Quotable quotes
With or without religion, you would have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion.
- Steven Weinberg
GeekBrit's AquariumIt's SUPPOSED to be about how I'm setting up a marine nano-aquarium, but I get so easily distracted that this blog could also be about religion, politics, almost anything except sport... This site's address is www.geekbrit.blogspot.com |
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With or without religion, you would have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion.
![]() | I am:Robert A. HeinleinBeginning with technological action stories and progressing to epics with religious overtones, this take-no-prisoners writer racked up some huge sales numbers. |
Well, I can't tell you about the outcome of the show, and I'm not even sure I can tell you how I did as a contestant in "The Mob" - I'll just say I didn't disgrace myself. Apart from the legal aspects, I wouldn't want to spoil the fun ;)
My daughter Emmy sent me this youtube clip of one of her friends perfroming live at the St George Applefest in Canada - I think this young lady will go far. Remember, you saw her here first!
Ok, this caught my attention when I was smurfing through ebay today:
I just found a couple of letters that I wrote for my friend's online magazine "ChicNeanderthal" a few years ago, and thought I'd share them with you...
As the duly elected representative of the people, vis-a-vis the Council of Elders, Shamans and Tribal-chiefs, I am writing to inform you that the Council has today initiated legal procedings to have this den of iniquity, this hotbed of dangerous new ways of thinking, this so-called "ChicNeanderthal" wound up.
We have consulted the highest legal baboons, and they concur with our contention that incitement to evolution is a grave contravention of natural law. Remember what happened to our good friends the Australiopilithicans? Evolved specialised mouthparts to drink happy-juice from the shub-shub plant just as the shub-shub plant evolved into Stinking Milkwort. One generation and they were gone. That's what evolution does for you, young man.
Honestly, you've got it coming to you, what with your fancy lah-di-dah friends with their fancy names like "Alf", "Bert" and "Elsie". Zog was good enough for me, your grandfather and so on for as many generations as we can count. Er.. that's about three I think, I'll have to consult the lemurs on that one.
Be warned, you young fops, I'm not saying that I have any control over the more militant Neanderthals, but there's those who say that the editors of ChicNeanderthal have gone too far, and that this HERESY AND POISON OF THE MIND WILL BE WIPED FROM THE FACE OF THE EARTH WITH THE FIRE THAT BURNS AND MAKES DAMP THINGS DRY. Damn. I think I might have given away a guild secret there.
On a more personal note, could you bring a few copies of your newspaper round when you come home? We're almost completely out in the privy. Oh, and Mum says to look in on your Aunt Auguthta when you get time, because the mammoths are eating her washing again.
Zog Wogan-Golightly, Elected Elder of Little Dumpling, Wimpstonshire
Sir, this is a weighty matter indeed. Your thinly-veiled threats of violence are of no consequence to us. Evolution is a one-way superhighway to the myriad campfires in the sky, and ChicNeanderthal is determined to lead the way. I feel an editorial coming on. And the baboons are liars.
Tell Mum I've got an idea for keeping the mammoths away from Auntie's washing. Can she get me lots of pointy sticks and some string from the shops?
My good friend Wilkins and I were recently engaged in idle chatter down at the communal privy, when Wilkins' attention was captured by a scrap from one of the issues of your disreputable journal. I was concerned when Wilkins put the article to one side rather than use it for its intended purpose, but made no comment on the matter at the time. Wilkins gave me a cheery wave and said that he'd see me later, as he "had to see a man about a Norse".
Somewhat perturbed, I made all haste to return home and rapidly thumbed through the enormous pile of unsold back issues of your journal. [Mum says can you let her know when you're going to find somewhere to put these, as she's sick to the back teeth of vacuuming around them. I'd have thought that since her vacuum cleaner consists of a short pipe, her own lung-power and a spittoon, she'd be grateful for anything that took up some floorspace - but I digress.]
At last, I found the article that had so caught Wilkins' imagination - the misspelling of the word "Flagellate" in one of the headlines on that particular page is I think, unique. With a growing sense of alarm, I read how ChicNeanderthal is recommending that certain breeds of Scandinavian are suitable for ploughing, pulling carts and even riding and jumping. No wonder Wilkins had been sitting there with a bemused smile on his face and steam gently escaping from his open-toe plimsolls. Without delay, I set off to find the poor wretch - immediately after enjoying a nice round of club sandwiches (although some of the clubs still had bits of hair stuck to them), and helping to dislodge a small mammal of some kind from the back of your Mum's throat.
I knew exactly where Wilkins would be. There he was on the beach amongst a crowd of proto-Vikings excitedly waving his scrap of paper around and trying to explain the concepts of saddlery as he understood them from your article. One of the strangely-garbed members of Wilkin's audience took off the knotted rope contraption that Wilkins had been trying to put over his head, rubbed his jaw and called out something to one of his companions on their boat. Immediately a fearsome four-legged creature, of great size and snorting like a man in desperate need of a pint of warm beer was brought ashore, led by someone holding something very like Wilkins' rope contraption. The Viking pointed to the creature, then to your article, and kept saying something like "Orse! It is Orse!".
Well, of course Wilkins was incensed that this stupid Johnny Foreigner could think that he wanted anything to do with such a loathsome creature, all nose teeth and very hard feet. He politely explained that if the gentleman would kindly hand over one or two of those rather charming young Norse girls, he could be on his way. For some reason the Viking took exception to this, and with a bellow first bloodied Wilkin's nose, then placed his ceremonial horned helmet somewhere from which it has taken simply ages to extract. Well, if he wants it back, he's going to have to clean it himself, that's all I can say.
I of course acquitted myself admirably in the "lives to fight another day" stakes. I have recommended an excellent lawyer to Wilkins, and he'll be in touch with you shortly, unless you'd like to offer an out-of-court settlement for the reckless and dangerous advice you gave in the article? And you got a typographical error in every single instance of the word "Norse". It really makes me wonder what the education system is coming to. Honestly, I really think its time to go back the old ways. The Grannys looking after the kids until they're old enough to understand the concept of "Kill something and eat it". Never did me any harm.
By the way, Aunt Auguthta says thank you for the "fence", but should it be inside or outside the house, cause the only reason the mammoths have stopped eating her washing is because she can't get out to hang it up on the line any more.
Yours,
Zog Wogan-Golightly
Thank you, Mr Wogan-Golightly, for your letter.
I am naturally very concerned that errata published by this journal might cause "misunderstandings" but I am rather more concerned that you would blame ChicNeanderthal for your friends foolishness. Before you take umbrage let me explain. I have recovered the article to which you refer from our database and can tell you that I see no way to misinterpret the text as anything other than what it is - a tutorial on Macrame. There is no mention of carts; there is nothing at all about Scandinavian females and I would suggest that your friend's misreading of "plaiting" as the allusive "ploughing" is significant of his state of mind.
I do sympathise with you, Mr Wogan-Golightly but I really don't think your friend Wilkins needs a lawyer (yet.)
Please don't let me discourage your correspondence - feel free to sue as often as you like from March of next year because the publicity can only help the sale of genuine "adult rated" material in our newest, nudest publication - ChickNeanderthal. (Ed.)
My thanks to Dr John for choosing my humble blog as today's selected site, and thank you also to those of you who stopped by - I don't think I've ever seen so many comments on one of my postings. I hope some of you wandered down to other postings.
Yesterday was absolutely gruelling. For some time now, Mrs Geekbrit has wanted to be a contestant on Deal or No Deal (a TV game show where you select random cases numbered one to 26 containing a cash value of 1 penny to $1,000,000, while a 'banker' tries to tempt you to leave the game early by offering sums of money based on the odds that you're going to be left with a high value case).
http://www.guardian.co.uk/usa/story/0,,1938434,00.html?gusrc=rss&feed=12
Oh my good grief... what a SCHMUCK I have been to fork out $2.49 every few months for the privilege of downloading a ropy old ringtone from the limited selection offered by my phone network!