WHAT'S A FØFEE?

SoTUnight is a special one in our house; we gather together around the softly glowing sony to remember and reflect on the past year. We munch sugared partisansnaps and sip warm skepticnog (Papa's glass always spiked with a little cinna-cism); we snuggle, warm against the winter chill, and, rapt, listen.

Usually the holiday ends with the opposition's response. This year, though, we didn't take down the decorations —the bumperstickers and partyposters, lapelpins and snide status updates— 'til old Snarky Jon made his day-after visit.

So from our family to yours, a Post-SoTU Day greeting.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Speech Therapy
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Health Care Crisis

Ok folks. Art has reached its apotheosis. All you painters, sculptors, musicians and poets, nice try. Thanks for playing. Go do something useful, because ya done got served!

First there was Arnold "We Are Here to Pump You Up (In Your Spirit Muscles)!" Friberg.

Then the gentler, more photorealistic Del "Ja, den där er Jesus!" Parson.

And we can't forget Thomas "Paint the Light!" Kincade.

But now a new luminary graces us with his art. An art to end all art. Jon "It's a McNaughton!" McNaughton.

BEHOLD!



I know, you're stunned. But there's more. Just in case you're like me, and The Full Meaning of this marvelous, "symbol*"-laden Depiction of Pure Truth (ya heard?) overcomes your aesthetic and congnitive capacities, the Artist has provided (via the magic of the interwebs) an explanatory apparatus here. Trail your mouse pointer over the various Symbols to see their explanations rendered in Truth No Less Powerful for Its Clarity.

And if those explanations aren't enough, you can always join me in taking one of Brother McNaughton's workshops. Know this, though:

One last word—I will endeavor to teach you everything I know except for one thing—"The Grand Master Secret." This is the most important principle I can teach, but I am cautious to whom I reveal it. I have had only a handful of students who have solved the code in the back of the wordbook. I truly believe it is the key to knowledge.

I'm totally going to figure out that code. (I wonder if Brother McNaughton's Grand Master Secret is anything like this guy's.)

Post your favorite parts in the comments section, that we all may be edified. (Note: be sure to check out the titles of books and the court cases littering the steps. And don't forget to look in the sky.)

UPDATE: A friend sent me this alternative interpretation. Once again, let your mouse do the walking.

UPDATE 2: Another friend sent me this parody, which is only slightly less frightening than the original. Witness: "One Nation under Chthulu."

___________
*Warning: Symbols not actually symbols, but literal depictions. From the OED: symbol (n.), 2. a. Something that stands for, represents, or denotes something else (not by exact resemblance, but by vague suggestion, or by some accidental or conventional relation); esp. a material object representing or taken to represent something immaterial or abstract, as a being, idea, quality, or condition; a representative or typical figure, sign, or token. (Emphasis mine.)

Credits: Hat tip to Old Sport for bringing this wonder to my attention in the first place, and to Swearing Elder for directing me to the workshops.

RIP, Patrick.




We'll sleep well knowing you're killing Commies in heaven...

An oldie but goodie.

... is a beautiful thing. Toyota should hire me to run their current ad campaign.

This guy is one of my favorite comics.

Thanks to:

:: the enlightened minds at Penn State's Residential Computing Office who have finally allowed us to join the WiFi-enabled world;

:: the geniuses at Apple Computer for designing a beautiful little wireless router that not only shoots a full-bars WiFi signal throughout my entire home*, but also enables the playing of my entire music library (stored on a hard drive in my office) via speakers plugged into the said router in my living room;

:: those same geniuses for creating a little program called Remote that turns Miss Kitti's iPod Touch into a full-function wireless remote for said music so that I don't have to run into the office every time I want to play a different song/podcast/anything my heart desires;

:: a wife who indulges my tech fetish and always makes me feel appreciated (even when all I've done is to take credit for all of the above, as if I had anything to do with it);

:: family** and friends for advice and experience;

:: life, for being not so bad, after all; and

:: Diet Coke, just because.

___________
*All the while irradiating me and mine to a degree that I'd probably best not think about.
**I'd link to you, too, Grady Tripp, if only you were a webpage.

This made me think of you.
There's always plenty of room on the back of my horse for you!

Which of these is not like the other?

• It's 8 am.
• I've been up for an hour.
• Stake Conference is today.
  

I got up early on No Church, No Guilt Sunday to brown a roast and get it in the oven. We're celebrating our little semiapostate community by having Sunday dinner with these wonderful people, and I'm cooking. In addition to the roast, I'm making the most delicious mashed potatoes you've never imagined could even exist. That's how good they are.*

Start with 4 pounds or so of Yukon Gold potatoes. They're the right mix of crumbly starchy goodness and firm newpotato texture. After peeling, cut them into 1" slices and rinse them well under some warm water (you wanna get rid of as much extra superfluous starch as possible). Cover them and bring them to a boil, then reduce the heat to a simmer. Cook about 20 minutes, or until a fork goes easily through a slice.

In the meantime, melt together a stick and a half of butter and a cup of heavy cream**. Keep this velvety mixture warm on the stove while the potatoes cook.

When they're done cooking, drain the potatoes (reserving some of the water, if you want, for the gravy). Then return them to the hot dutchoven and stir them around over heat to dry them out. They'll start to break apart; that's fine. Just dry them out as well as you can for a couple of minutes.

If you have a potato ricer, bust it out and get to ricin'. Otherwise use a hand masher or other nonelectric appliance. (I usually end up doing the last few seconds of mixing in our Kitchenaid, but too much beating can turn otherwise delectable starches gummy and grainy.)

When the potatoes are dry and mashed, fold in the warm butter and cream, along with salt and pepper to taste. If desired, stir the mix using an electric mixer, but be careful!

Now try them. You should probably be sitting down first; I can't be held responsible if your knees buckle and you pass out. Not enough of an image to convince you of this recipe's superiority to all things tuber? Let me try this:

You don't need gravy for these potatoes. (And that's coming from my mother's designated gravy taster (ie, Gravy Freak #1).)

___________

* I got this recipe from my favorite cooking show: PBS's America's Test Kitchen. The host is so me: geeky, bespectacled and surrounded by women with whom he should by no logical measure be able to associate.
** Don't even think about skimping on this. I suppose you could use half-and-half or whole milk. But at least once try this recipe as is.

So I know I should post something original, but I'm writing a talk for tomorrow and the cognitive dissonance is too much. As Doc Holladay once said (in a movie where he was played by Val Kilmer): my hypocrisy knows no bounds.

Warning: The following is rated R for Politics-related Profanity

Thanks to DT, my favorite civil servant, for sending this to me. (He also sent the Onion video I posted just below.)

Yeah, this is about my speed.

So, I know I'm being lame and spoiling this, but I have a pretty strict policy against forwarding e-mails. If anyone's interested in my responses to Nicea's questions, click on!

1. What is your occupation? See my blog profile.

2. What color are your socks right now? Since I'm currently sandal-clad, I have no socks on (despite really wishing I did. But as your friend and mine maintains, "It is much better to look good than to feel good.")

3. What are you listening to right now? My desk fan whirring pleasantly; the tap of my ancient keyboard's teclas*.

4. What was the last thing that you ate? My words.

5. Can you drive a stick shift? Most days.

6. Last person you spoke to on the phone? The Other Woman

7. Do you like the person who sent this to you? I thought this was about me! (Come on, Nicea. You're better than that.)

8. How old are you today? Same age as Jesus was when he was crucified. (This blog is a work of fiction. No similarities between any person living or dead is intended, and any such similarity is purely coincidental.)

9. What is your favorite sport to watch? The Portland Trailblazers during the late nineties.

10. What is your favorite drink? The Sweet, Sweet Nectar of Life.

11. Have you ever dyed your hair? Not to my knowledge. But I have shaved it completely off, and had it permed into a beautiful blonde Mo-fro.

12. Favorite food? Pretty much anything accompanied by the Sweet, Sweet Nectar of Life.

13. Do you come to a complete stop at stop signs? Relatively.

14. What was the last movie you watched? The Fall

15. Favorite day of the year? Stake conference. (a.k.a. No Church, No Guilt Sunday)

16. How do you vent anger? Mostly through various orifices.

17. What was your favorite toy as a child? Armatron

18. What is your favorite season? Autumn.

19. Cherries or Blueberries? Not unless they put 'em in Diet Coke.

20. If you could have any super power, what would it be? I already do have a super power. See here.

21. Do you want your friends to e-mail you back? I have friends?

22. Who is the most likely to respond? The voices in The Other Woman's head.

23. Who is least likely to respond? God.

24. Living arrangements? By the skin of my teeth. [Nicea wrote: Single family house with husband (where can I get one of those? My townhome didn't come with a spouse.)]

25. When was the last time you cried? Real men don't cry. (This morning.)

26. What is on the floor of your closet? Hopes, dreams... Really, what isn't?

27. Who is the friend you have had the longest that you are sending to? Again, I'm confused. I have friends?

28. What did you do last night? Enjoyed a nightmare about arguing with my advisor, then trying to buy weed from my building's super. (He didn't have any.)

30. What inspires you? Oxygen, mostly. Also nitrogen and other trace gases.

31. What are you most afraid of? That I am powerful beyond measure.

32. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers? See #12.

33. Favorite dog breed? Oscar Meyer Bun Length.

34. Favorite day of the week? Yesterday.

35. How many states have you lived in? 5.

36. Favorite TV show? Arrested Development

*teclas = Spanish for keys, as in piano or keyboard. The Spanish word is just so much better.

I think Mom would have laughed.

From our favorite health care professional, a new challenge:

succinct
dendrite
candid
jack
knoll*
sit
Manhattan
desperate
frog
doodle
quieter
silent
view
zebra
deaf moron**
crud
gash

*Kudos to Kevin Kevypoo!
**Way to bite it, me.

So Sister the Elder has an embarrassing confession over at The Blog Upon Which the Bim Never Sets.

In the spirit of sibling solidarity, I share the following exchange of a few weeks ago:

Grace: Dad, I think you're super.
Me: Wow. Thanks, sweetheart! I think you're super, too.
Grace: No, I mean you're like a super hero. You have super powers.
Me: Really? What's my super power?
Grace: Sleeping.

So come this Sunday, all hail Rip Van Sheepish.

This one's from Brian:

flower
plain
rose
guild
high*
poll
wrap
doe
witch
pray**
hair
fine
I †
you
to
know
your
all
be
but
me
peak††
bored
neigh

* Nice work, Kitti!
** Great work, sherry carpet!
† Very nice, Natalie!
†† Rock on, Jaime!

Here's the next installment for those of you who cracked the first game:

hearth
bonfire
éclair
waterlily
repair
firefly
cairn
dearth
fired
lair
earth
prairie
hairy*
earthen
waterlogged
waterfall**
aired
campfire

* Jaime wins!
** All hail Annie!