DEET...DEET DEET...FJORDNEWS...DEET...DEET..

With the recent (and finally) scientific push to actually, do something in order to protect us from the growing mummy menace (i.e. "The Global War on Horror") I've been invited as the key note speaker at a symposium in NYC tomorrow evening. Afterwards, I'll be pressing the flesh at East Siiiide fundraisers and will hopefully meet some of the other "real" players - at least on the Atlantic side of things.


Meanwhile...

here's some enlightening mummy news that we've been highlighting through 2006.

Chinese Mummy.
L.A. mummy.
Mummy bank robbers

-Tsunami-

But then today...

There appears to be a greater effort into mummy destruction than I previously realized. Seems now even the mysterious and elusive (and nearly constantly maligned) dentists are working on research into how to stop the mummy onslaught!

It seems to me that this research is going to have a lot of practical applications. I don't know why this news isn't on the front page of every newspaper, encouraging others to jump into the field. There are a LOT of R&D contracts going around right now with the Global War on Horror.

'Course, right after that last post...

there's this.

Yes, sadly, more mummy dogs popping up. And right after I thought we had finally made a little progress in this War on Horror.

In better news...
I was able to find a couple video-clips from SRL, working on some robots...at least someone's working on something that might actually help.
Here and here.

Took ya long enough...

Finally, some good science work on this mummy issue I've been flogging for the duration of 2006.












-the caption reads-
Stanford University radiologists used a CT scanner to look inside an unopened, intact 2000-year-old mummy.

We're watching yoooou!
Fuckin' mummy.


thanks bbc.

The Toast of the Town made up some rules about lunch

I thought I should post them. Kindly used without even asking.

Since there has been some confusion on what to do during your
"relaxing" Lunch/Dinner hour/ half-hour, these are some rules I set up to follow
regarding how it is spent.

1) One has the right to spend Lunch/Dinner by themselves
2) One has the right to spend it the way they want so long as it does
not affects another's enjoyment of their Lunch/Dinner
3) One may invite someone to Lunch/Dinner.
A)One may spend this time with people with the understanding
that it is for the sake of the Lunch/Dinner.
a)This is not a commitment. This is Lunch/Dinner, not
a marriage.
b) There is no such thing as a universal invitation.
B) One may decline an invitation(excuse is Optional).
C) One is not "stood up" to Lunch/Dinner if one is not invited
to Lunch/Dinner (see Rule #1)

4) If Person A is out for Lunch/Dinner and runs into Person B, Person A
may to join B if Person B chooses to revoke Rule #1
5) Food and drama don't mix. This isn't "Hell's Kitchen"
6) What's said at Lunch/Dinner, stays at Lunch/Dinner. . . unless Rule
#2 is broken.
7) See Rule #1


Now that this is established, I can continue on with my menu reading .

PS Yeah, I'm a jerk. . .


Fjord - helping luncheon-goers everywhere. Know your rights!

And...GO!

Okay kids we got a lot to do and a short time to do it.

At the moment I'm working on a project for television which (altho it's
tippy-top secret, I'll spill a little of the beans) is a mashup of
every
popular television show ever. Only BETTER~!

Upon completion of the pilot episode I plan to be very, very rich.

I liked this one...

I give you, Pop.

Altho, I'm afraid I don't share Pop's optimism about the Swiss and pacifism. I think they're insidiously plotting their next move of global domination. I also suspect they have a time machine.

Thursday entered the room softly...

wearing slippers that were sewn in the shape of rabbits.
"Shhhh," came out of his mouth. Then he whispered, "Try not to wake
the little ones!"

I attended the Banksy show on Saturday, and it was definitely worth it.
What was striking was for a guy with no known public face, and from
what I gathered was a small public following...the place was packed.
Since the exhibition took place in a artsy-sized warehouse space, that's
actually saying something. I'm not at liberty to say how many of those
visiting were just L.A. scenesters, and how many were actually fans,
but Banksy's stuff is pretty accessible, and it'd be hard to see this
many pieces of his work and not walk away thinking it was pretty cool.

I took some random shots - but since my technology-issues - I seem to have misplaced my usb cable that fits my digi-cam. Until I find it, we'll have to settle for some more...err, public shots...

The most mind-boggling piece was the elephant. It took me a
little bit of time to process...I thought it was stuffed. Then after
I saw it move, a few more seconds before thinking, "cool - animatronic
robot elephant!" Then I watched it eat some hay. "Holy crap! Real
elephant! Stenciled to look like the wallpaper."

Anyways - there was some press about the elephant where some
people got pretty mad at him for using a real creature for this piece. I'm not going
to say I didn't feel a little sorry for the guy, but got a hell of a lot
more out of the experience when I read the back of his little card...

There's an elephant in the room.
There's a problem that we never talk about.
The fact is life isn't getting any fairer.
-1.7 Billion people have no access to clean drinking water.
-20 Billion people live below the poverty line.
-Every day hundreds of people are made to feel physically sick by morons at art shows telling them how bad the world is but never actually doing something about it.

Anybody want a free glass of wine?

***
I haven't seen anything else pop up on the radar...so I'm assuming Banksy's skipped town.


In a very Bansky-esque performance there's this guy who dressed up like
a terra cotta soldier in china - and jumped in with the rest of them, and stood really still while guards looked around for him. If that's not art, I dunno what is.

I've been a bad, bad blogger

Yeah - but whatchoo gonna do huh?

Cut off my federal funding?
Stop payments on my nubile young women account?
Steal my blogspot address? Good luck!
Write me nastygrams?

You and I both know, doing even one of those will take waaaay too much time, since the only reason you swing by is to consume some free content while yer surfing around looking for free content.

So here's one more link to wrap up this totally uninspiring week.

Tho I did think the previous post was kinda clever.

Happy Friday

DR. ROBOT!!!

Sooo cool!

Snake-arm robots on the other hand can move in up to 30 different directions at once. Their supple bodies can bend and flex to fit the shape of the confining space.

So this story came along and then I stumbled upon THIS

Which is cool 'cause it says...The motions are coordinated and smooth because his left arm is a bionic device controlled by his brain. He thinks, "Close hand," and electrical signals sent through surgically re-routed nerves make it happen.

So, it's now perfectly logical to assume that it's possible for there to be...This guy!

This weekend in L.A.

Here's the Banksy goods.

See ya there.

The neighbor of the beast

*sigh*

I didn't realize that yesterday's post was 666. That would have been cool to know at the time. Anyways, I'm just hyping the news that our favorite grafitti artist BANKSY (who we've covered previously) is in town and stirring up trouble. He just put a blow up doll dressed like a Guantanimo Bay prisoner in Disneyland.

If I see anything else, I'll letcha' know.

More of the same...

Busy on another project, so no time for creating Fjordian masterpieces.

But, there's a great little net-show called "the show." Most are very funny, but I really liked this one alot.

This is just pretty awesome

cat

Some Thursday Night Lite Fiction For Youse

She didn't seem like the kind of girl who would rip the legs off of a
cricket. But then again, how well do you know anyone? The incident
happened shortly after I was fired from my sex-line phone-chat job.
I'm not going to say I was good at it, or even that I liked it. But,
loosing that job put me into a state of unease over my liquidity.

Since I didn't have any prospects, and there are only four things I
hate more than daytime teevee, (tuna, cockroaches, acid burns, and phone
companies, ohh, and clowns. Okay - five things...maybe more - never
really thought about it until now.)

Anyways, for fun I would go down to the more seedy districts of the
metropolis - and meander around the bums and muggers, and con-men.
This gave me a marginal thrill, since I knew even if I got rolled or taken,
I really had so little to loose that it would be far cheaper than going
to a movie.

So around there one afternoon, I bumped into her coming out of one of
those falling down hotels that might have been nice back in the day.
She had the look in her face like she wasn't in a hurry to get
to her destination, and I wasn't going anywhere - so we started
talking.

After a walking who knows where, talking about crazy shit like black
holes, urban renewal, micro-climates, and good war movies, we ended up
back at her hotel room with a cheap bottle of wine, or whisky or
something that tasted awful, peeled skin off the inside of your
stomach, and did a number on your brain-pan. That was the beginning of what
became a bi-weekly ritual. It wasn't like it was an amorous thing, it
was just that she was nice to me, and I like it when people are nice to
me. Plus, there was that whole daytime teevee thing.

About two weeks down the line another fellow started showing up at her
place, with the name of Rex Bowen. I don't know if she knew him from before, or if she met him after me, but it was her place, and she could invite in whoever she wanted. But Rex couldn't talk in a conversation if his life depended on it.

Rex wasn't all that bad of a guy, but he had annoying streaks. Like he'd come in all strung out on meth, and then drink some of our drink and start singing show-tunes, or worse, lousy renditions of Deep Purple and Motorhead. I didn't think much of it, cause she kept on opening the door for him when he came around, I just got ready to cringe whenever he came by.

Anyways this one time he comes in - lit up like an electrical storm - and grabs the bottle, slams down a good fourth of it, and then begins singing this ridiculous made-up tune that went something like this.

Motion picture
Mo-tion Pic-ture
I wanna be in a motion picture...
motion
picture...
motion
picture
I wanna be in a motion picture...

Well, from out of nowhere this girl shouts out at the top of her lungs - and I mean a real scream,
"REX YOU RETARDED DOOF! SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Only Rex was waaay too into his song to care. I mean, he was feeling the groove. Swaying around the room with a bottle in one hand, and his other clenched around an air microphone.

Mo-tion Pic-ture
Mo-tion Pic-ture
I wanna be in a motion picture...lalalala

So she came up from his side, and from out of nowhere, latched a handcuff around the wrist that had the bottle. And with shocking strength, pulled him straight to the iron bedframe - at least 10 feet away, and locked the other bracelet around a big pole. The big doof barely even noticed. He just kept on singing his damn stupid song.

I wanna be in a motion picture.

"Rex," she said loudly and clearly. "If you don't shut up right now, I'm going to pull off your legs." He really didn't hear her. Or else, he really didn't believe her. That was, in my opinion, his mistake.

She got up, and went into a closet. She dragged out a large, and very heavy cardboard box. In the middle of the room, she opened it, and pulled out a big winch - like the kind you see on the front of heavy Army trucks. She carried it into the bathroom, which was sort of kitty-corner from the bed. There were some clanking noises that came from in there. Then she came out with a cable, and wrapped it around Rex's legs. Rex was still lost in song.

Mo-tion pic-ture, mo-tion, picture, motion picture, I wanna be in a...

"I'll show you a fucking motion picture." She said, walked into the bathroom, and the next thing I knew there was the sound of mechanical grating, and the cable got tighter. Rex stopped singing, and started screaming. I watched as his pants got tighter around his legs,
and his body began to straighten out - pulled from the one arm handcuffed to the
bed rail, and his legs wrapped around a winch cable. I decided it would be best if I didn't watch the rest.

When I opened my eyes, the bed was across the room, Rex was pouring blood from two stumps where his legs used to be, and she was covered in blood from head to toe. She said,
"How's that for a goddamn motion picture."
I paused for a second, and spoke,
"I think we're going to need more booze. I'll go get some. Start figuring out how to clean this shit up." I stood up and headed for the door.
"Yeah," She said, "that sounds like a good idea. I sure can't go out for anything!" She cackled madly as I walked out.

I walked away from the scene, never intending to buy her, or us anything ever again. She was a nice girl. She didn't seem like the kind of girl who would rip the legs off of a cricket. God, did I just think "cricket?" I must not be in the right frame of mind after just going through all that. She didn't seem like the kind of girl who would rip the legs off of a man. But then again, how well do you know anyone?

It's not as exciting a comeback as I'd hoped...

But I have been trying to catch up on all the information I've been missing over the last two months.

However, I did find some suuuper kickass rayguns!

Happy hunchbacking.

How to tell the difference

between a bomb and things that are not bombs.

Yeah - the last few months have been grim

But I've still been looking out for yas.

My explanation is a couple posts down. But this is worth checking out.

Mmmmm...

Just exactly what did you expect?

Where'd you go?

I miss you so...seems like forever since you've been gone...

So - after numerous adventures, tall tales, long stories, and hideous piles of crap...we're back up here at the West Coast Branch of Fjord.

In the last week and a half, I've violated the southern boarder, spread my own particular brand of mayhem across Mexico (which I highly recommend) slept for two days, took a jet to the pacific northwest for a long weekend of island-hopping around the San Juan Islands.

Now that the vacation gods have been satiated, consider me back - cool as fuck, dangerous as hell.

-Tsunami-