Quite possibly the coolest Lego construction ever. Note the Linux book. If you go to his root directory, it will all become very clear.

Thanks to Chris for the link.

justice is: man steals his truck back

justice isn't: man gets away with beating wife

Do you tap your soda can before opening it? Think it makes a difference? Nerdygirl and co. have apparently been running tests since mid September. (link via semaphoria).

I saw Jack Black’s new movie, School of Rock, last night. It was one of those stupid-funny movies that are so cute and wholesome you can’t help but have a good time. Plus it featured the multi-talented Joan Cusack as the prep school principal with a penchant for binge drinking and Stevie Nicks. The last Joan Cusack movie I saw was Grosse Pointe Blank, so I was expecting John Cusack to burst into the movie at any moment. Alas, this was not a Cusack double feature.

The kids also impressed me. They actually seemed to be playing or singing what was coming through the speakers and did a respectable job of acting. As for Jack, he did a good job stretching what are usually bit parts into a full-length Jack movie. He seems to have successfully transferred his on-screen persona to music and back to the screen. But this time, he’s running the show, writing the lyrics, and telling a bunch of prep school kids what to do. Now he just needs to look for musicians in his tax bracket.

I played golf for the first time in my life yesterday. A couple guys on my team at work who started playing golf before I was born invited Prabhat and I to join them on a 4-person team in a tournament called a Scramble. A Scramble is a method of play where all four team members hit the ball, but only the ball that lands closest to the hole is used. Then, everyone drops their ball where the closest ball landed and the process repeats itself until you get within 6 inches of the hole. This ensures the game moves along quickly and other teams don’t get held up behind you.

I borrowed a set of clubs and went to the task of figuring out how this game is played. Golf sure looks easy on TV, but it’s really, really hard in reality. I see it a little like tennis, except the ball is smaller, the racquet is smaller, and the court is friggin’ huge. Oh yeah, and there are other factors affecting play like wind, sand traps, ponds, trees, and other landscaping annoyances. Overall, it took a while for Prabhat and I to actually make contact with the ball. Whiffs were a common occurrence…

What amazed me most about this game is the amount of time spent putzing around. After the ball is hit, you strain your eyes to see where it landed. Then, get in your goofy golf cart and drive around until you find it. Once you find it, you see three other balls in the vicinity and wonder which is yours, picking one with familiar markings. Then, race over to where the other guys are and drop your ball. Take a few practice swings, whack the ball, and watch as it flies off in the wrong direction. Hop in the golf cart and resume the process. The funniest part is that you can drink beer while you play. In how many sports is having a brew possible? Can you drink beer while playing football? Tennis? Basketball? Cycling? I think not. Golf gets points for that.

Afterwards, the tournament organizer handed out cash awards for various accomplishments (longest drive, longest putt, etc) and my team somehow got $20. With our $5 bills in hand, Prabhat and I trucked over to The Flying Saucer and had three rounds of beer. After talking at length about traveling, Germany, India, Golf, linguistics, and who knows what else, we went to California Pizza Kitchen and scarfed two amazing pizzas. It was a good day.

Texas got ripped to shreds by Oklahoma, or we handed them our shreds and offered they be ripped. The amount of turnovers on our part was absolutely embarrassing. I think before we play another game, Mac Brown needs to give those guys a lesson on holding on to the ball. There were several instances where the player was holding the ball at arms length when entering the fray. The football should be securely tucked against the chest or under the arm, not three feet away from the body where it can be knocked away.

I feel sorry for the Texas fans that made the trip to Dallas and stood alongside jeering Sooner fans. Sad sad sad.

I lived in Moscow for about a year and a half from mid '94 to late '95. While I never found anything amusing about the place, the eXile, a local alternative newspaper, seems to have had more success than me. Case in point: the popular black market for pirated movies has taken a nose dive. A columnist quips:

I bought a VHS tape version of Carlito’s Way for 200 rubles and wished the saleswoman luck.

I found out about The Bouncing Souls in ’99. Since then, I have managed to miss three of their Austin shows.

I finally got to see them last night. It was worth the wait. The band sounded tight and they played a good number of the old songs I know and love. The crowd sang along and partook in more stage antics than I’ve ever seen at Emo’s. For every song, at least four people jumped on stage, did a little jig, gave Greg a hug, sang a few words, and threw themselves back onto the throng of bodies. The variety of people in attendance was impressive. There were sad-looking emo-types, hard-core punkers, glasses-wearing old guys (like me, I guess), a fratastic guy here and there, and some people who looked like they were ready to go clubbing.

Anyway, back to the music. While the old songs are by no means dry or devoid of emotion, I’ve noticed that ever since Hopeless Romantic, the Souls have gotten more and more sappy. The music is getting watered down and I fear they’re headed down the wrong road. There was a definite difference between the energy of the spunky old songs and the melodramatic, lackadaisical new songs. The energy just wasn’t there. Worse yet, Greg did not seem to be into the set at all. He looked tired, worn out, drained. Bryan, Pete, and Michael were all in the groove, but Greg seemed to just be talking his way through the songs. I guess the road can get to your sometimes

I did my share of air-punching and OLE’ing and called it a night. For those of you not familiar with the Souls, they are soccer freaks and recorded a song that starts with a nice OLE OLE OLE OLE!!! intro. Despite the fun and the memories of hours spent listening to their albums, I don’t think I’d see the Souls again. The new songs just don’t cut it for me. But if you get the chance, give them one. They put on a good show and I can guarantee that you’ll feel welcome in the audience.

I posted on Blogcritics:

The RIAA needs to start at the root of the problem. The real problem, quite obviously, is radio. Always has been and always will be. What's the deal with playing music for free over airwaves? Radio is like the marajuana of illegal music- it's the gateway to more serious offenses like downloading mp3's. Pre-teens nationwide are carrying the idea of free music from radio to the internet. This needs to be stopped. The solution? Ban radio.

I’m two-thirds of the way through Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being and half sure I’ve got a pretty good idea of what it’s about. What we have here is a book (not novel, mind you) that is divided into three parts: one-third story, one-third analysis of that story, and one-third “the world according to me, the narrator.” Of course these three parts are all interwoven to produce a solid chunk of literary peculiarity.

One of the issues I have with Dostoyevsky is that he makes it entirely too easy to predict what will happen next by giving the reader all the necessary clues. Kundera does the exact opposite. I can never, ever predict what the characters will say or do next, and they do things completely outside the scope of what I would have imagined them to do. One minute, the main character is a doctor. The next, he’s a window washer, capitalizing on numerous opportunities to engage in passionate extracurricular activities with housewives. Though the capitalizing he does is not surprising, his career move is very much so.

Afterwards, the narrator, following the model I explain above, dissects the main character’s actions. I expect him to eventually give a “the way I see it…” kind of shpiel. I find this structure amusing, though, at times, I just want the narrator to get on with the story. But since there’s only one-third left, I wonder how much more unpredictability he can fit into the book…

It appears another talented songwriter has offed himself.

Users of peer2peer file sharing networks like Kazaa, Morpheus, WinMX, take note: the RIAA released a statement informing the internet community that they plan on turning up the heat in their search-and-destroy binge.

There is software out there that will hide your IP address. I've heard good things about Earthstation 5.

addendum: joy alerted me to the crappiness of Earthstation. (thanks joy)

Unbeknownst to me, Swingline produces a red stapler a la Milton's famous prized possession in Office Space. Sweet.

Today I am 24 years old. I went to Austin last night to celebrate with a bunch of friends. We went to Hula Hut and ate and drank, though I was feeling a little under the weather and only had one drink. Dan, Orly, Rick, Alli, Ashley, and Josh showed up as well as Heather (from California- in Austin on business) and her friends Abby and Brenda (who used to work at Hula Hut and got us a table scary fast). Thanks to all and I'm glad you could make it. Next time I'll bring a change of clothes for Miguel's...

from self.com:

Just wanted to remind all that SELF is playing at the Troubadour tomorrow, October 29th with The Nervous Return and Quazar and the Bamboozled. It is one of the L.A. Weekly's picks to see, and will be a first night for many new songs from self. The first band starts at 9:00 pm doors are at 8:00PM the show is 8 bucks... self