Done Nodded by Joe Janes

Wow!

Last night was a ton of fun. I love it when I am in the presence of brilliant, funny people, who also happen to be really nice. Don and I got to the Uptown Writer's Space early. We went on a run (more like a brisk walk) to buy some red wine and a variety of snacks. We set up the space with folding chairs and we're ready to rock by 7pm. Laura, a volunteer at Uptown, came in and helped us out by greeting people.

It was a small conglomeration of bloggers and friends, but I am very satisfied with the flow and content of the show.

Lindsay Muscato opened the show reading from her blog, Lindsay Lives Here. She related humorous stories from her days as a teacher. My favorite had to do with a student writing the phrase "ass parade" on the chalkboard.

An author who wishes remain anonymous read posts from her blog Life and Times of Big Calabaza. My favorite was her story about her experiences in a hip hop dance class and trying to bridge the gap between more experienced students and newbies. Although she did not deliver on her request to use puppets, I forgive her.

Greg Wendling of I'm So Tired read from his friend Madge's blog, Madge's Musings. We were even treated to a listen to a voice-mail explaining why she wasn't there. She was lost and was eating a sandwich she bought from a man on the street. I particularly enjoyed Madge's description of the funeral she would like to have when she dies. I, too, now want a pulley system installed so people could manipulate my head and see all sides of my nicely coiffed skull.

Keri Myslinksi of Moments of Coherency - and the only blogger on the bill with zero connection to any other blogger reading last night - read a funny piece giving tips to homeless people on how best to increase the possibility of receiving change and a surprisingly touching piece about the death of a bird that flew into a building.

Amy Guth of Big Mouth Indeed Strikes Again rounded out the first half and, hands down, read the funniest post of the evening. One simple sentence about a night in New Orleans.

"I just saw a drag queen with Down Syndrome."

I also blew my hosting duties by not plugging an upcoming event Amy is hosting. It's called The Fixx Reading Series at The Fixx Coffee Bar on Thursday, September 27th at 7:30pm.

The second half was the formal presentation of "The Nod." Dave Awl, Thea Lux, Nat Topping, Don and I all sat off to the side of the stage. Through a quick succession of "Rock, Paper, Scissors" we determined Dave would go first. He read a post about "inventing" iced tea. This led Nat to go up next and read his version of the history of coffee. Thea followed that up with an awkward encounter with a handsome Starbuck barrista. I followed it with a letter to George W. about getting out of Iraq and going to war with Canada. The connection was equating our addiction to oil with a coffee addiction. Don then followed that with a diatribe on "no smoking" regulations. So, that's how our half unfolded. We laid down connections like tracks for a train as the train was running. Some connections were direct, some were loose. I followed a piece Dave did about a book on Pearl Harbor with a piece I wrote about arguing with my girlfriend called Rules of Engagement.

Thea wrapped it all up with a hysterical piece about baby-sitting and cleaning up the pooh of "Little Buddha."

It was a great time and Don and I will do this again. Look for announcements about it in the coming weeks.

Don and I are currently on the lookout for another venue for our next Nod. We have two criteria; it can't be the same place we just used and it must be FREE. If you know of such a place, shoot us an e-mail at thenod.don.joe@gmail.com. Thanks.

Baffled by the Internet (and How It Really Works) by Dave Awl

Posted by Ocelopotamus on May 18th, 2007 at 7:12 am

I’ve been disturbed for a couple of days now by this story about a judge in the UK who was baffled by the concept of a Web site.

A British judge admitted on Wednesday he was struggling to cope with basic terms like “Web site” in the trial of three men accused of inciting terrorism via the Internet.

Judge Peter Openshaw broke into the questioning of a witness about a Web forum used by alleged Islamist radicals.

“The trouble is I don’t understand the language. I don’t really understand what a Web site is,” he told a London court during the trial of three men charged under anti-terrorism laws.

This is a serious problem: Around the world we have people in positions of authority who fundamentally don’t understand how the Internet works, from Ted “Series of Tubes” Stevens to anchorpeople on MSNBC to trial judges.

At least this judge is willing to ask questions and admit what he doesn’t know instead of nodding along and acting like he knows something he doesn’t, a la Senator Stevens. But still … it’s scary to think of the ramifications of stuff like this, and I suspect that this kind of ignorance played a part in the absurd conviction of Julie Amero.

At any rate, I’m pleased to announce that Ocelopotamus has acquired an EXCLUSIVE TRANSCRIPT!!! of the court proceedings, in which a couple of lawyers try to explain the concept of the Internet to the judge.

Full OCELOPOTAMUS EXCLUSIVE!!!!! transcript is after the jump …

******BREAKING!!!******
EXCLUSIVE COURT TRANSCRIPT!!!
MUST CREDIT OCELOPOTAMUS.COM!!!!

FIRST LAWYER: … so you see, my lord, apparently the entire conversation took place inside a computer.
JUDGE: A computer? What the devil kind of thing is that?
FIRST LAWYER: A sort of electronic box, your honor –
JUDGE: Ah, a box! Most ingenious! With holes drilled in the top and sides, I imagine, for air to enter and reach the people inside?
SECOND LAWYER: My lord, the people themselves weren’t inside the box — only the conversation took place inside the box.
FIRST LAWYER: And not just one box my lord, but a great many boxes — a network of boxes that can speak to each other across great distances.
JUDGE: AIEEEEE! Boxes that speak?! But surely this is a bewitchment, signaling the end of days! What kind of demons inhabit these boxes?
FIRST LAWYER: No, not demons, my lord, the boxes are powered by … by lightning.
SECOND LAWYER: Like that chap from the colonies, your honor. Flying his kite in the rain.
JUDGE: Ah! So there was a great storm. And the boxes all had kites attached to them?
SECOND LAWYER: Yes, my lord. That’s how it works.
JUDGE: Remarkable! The times we live in!
FIRST LAWYER: Yes, my lord. These are truly days of wonder.

JUDGE: But where do the spiders come into it?
SECOND LAWYER: Spiders, my lord?
JUDGE: Yes! I’m told this is all part of something called the World Wide Web.
FIRST LAWYER: Ahh … er, the spiders connect the boxes together, my lord.
JUDGE: But of course! By spinning out long silken strands of their gossamer webs!
SECOND LAWYER: Yes, you’ve got it!
JUDGE: Do they attach the kites to the spiders?
FIRST LAWYER: Beg pardon?
JUDGE: I was thinking perhaps the kite could be attached to the spider’s web, and then the spider could sort of spin it out, and fly the kite that way.
FIRST LAWYER: Very good, my lord!
SECOND LAWYER: There might be a patent in that.

JUDGE: Now then, what exactly do people use these kite-flying spider-boxes to talk about?
FIRST LAWYER: Well, my lord, imagine if you will, a sort of — town square, with a bulletin board where people can post notices.
JUDGE: Ah, yes! Great curling sheets of parchment, with bills and advertisements and the like?
FIRST LAWYER: Yes, my lord, in a manner of speaking. And people use them to, you know, talk about the news of the day, and exchange pictures of cats asking for cheeseburgers, and —

JUDGE: Cheeseburgers? What manner of thing is this?
SECOND LAWYER: A cheeseburger is a sort of sandw — an invention of the Earl of Sandwich, my lord.
FIRST LAWYER: Something tidy for gentlemen to eat while they play at cards.
SECOND LAWYER: Imagine a patty of meat on a … a scone …
FIRST LAWYER: With — a sauce — made from tomatoes …
JUDGE: Tomatoes?
SECOND LAWYER: A vegetable, my lord. From the new world. Sweet and red and fleshy.
JUDGE: Ah! You mean an Indian love apple! I tasted such a thing one time — it came all the way from New Amsterdam on a great sailing vessel.
FIRST LAWYER: Also cheese, my lord. There is cheese on the patty of meat. That’s why it gets called a cheeseburger.
JUDGE: Yes, I see! But tell me, why the deuce would a pussins want to eat such a thing?
FIRST LAWYER: Perhaps the pussins gets hungry inside the box.
JUDGE: Naturally it would!
SECOND LAWYER: Yes, my lord.

JUDGE: So, let us review. The Internet consists of a great many kites attached to special boxes, and inside the boxes there are pussinses playing at cards, presumably smoking and drinking brandy whilst eating meat patties with scones and a sauce made from Indian love apples, all during a great electrical storm. At the same time, spiders are feverishly knitting all the boxes together with great shining threads of silk, and in this way they help to create a vast, freewheeling discussion amongst the many nations of the world.
FIRST LAWYER: Well, yes sir. In a nutshell, that’s it.
JUDGE: But that’s extraordinary! No wonder it’s all the rage!
SECOND LAWYER: And no wonder that terrorists would try to target it, sir.
JUDGE: It has been my considerable experience that terrorists are always possessed by a hatred of cats.
FIRST LAWYER: Most perceptive, my lord.
JUDGE: Well, I’ve heard enough. Prisoners guilty as charged! And court adjourned for lunch. Now, who wants to buy me one of these love-apple meat patties?

[Laughter all round. Exeunt judge and lawyers, chatting merrily.]

Splatter Distance from Liberty Valence

splatter distance
.
There is no room for error in my commute. My office is a Canada's distance away from the train and it takes a good 15 minute hustle to get from point A to B. This is after an already lengthy two train commute. If there's a lazy Purple Line moseying on the tracks, or a slow barista is instructed to make a pumpkin spice frappalatte (I'm not making that up), before I can order my coffee, that 15 minute trek has to be reduced to 7 or less.

Which is what happened today. I had 20 minutes to skip-to-my-lou-my-darling before I had to be in the office. That meant I had five minutes to invest in a non-Folgers caffeine fix at the local coffee brew-ha-ha. The one place that I've been frequenting, which won me over because I am easily swayed by a "Tenth Cup Free" punch card, is not known for their speedy pace in coffee preparation. As much as I snobbishly prefer an establishment that offers Metropolis/Intelligentsia brands over Starfucks, I gotta hand it to the Corporate Cup o' Joe chain for their fast food efficiency. I am spoiled by the immediacy and I demand it, America.

But I couldn't demand it today. I peered in the window and saw two people ahead of me. I took a deep breath and decided to take the risk for the much needed caffeine fix. Before me was a mom toting a cabbage baby (not a Cabbage Patch baby doll, but a baby that kinda looked like a cabbage) and was doing everyone a favor by ordering half the menu. Next was the lady who said "she was in a hurry" and yet decided to order a coffee equivalent of a banana split sundae. Okay. Deep breath, check the time, I now had ten minutes to haul ass to work...

I stepped up and stared at the the girl who was going to make my dream a reality. We were in this together. We would work as a team and it was up to us to pass the baton effectively.

"I'll have a medium coffee and a banana."
"2.72."
"Thanks."

Boom. Fuck y'all, this is how I roll. I glared at the mom who was trying to instruct her cabbage baby not to eat the biscotte wrapped in plastic and exited with nine minutes to spare.

Nine minutes? Fuck. Nine minutes equaled "gotta book it" pace.

I had to run. You'd think that if I walked to the office it wouldn't be a big deal. I'd show up, what, maybe five minutes late? No reason to shit, right? Thing is, I've played my tardy card so many times at this job I was offered the role of Corky in a "Life Goes On" spin off. (Cue politically incorrect rim shot.) I couldn't be late.

I had to run with a cup of coffee in my hand. I am a moron who likes good coffee and apparently am willing to suffer to get a sip of some. Please, someone invent (and then give me credit) a travel mug for when you're running late to work and also running to work late. Wait, that's just a thermos. Okay, problem solved, nevermind. My Grande became a Tall, then the Tall became a Short, then the Short to Shot as the liquid splashed out of the cup. I looked like I just attended a coffee tasting at a Gwar show or was training Gallagher on his first day as a barista.

But I made it on time. Scalded hands and Jackson Pollack'd pants and all.