Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Saturday, August 28, 2010
something stupid I wrote about falcons
Robin-
>
> Let ME tell you a thing or two about falcons, or as
> I like to call them, our avian death-dealers. First
> off, falcons love to hunt smaller birds, like
> pigeons and swifts. The fact that your name is
> Robin doesn't bode well for your proposed ownership
> of a falcon; the falcon may try to kill you. The
> same goes for people with names like Jay, Wren, etc.
> This poor guy Rich and I knew in high school,
> Western Hummingbird, was slaughtered by a falcon he
> tried to tame. Another interesting story regards
> Trav's and my friend Murray, who is a talking
> squirrel. Murray was once hunted by a falcon, but
> managed to talk his way out of a jam and is now
> living somewhere in Africa.
>
> Another thing is, falcons dive-bomb their prey.
> They routinely reach 180 mph in these dives and hit
> the poor bastards from above with a wicked array of
> talons and beak. I heard that once three falcons
> were hunting a herd of elephants and dive-bombed
> STRAIGHT THROUGH the damned elephants! Put a hole
> in 'em the size of a goodyear tire, no b.s.! Be
> careful that when you attempt to have your falcon
> take out the aforementioned pigeon's nest, he
> doesn't just kill hisself by boring a hole deep,
> deep in to the ground, perhaps to China. A couple
> last facts about falcons that almost no one but me
> knows-- falcons can smell fear, falcons dine
> exclusively on blood and pixiedust, falcons and
> wolves share a common language, falcons are way
> sweeeeeet, falcons will mess you up, particularly if
> you wear a large rabbit suit (trust me on that one).
> Jesus owned falcons, as did Julius Caesar,
> Napoleon, Bob Barker, Verne Troyer aka Mini-Me, and
> my cousin Ned. Lastly, in naming your noble
> falcon, consider strong, classical names. Don't be
> tempted to do the thing that will piss the falcon
> off and name him Snufflemuffle, or Squeezybigboy, or
> Loveyboo. Falcons kill for less. Name it Malachi,
> like in the Royal Tenenbaums. That movie is rad
> with a capital RAD. Other good names for falcons
> are Patrocles, Amadeus, and Tony Lamont, Jr. Oh,
> and the famed falconer's glove you want to wear? It
> weighs over three thousand pounds and only a select
> few people living today (me) have the strength to
> lift it. Finally, don't train your falcon near a
> children's playground. Unless, of course, you
> despise children like I do. Then, it's a great
> idea!
>
> Please Email me at the International Magnolia Falcon
> Institute with any pertinent, or impertinent
> questions. In the language of the falcon,
> SCREEEEEEEEAAAAAARRRRRR
>
> Let ME tell you a thing or two about falcons, or as
> I like to call them, our avian death-dealers. First
> off, falcons love to hunt smaller birds, like
> pigeons and swifts. The fact that your name is
> Robin doesn't bode well for your proposed ownership
> of a falcon; the falcon may try to kill you. The
> same goes for people with names like Jay, Wren, etc.
> This poor guy Rich and I knew in high school,
> Western Hummingbird, was slaughtered by a falcon he
> tried to tame. Another interesting story regards
> Trav's and my friend Murray, who is a talking
> squirrel. Murray was once hunted by a falcon, but
> managed to talk his way out of a jam and is now
> living somewhere in Africa.
>
> Another thing is, falcons dive-bomb their prey.
> They routinely reach 180 mph in these dives and hit
> the poor bastards from above with a wicked array of
> talons and beak. I heard that once three falcons
> were hunting a herd of elephants and dive-bombed
> STRAIGHT THROUGH the damned elephants! Put a hole
> in 'em the size of a goodyear tire, no b.s.! Be
> careful that when you attempt to have your falcon
> take out the aforementioned pigeon's nest, he
> doesn't just kill hisself by boring a hole deep,
> deep in to the ground, perhaps to China. A couple
> last facts about falcons that almost no one but me
> knows-- falcons can smell fear, falcons dine
> exclusively on blood and pixiedust, falcons and
> wolves share a common language, falcons are way
> sweeeeeet, falcons will mess you up, particularly if
> you wear a large rabbit suit (trust me on that one).
> Jesus owned falcons, as did Julius Caesar,
> Napoleon, Bob Barker, Verne Troyer aka Mini-Me, and
> my cousin Ned. Lastly, in naming your noble
> falcon, consider strong, classical names. Don't be
> tempted to do the thing that will piss the falcon
> off and name him Snufflemuffle, or Squeezybigboy, or
> Loveyboo. Falcons kill for less. Name it Malachi,
> like in the Royal Tenenbaums. That movie is rad
> with a capital RAD. Other good names for falcons
> are Patrocles, Amadeus, and Tony Lamont, Jr. Oh,
> and the famed falconer's glove you want to wear? It
> weighs over three thousand pounds and only a select
> few people living today (me) have the strength to
> lift it. Finally, don't train your falcon near a
> children's playground. Unless, of course, you
> despise children like I do. Then, it's a great
> idea!
>
> Please Email me at the International Magnolia Falcon
> Institute with any pertinent, or impertinent
> questions. In the language of the falcon,
> SCREEEEEEEEAAAAAARRRRRR
honey, I'm home
well, here we are again. you can lay the blame for this mess right at the feet of Special Agent DoubleR, who crawled inside my skull and jerry-rigged enough neurons to misfire a blog posting.
The first and only set of postings here are the product of a mind fevered by oxycodone, chemically-induced and naturally-occurring insomnia, and an overdose of laxatives--recall J. Peterman lost in Burma, mad and emaciated, but still Elaine's boss. Context, okay? Detailing one's minor surgery is a pretty inauspicious way to go about writing things again, it's true. Really, there is no substantive difference between these postings and the "daily journal of Uncle Patterson's bout with the gout". Sad, I know. That's why there's been a shakeup all the way from middle management right to the damn top of this operation. If there's anything of value, literally a-ny-thin-g, to come out of this, we'll really have to knuckle down around this blog and do a better job. Profligacy out! Productivity in! Remember the Maine!
New ground rules: (1) being verbose was a hit at wall street coke parties in the 80s, like in American Psycho or Crocodile Dundee, but I've got to cut down this damned word count! Also, while spelling will always have priority 1 (indeed, above coherence and logic), punctuation and capitalization rules are out. So I guess that might be worse writing, already. Shit. (2) stop being cute. Only a real curmudgeon accuse his curmudgeonly self of being overly-clever. what a douche.
There are probably more ground rules...
Bullet point information of the now:
(where do you get the fucking bullet points on this thing?)
oh. there they are.
What the hell is that supposed to mean? Why did you put that on the internet?! God! Mark Zuckerberg, there is a very special place reserved for you in hell for unleashing this upon us. Let the march of human progress continue towards Stimulus/Response/Consumptive/Automatons!
The first and only set of postings here are the product of a mind fevered by oxycodone, chemically-induced and naturally-occurring insomnia, and an overdose of laxatives--recall J. Peterman lost in Burma, mad and emaciated, but still Elaine's boss. Context, okay? Detailing one's minor surgery is a pretty inauspicious way to go about writing things again, it's true. Really, there is no substantive difference between these postings and the "daily journal of Uncle Patterson's bout with the gout". Sad, I know. That's why there's been a shakeup all the way from middle management right to the damn top of this operation. If there's anything of value, literally a-ny-thin-g, to come out of this, we'll really have to knuckle down around this blog and do a better job. Profligacy out! Productivity in! Remember the Maine!
New ground rules: (1) being verbose was a hit at wall street coke parties in the 80s, like in American Psycho or Crocodile Dundee, but I've got to cut down this damned word count! Also, while spelling will always have priority 1 (indeed, above coherence and logic), punctuation and capitalization rules are out. So I guess that might be worse writing, already. Shit. (2) stop being cute. Only a real curmudgeon accuse his curmudgeonly self of being overly-clever. what a douche.
There are probably more ground rules...
Bullet point information of the now:
(where do you get the fucking bullet points on this thing?)
oh. there they are.
- I've said since the mid-60's that when everyone I know starts getting hitched, I would take a stand and avoid having my summers weekends dominated by a proceeding with a 50% failure rate. Lack of a serious relationship helps me avoid this morass, but suddenly I realize even the people I actually like are tying the knot. There goes that principled platform I'd erected, but damn I hate weddings, generally. And I fucking hate facebook even more for weddings and the comments they elicit. What is in the water these days that the default comment for EVERY single member of the facebook "community" is to proclaim that they (and their significant other) "love you guys sooooo much! So happy!" when people get married or engaged? Clearly, the statistics on armed conflict and world population allow us to infer that there is simply NOT that much love going around in the world. Someone is full of shit.
- That reminds me, how weird is facebook? Kids born from 2005 onwards have no idea what the world of social interaction is like without this....thing. The significance of friending, de-friending, or liking a certain thing boggles my mind. Boggles. There's even some horrid "like" generator that spits out the worst minutiae of the human experience and if that experience is something you relate to, you "like" it. Here are two real examples:
(User) likes "No matter what I get on the computer to do, I always end up on Facebook. on ♥. "
(User) likes I hate when a dream is near the BEST part and someone wakes u up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!...What the hell is that supposed to mean? Why did you put that on the internet?! God! Mark Zuckerberg, there is a very special place reserved for you in hell for unleashing this upon us. Let the march of human progress continue towards Stimulus/Response/Consumptive/Automatons!
- Finishing the assigned summer reading, "A People's History of the United States". Mmm, subversion. It says something about the world that I'm both completely unsurprised and horrified by this book. Do yourself a solid and read it...ask to borrow from me.
- New Tunes for your Zune (just kidding): Empires of the Sun, Holy Ghost!, Van She, Darc Mind, Pnau, Best Coast, Eldridge Gravy and the Court Supreme.
- We can infer that the Tea Party has never occasioned self-reflection, because I'd imagine that their collective heads would explode. Another post for later.
- I promise, I'll do better next time. So much for brevity.
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