. It has been almost an entire year with absolutely no new information contacting my brain. I would like to formally put a stop to that again. ...Starting tomorrow.

Under the Bridge

It's a bit embarrassing to admit this, having practically grown up on the internet, but until just now, I have remained in the dark as to what exactly an internet troll was. I had assumed that they were akin to a bot, but with slightly more malicious intent. Like an irritating automated friend request generator on MySpace, or automatic ad posts on blogs, and forums. But trolls, as it turns out, are humans knowingly baiting members of forums and communities with controversial, and insulting comments. They appear to be cousins to standard jerks, or a derivation of the common asshole, just with a more specific purpose and focus. But at least now I know what lurks under the bridges of the many byways of th internet. Macho assholes too meek to shake anything up in the real world, so they bait kids in chat rooms.

Resurrection Mary

I have been entertaining myself this evening reading up on local haunts and legends in and around the state of Illinois. One of the most intriguing (and from right here in Chicago on Archer Avenue) is one you've all heard before. A driver is headed down a dark stretch of road late one night. They notice a beautiful but forlorn and pale female by the side of the road and offer her a ride. She orders the driver to stop and let her out at the cemetery, and is gone before the driver knows what has happened. It that same old hitchhiker story that's been around since the horse and buggy days, but this one has some interesting peculiarities. First of all this "ghost" (using the quotes because I am not prepared to commit to the full usage of the term) who has been given the name Resurrection Mary, has been spotted hundreds of times, and by all sorts of people. Some poor fellas have even picked her up at dance clubs in the area only to have her vanish into the air around the cemetery. She is always a striking blond with a weathered looking white dress. One guy in particular, James Palus has a particularly thorough encounter to relate. There is also an alleged account of Mary bending and partially melting the bars of the cemetery gate with her ghostly hands, but the owners maintain that a sewer truck backed into it and left the marks while trying to heat up the metal with an acetylene torch to push the bars back into place. You be the judge.

via Wikipedia
Prarie Ghosts
and Weird Illinois

LOLcats

Now, I wouldn't consider myself a n00b by any stretch of the imagination. I have an avatar in Second Lie, although I forgot my password about a year ago and have yet to correct the matter. I'm on Flickr, Mog, Last FM, Skype, Veoh, Digg, Odeo, De.li.cious, all that newfangled web hipster 2.0 hoo-haa. But one avenue (well many, but this one for now) of the internet that I remain completely dumbfounded by is the explosion of LOLcats. I could try and put the craze into my own words, but I think I'd better let the experts speak on this one:


From Wikipedia

Lolcats, a compound of lol and cat,[1][2] are photos of cats with humorous captions. They are a type of image macro, and are thus also referred to as cat macros. Lolcats are created for the purpose of sharing them with others on imageboards and other internet forums, especially on Saturdays ("Caturdays").[3]

Lolcat images usually consist of a photo of a cat with a caption characteristically formatted in a sans serif font such as Impact or Arial Black.[4] The image is, on occasion, photoshopped for effect. The caption generally acts as a speech balloon encompassing a comment from the cat, or is a simple description of the depicted scene. The caption is intentionally written with deviations from standard English spelling and syntax[4] featuring "strangely-conjugated verbs, but [a tendency] to converge to a new set of rules in spelling and grammar."[5] These altered rules of English have been referred to as a type of pidgin[4] or baby talk.[6] The text is frequently in the form of a snowclone parodying the grammar-poor patois stereotypically attributed to internet slang.

Lolcats are similar to other animal-based image macros, such as the O RLY? owl and captioned pictures of walruses (lolruses [7]), elephant seals, dogs, hamsters, birds, and rabbits.[8] The format is popular enough to have spread to subjects as diverse as United States Presidents and tapirs.

So it turns out that I fully understood the concept all along, I just never fucking got it. I still don't think it's funny. But that certainly cleared up a lot. Thanks Internet, I'm glad we had this talk. Now I feel comfortable making a submission of my own to the fog of LOLcat hysteria:



Meez so smartz now!

Cobination unLock

Sometimes the things I learn are useful.



How To Crack A Combination Lock - video powered by Metacafe

Protest Nothing

This was organized by a group called NODE from Berlin and Oslo in the year 2004.

This demonstration was part of our workshop “Means of Promotion” at the Estonian Academy of Arts, Tallinn. The workshop examined different strategies for being a parasite on existing media. We organized an unregistered demonstration with empty banners by the Liberty Clock monument in Tallinn. Estonian law requires a demonstration to be registered by the authoroties. We did not ask for such permission, thereby posing the question to the system whether or not this was an illegal action. The event was covered by all major TV-stations and newspapers in Estonia.

the Berbalangs of Cagayan!

I happened upon this story in a book entitled "Oddities" by Rupert T Gould. It was published in 1965 and the account references a previous text by a Mr. Ethelbert Forbes Sketcherly, which appeared in the Asiatic Society of Bengal's Journal in 1896. There is little hope of the tale related having any factual connection, but it is an interesting bit of lore nonetheless. I would also like to illustrate that the Sketcherly text appears to be the original and only text on the subject, for every subsequent account I have found (and there are few) are nearly exact replicas of the original story; the story of the Berbalangs of Cagayan!! (duh duh duhhh!)

From the Sketcherly text:

"These Berbalangs are ghouls.They dip open the graves and eat the entrails of the corpses;but in Cagayan the supply of cadavers is limited,so when they feel the craving for human flesh they go away into the grass,and having carefully hidden their bodies,hold their breathe and fall into a trance.Their astral bodies are then liberated,whereupon they fly away,and entering a house they invade the body of one of the occupants and feed on his entrails.You can always tell them because their pupils are not round,but just narrow slits like those of a cat.They may be heard coming,as they always make a moaning noise which is loud at a distance and dies away to a feeble moan as they approach.When they are near you the sound of their wings may be heard and the flashing lights of their eyes can be seen dancing like fireflies in the dark."It is said that the only way to beat them off is with a "kris"a blade which has been rubbed with lime juice.

more from Unsolved Mysteries:

Mr. Skertchleys first lecture on these creatures took place in Hong Kong,and of course he was not beleived,but he had faith that someday he would be taken seriously about what he ahd witnessed that year.The Berbalangs had a habit of treating their guests to what looks liks curried fish,but in actuality it was human flesh.Once you ate of it,your soul was destroyed and you yourself became a Berbalang,however,if before eating you sprinkle your food with lime juice the food will resume it's natural shape.Mr. Skertchley spoke to many an audience,and of course,the people treated it as a joke.In February 1899,Mr. Skertchley had taken a journey to Tibet to confer with the Lama,on his way he disappeared,he was never seen or heard from again,some now beleive he was spirited away by the dreaded Berbalangs.

And for you enjoyment, from the book, "More Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark," The Berbalangs of Sulu (which, minuse the last line and names, is nearly word for word the story in "Oddities" and the Sketcherly article)From (sigh) a fortunecity page:

Many years back, Andrew Simmons, an English explorer, visited a small island of Cagayan Sulu. It is a lonely spot of land in the Sulu Sea between the Philippine Islands and Malaysia. There are strange stories in the island related to a tribe of cannibals with cat's eyes called 'Berbalangs'.

When hunger for human flesh urged them, they will lie down in tall grass. They will then fall into a trance and go hunting for victims in their winged forms, while their bodies lie hidden behind tall grass.

The people of Cagayan Sulu have been living in fear of these Berbalangs for generations. They warned Andrew that the Berbalangs make horrid moaning noises that are loud when they are far away, but grow fainter as they approach. When they are very close to you, the sound of wings flapping could be heard and their eyes would move in the dark, like fireflies.

They told Andrew that a coconut pearl (an opal rarely found in the coconut) would keep him safe from the Berbalangs. Without one, the only defence is a kris (a local traditional knife) with its blade rubbed with lemon juice. He tried to buy a coconut pearl, but found out later that it would only protect the one who discovered it. It would be powerless if given or sold.

Andrew asked if anyone would come with him to see the tribe. Only one brave young man, Matali, volunteered. They started in the morning and finally reached the Berbalangs's settlement in the late afternoon. Matali refused to go any closer, "We've seen it. Now, let's go."

"We're not stopping now," Andrew insisted that they go on further.

"I am not going in there! If you insist, you go alone!"

Matali smeared his kris with some lemon juice and handed it to the daring yet somewhat ignorant explorer. So, Andrew went in alone. The place looked deserted, only a few chickens and a goat remained. However, in one hut, Andrew saw some rice boiling in a pot, as if someone had just left it there.

Andrew went back to Matali and told him what he discovered. Matali begged the Englishman to leave, saying that the Berbalangs were hunting in their other form. It would be a suicide to stay there any longer. As the sun was already setting, they finally make their journey home.

Before they were even half way back, it was already dark. Suddenly, there was this loud moaning noise. "The Berbalangs…" Matali whispered in fear. "Pray they will pass by without noticing us." They both hid behind the grass. The moaning grew fainter and fainter which meant the Berbalangs were getting closer and closer to them. Soon, the sound of flapping wings could be heard. Matali and Andrew began to fear the worse when they saw 'fireflies' flying over the tall grass. They halted for a second, as if they noticed something hidden in the grass, but then left. The moaning began to grow louder and Matali sighed with relief. "They're gone," he said. "We're safe for now. Hurry up, we must go!"

The two raced for Matali's village. As they ran beneath the tall grass, they could hear the moaning noises which slowly and gradually grew fainter and fainter. At one point, Andrew saw an isolated house. "We must help the people inside," he told Matali.

"The man who lives there, Hassan, has a coconut pearl," Matali said. "Now hurry! We have to escape."

Andrew followed Matali and they got back to their safe village after a short while. In the morning, Andrew laughed at himself for believing that story. He thought it was silly to let Matali's fear and some fireflies scared him. When he met Matali later that day, Andrew, however, asked about Hassan. Matali said he lied about Hassan owning a coconut pearl. Hassan had arrived a week before Andrew on some research expedition to learn more about the island. Matali reckoned Hassan could probably be died by now.

Andrew, insisting that the story was mere superstition and was not true, decided to prove himself right by inviting Matali to go to Hassan's house with him. When the two of them got to Hassan's house, no one answered to their calls. They then realized the door was not locked, so they went in. They saw a desk, with papers scattered everywhere on the floor. Matali went into room while Andrew walked towards the desk and see what was there. Suddenly he backed away and shouted for Matali. In the corner of the desk was Hassan - only his skeleton with a few scraps of flesh clutching a shredded paper.

Suddenly, they heard moaning noises outside growing fainter and fainter. And fainter....

Spolier Alert!

I heard through the grapevine today that eggs never go bad. This sounded fishy to me, so I came home on this very nice day to check it out. Here's the facts:

Eggs apparently can spoli if the shell is compromised (i.e. cracked), but it seems that they primarily just run the risk of "not being as good." It seems that the yolk becomes thinner, and the white runnier with time, but otherwise the only thing you need worry about is the egg drying up. If your eggs comes out in one solid clump, or in a powder, you should probably try getting a fresher batch. Otherwise, eat up!

From Learn More About Eggs.

I Was WAY Off!

So there has been much posting on BoingBoing about Daleks lately. I assumed, based on their form and name, that they were some form of ancient Indian, or Chinese ceremonial prayer bell. Of course, if you were a Gang of Doctor Who fans, you would probably pin me down and punch me in the face until most, if not all of my teeth, had been removed. I would still laugh at you though. But anyway, the Dalek is NOT anything sacred, or ancient (except in the previously mentioned circle). A Dalek is:

The Daleks (pronounced "DAH-lecks"; IPA: /'dɑːlɛks/) are a fictional extraterrestrial race of mutants from the British science fiction television series Doctor Who. A Dalek is a grotesque mutated organism integrated with a tank-like mechanical casing. The resulting creatures are a pitiless race bent on universal conquest and domination. They are also, collectively, the greatest alien adversaries of the Time Lord known as the Doctor. Their most infamous catchphrase is "EX-TER-MI-NATE!", with each syllable individually screeched in a frantic electronic voice

The Daleks were created by writer Terry Nation and BBC designer Raymond Cusick and were introduced in December 1963 in the second Doctor Who serial.[1] They became an immediate hit with viewers, featuring in many subsequent serials and two 1960s motion pictures. They have become synonymous with Doctor Who, and their behaviour and catchphrases are part of British popular culture. "Hiding behind the sofa whenever the Daleks appear" has even been cited as an essential element of British cultural identity, along with Bovril and afternoon tea.

So, there I go. Don't I feel so much smarter now. I sure am glad I got to find out about something of great cultural significance.

From Wikipedia

Sorry Orwell.

So there are many reasons to be wary of the National ID card, and you need to realize that you needn't be a liberal, or a libertarian, or a lunatic, to feel that way. Even the most conservative of people (and aren't they, after all, supposed to be in favor of restricted government) should be cautious. This is an unproven technology with an unprecedented amount of information on it. We risk not only Orwellian governmental snooping, but also open ourselves up to all sorts of potential for identity theft. Just because I'm an anarcho-libertarian, doesn't mean I am any more in favor of having my information stolen than anyone else. And it WILL happen. The hackers, and the criminals ARE smarter than the government, than technology, than YOU! Maybe not all of em, but enough. I don't trust this Act, and you should seriously consider it before you march unafraid out to the DMV to get your new National ID.

From Wired:

Homeland Security officials released long-delayed guidelines that turn state-issued identification cards into de facto internal passports Thursday, estimating the changes will cost states and individuals $23 billion over 10 years.

The move prompted a new round of protest from civil libertarians and security experts, who called on Congress to repeal the 2005 law known as the Real ID Act that mandates the changes.

And more details on Real ID from Wikipedia. Get yer'self informed.

Quickie

Sony designed but never released an in-dash car stereo that played MP3s recorded on high-capacity 2.88MB floppy discs. The device could hold 4 minutes of music at 96Kbps.

From Gullible Info

Use your Illusion

Here's some more visual stimulation to make up for the lack of verbal: an insane collection of mind-bending optical illusions. Way better than your old third grade illusion books.

Link

Images can make you smarter too.

Here is an information light, but visually enriching post from Smart Now. It is a fantabulous collection of some of the most bizzare statues from around the world. It has already sent me reeling into a vicious cycle of research, hopefully you will be similarly stimulated. (Warning: the page is huge. Look at them all!)

Link again if you're slow.

XLI

A series of bizarre circumstances, and my formative years spent in Indianapolis led me to kind of care about the events of last night's Super Bowl (XLI) The Chicago Bears (My current city of residence) V. the Indianapolis Colts (my roots). I admit that I am one of the last people on the planet to care about a football game, but a lifetime of hearing that the Colts were going to be good this season led to an overwhelming suspicion that they were due (mostly just so I could be done with it, and get on with my life). It is now up for time to tell if my wish will be fulfilled. But regardless of the background, I spent last night in front of the first Football Game I've ever seen from beginning to end. I would be lying if I said that I did not have fun, but I owe that to my friends.

The intrigue comes in after the game has been played, the chips eaten, the cokes empty, and the friends gone. To continue the theme (Super Bowl) My one remaining friend and I viewed the 1977 movie, Black Sunday. The plot concerns the actions of a group of Bosnian Terrorists called black September and their culminating attempt to detonate a lethal device from the Goodyear Blimp above the Miami Stadium at the Super Bowl. Similarities ring. First of all, I had had a similar plan, but abandoned it due to lack of interest. Secondly, last night's game was played at the same stadium. Perhaps they are always played in Miami, I don't know, and I don't care to find out. In Black Sunday the Pittsburgh Steelers take on the Dallas Cowboys. I remembered hearing that the Colt's head coach Tony Dungy was now the 3rd person to ever win the Super Bowl as a player and a coach. I also recalled that he won while playing for the Pittsburgh Steelers. AHA! Perhaps this was that very game! Well...almost. Tony Dungy won against the Dallas Cowboys in Miami while playing for the Steelers in Super Bowl XIII. Great! Must be. But not so fast, me. It appears Super Bowl XIII was played in 1979. Black Sunday was shot in 1976. Well what happened then? The Steelers beat the Dallas Cowboys in Miami in Super Bowl X. Hmm. But no Tony Dungy. Not until three years later under nearly the same circumstances, but no terrorists, and no blimp. Well too bad, almost would have been a very coincidental viewing. As it is, I'm not so sure.

I would also like to apologize to the Chicago Bears. It is my belief that you lost last night because we watched your 1985 Super Bowl Shuffle at half-time last night. It must have crippled you past the point of no return. My regrets for the disgrace you must come home to.

"What?" is appropriate

This is the fabled Wolpertinger of Germany and Bavaria. Unlike most native fauna, the wolpertinger is actually benefiting from human expansion as it's natural habitat is gift shops and mantles of incredibly tacky people. It is the equivalent of our jackalope or a Swedish skvader. The wolpertingers vary widely in shape and size, but are commonly assortments of wings, horns and avian feet on a small mammal such as a ferret, rabbit, or squirrel, but you know what small mammals are already.

The only bit of useful information that can be gleaned from this whole episode is that jackalopes and wolpertingers alike are thought to derive from rabbits afflicted with papilomavirus. This virus afflicts most species of animal on the planet and exists in many form that do nothing harmful whatsoever. Certain types of rabbits can catch a serious strain of the stuff that causes horn like growths.





Here is a link to more images of this sort: link
and more images of wolpertingers

from: the Zymoglyphic Museum
and Wikipedia

Fur Mich?

This one is for the reading audience. I want to know this, but have been unsuccessful in searching the internet. I want to know, and I'm sure it has occurred, but I want specific cases of people calling in to the police to report that a character on a movie or television show is in peril. I must know, and am determined to find out. If you have any information on these people please contact the author.

lesson No. 1

The first thing I have learned, which is why I am doing this, is a bit of a cop-out, but I think a necessary first step: I know absolutely nothing. I am a raving moron. I may not be as big a raving moron as some of the raving morons I have encountered thus far in my adventures, but I remain, sadly, permanently, an imbecile. Accepting this, but not letting it get the better of me, I hope to chip away at the monolith of ineptitude that is my, and everyone else's life. Now, who's ready to start learning?

statement of porpoise

For years now I have been jabbering away at myself; insisting that I am going to start learning something new every day. Well here I finally go damnit. I have had my starts an stops. I think the most I ever made it consecutively was a week. I have never had the will-power to hold myself to it, but now that my failure is (theoretically) public, hopefully the type of true grit and determination that I always heard about from telemarketers and late night product demonstrations will be infused into the very fiber of my being, and I may finally learn a thing or two.

On this day, the 10th of October, in the year 2006. I, Andrew T. Lyman, do hereby state my intent to, to the best of my ability, learn something new each and every day that I live. Let this be a record of the things which I previously did not know, but know now.