And now for the second entry in The Official Endofline.ca First Annual Hyper-Intelligent Penguins’ Choice Blogiversary Contest:
Star Fish, by Dr Destructo.
MCP
I watched Tron last night for no good reason. For such a cheesy Disney movie, it’s a real blast from the proverbial past. And it’s always fun to watch Bruce Boxleitner put five different objectives into every line. His style is reminiscent of Shatner, actually.
Incidentally, I borrowed the name of this site from Tron. “END OF LINE” is how the MCP ends each communication with Dillinger. Here’s a sound clip from moviesounds.com: tronendofline.wav.
Tron fans (and people who have involuntarily watched the movie) may enjoy www.tron-sector.com.
Doodling
Ted Q. Tickle, a mild-mannered manicurist, was accidentally exposed to a batch of radioactive nail polish. He quickly discovered that he had acquired the power to extend his thumbnail to any length!
As Thumbnail Man, he battles crime with the help of Parking Penguin, the only flightless fowl capable of parking a car.
First contest entry is in
Treefen has come through with some stunningly funny and surreal dialogue in a TOS-esque (it’s a word now) style for the EOL blogiversary contest. Don’t drink milk while you read this or it will surely come out your nose.
Treefen_entry.pdf (~80KB, requires Acrobat Reader)
Beep beep beep beep beep beep…
Like a great many other cubicle-dwellers, I began my day today thinking about my alarm clock. When I say that I was thinking about it, I mean that I might have actually started my day by saying fuck off and die to my alarm clock, before bashing it over the head (if it can be said to have one) with my open hand. And then I wondered why the alarm went off at all, because I never use the alarm.
I like clocks. I have an interesting relationship with them. (Patricia will very likely misread that last sentence.) Clocks, especially analog ones, are nice to look at. They’re simple. Some of them tick. Some of them tock. Others do both alternately. So I like to keep them around just for their aesthetic appeal.
But the thing is, I don’t use them for anything. I don’t wear a wristwatch. I don’t wake up to an alarm in the morning. And I don’t refer to them much. In fact, the clock in my living room has black hands on a black background, which makes it impossible to read in almost any light. That’s why I like it.
So I don’t seem to need clocks — I just never seem to be late (usually), and I never oversleep. I have a theory about this. My theory is that I’ve had these ticking clocks around me for so long, that I subconsciously count the seconds until it’s time to get up. My subconscious mind is obviously better with numbers than I am.
This leads me to wonder how I came to start my day by swearing at my clock. Maybe my subconscious needed a break from counting seconds, turned on the alarm while I was distracted by something, and took the night off.
Well I don’t like it. I decided to take action. I explained to my subconscious in a very clear sequence of Rorschach inkblots that I dislike the alarm and something else about trains going into tunnels. Obviously, my subconscious had the upper hand in that exchange.
The post-hypnotic suggestion wasn’t successful either. Apparently I bark whenever someone mentions “time”.
I don’t know what to do. Maybe I’ll give it some time WOOF and things will return to normal. I just wish I had a snooze button.