Mostly Muppet

NOT a regular thing, just struggling for a metaphor to take my mind off of lazy blogging post-Hawaii.

Here’s what I’m digging today:

Lego is full of Win [Via Wonderland]:

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The Diablo III Cinematic and Gameplay videos.

They only make we want to play more video games, especially Diablo II, World of Warcraft and, strangely enough, Spore.

Muppet 4th of July [Via Muppet News Flash]:

Dr. Horrible’s Sing-A-Long Blog Teaser:

Teaser from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog on Vimeo.

I’m apologizing after the fact for clogging up my own post with embed videos, but this little blog experiment got me to thinking: what causes someone to embed video?

Are certain kinds of people apt to embed?
Are certain categories of video more embed-friendly?

It also begs the question: why aren’t you embedding video about your favorite TV show or the TV shows of your employer?

Good questions, all.

I seem to favor geeky, game-y and internet comedy videos but maybe those are just my personal preferences. I certainly watched a TON of So You Think You Can Dance & Design Star videos (don’t judge me) in the past week, but did I embed/link/blog them? No.

So anyhow, this is a somewhat lazy post with a message: tell me why you embed and/or deride me for my lack of taste in what I’ve embedded and/or copped to consuming.

G’night!

Kottke linked to a fascinating article, a taste-testing of Root Beers by the NY Times Wine guy, that made me absolutely salivate yesterday afternoon. If the on-campus commissary had any Root Beer on hand I would have drunk a gallon, I was that thirsty.

Read the whole thing, it’s a trip.

I didn’t start out as a Root Beer fan. As a child I would have rather downed a bottle of cough syrup which, in hindsight, might have been a pleasant experience.

My brother Thad loved the stuff though. He was addicted to Root Beer floats and would forgo a hot fudge sundae or ice cream cone in favor of the float.

I remember one Summer particularly well because I played a young Patrick Dennis in a community theater production of Mame. Each night after the performance we’d stop at a vinyl-siding “restaurant” to get barbecue sandwiches and dessert.

I always had a HUGE sundae, Thad got Root Beer floats. Same thing at the local sunken dining room A&W. The Lionel train that served a border/coping/crown molding for the place would chug along and we’d eat onion rings, Thad with his Root Beer float.

I came of Root Beer age drinking IBC in a friend’s basement playing AD&D. Something about the bottles, the adjacent pool table and all the dudes: it was like an adolescent version of Cheers, only geekier and less Gin-soaked.

I still hold a special place in my heart for Root Beer, but I’m still not a float aficionado.

My other brother, Graham, prefers Sprecher’s, having spent some of his formative years in Wisconsin. Sprecher makes beer AND root beer, which is pretty cool. Me, I’ve only brewed about a half-dozen of my own beers, all fine results if not examples of their respective styles. Root Beer brewing, though, sounds quite fun.

Some folks do it, though, both Root Beer and actual Beer, quite well. I’ve never tasted their beer, but I’m led to believe that the Monday Night Brewery is great. Their post on moonshine got me thinking about a moonshine that Graham brought back from Tennessee last Summer.

The stuff had a definite aniseed taste, reminiscent of some Root Beers. It went really well with Lemonade, by the way. Could this be a new form of Arnold Palmer?

Which begs the additional questions:
Have you mixed liquor into an Arnold Palmer (not the man himself, but the drink)?
Are there cocktails that incorporate Root Beer?
Have you made your own Root Beer?
Have you made your own moonshine?

Me? I’m sticking to my current favorite beverage, the Vodka Gimlet. It’s neither moonshine, Root Beer (or float) nor an Arnold Palmer, but it will leave your cares floating away.

I’m going to take this advice for the batch I brew up on our Hilton Head Island vacation next month:

“Pour six ounces of vodka from a 750 ml bottle; replace with six ounces Rose’s Sweetened Lime Juice (available from nearly any grocery), add a small amount of water for ice crystals, shake twice and store in the freezer overnight. Pour into a martini glass and serve straight up. The glass will immediately frost over. With this recipe, no cocktail shaker is required and the cocktail is not watered down by melting ice. You may use even the cheapest vodka, and no one will ever know.”

I may go the route of filtering some rot-gut vodka via Brita or coffee filters (semi-debunked by the MythBusters crew but attempted in innumerable places).

I’ll post results here, but they’ll be skewed by the Rose’s lime in my Gimlet-in-a-bottle (Sting approves) experiment.

So, readers, I conclude thusly: Stay Thirsty!

… Mighty Georgia has struck out.

Sure, Fresno State was the Bulldog team that everyone pegged as Cinderella, but they started the season in the Top 25. UGA had an abysmal 2007 and pre-season opinions/prospects were mixed.

Still, props to those other red-wearing Dogs for hammering home the victory tonight. You earned it.

Here’s Ernest Thayer’s poem, which really said it best back in 1888:

The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day,
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair.
The rest clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast.
They thought, “if only Casey could but get a whack at that.
We’d put up even money now, with Casey at the bat.”

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake;
and the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake.
So upon that stricken multitude, grim melancholy sat;
for there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all.
And Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball.
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
there was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
it rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
it pounded through on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat;
for Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey’s manner as he stepped into his place,
there was pride in Casey’s bearing and a smile lit Casey’s face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
no stranger in the crowd could doubt t’was Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt.
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then, while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
defiance flashed in Casey’s eye, a sneer curled Casey’s lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
and Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped –
“That ain’t my style,” said Casey. “Strike one!” the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
like the beating of the storm waves on a stern and distant shore.
“Kill him! Kill the umpire!” shouted someone on the stand,
and it’s likely they’d have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity, great Casey’s visage shone,
he stilled the rising tumult, he bade the game go on.
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew,
but Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, “Strike two!”

“Fraud!” cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered “Fraud!”
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
and they knew that Casey wouldn’t let that ball go by again.

The sneer has fled from Casey’s lip, the teeth are clenched in hate.
He pounds, with cruel violence, his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
and now the air is shattered by the force of Casey’s blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright.
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light.
And, somewhere men are laughing, and little children shout,
but there is no joy in Mudville -
mighty Casey has struck out.

UGA had a great run following a wonderful regular season and a frightening SEC tournament. Congratulations to the players and coaches for turning things around and coming so close.

I haven’t felt this passionate about a baseball team since the 1992 Braves. The night Sid slid, one week after my Grandfather passed away, the night of my 16th birthday.

Thanks, fellas.

Go Dawgs!

Jenn and I are on a steady diet of Summer reality television, having been on vacation for nearly two weeks in Hawaii. I know. Pity me.

Killing your brain with snack food entertainment isn’t advisable but it is nearly inescapable. Plus, you never know when you’ll get a nugget of idiot-savant-style linguistic genius just for watching.

The most recent example came during a taped episode of Fox’s “So You Think You Can Dance” which is normally quite good. It doesn’t suffer from the type of fawning and hyperbole as American Idol, plus watching lithe young dancers beats out warbling any day. Also, less celebrity preening than “Dancing With The Stars” but I digress.

During the broadcast, that week’s guest judge, choreographer Mia Michaels, used the phrase “Banoodles” much to the bemusement of host Cat Deely. Jenn & I had to rewind several times to catch Michaels’ use of the word and Cat’s reaction just to make sure we fully understood the meaning. Was this a compliment, an insult or something ironic? Turns out, all three.

For the clueless like us - and count yourself lucky here, you can’t unlearn “knowledge” of this sort - “Banoodles” is the bastard child of “bonkers” and too much Kraft Mac N Cheese. It’s what Gwen Stefani was talking about in her song Holla Back Girl where she substituted “Bananas”. Still wrong - both Stefani’s solo career AND “Banoodles”.

I bring all of this up not to highlight my own questionable viewing habits, dredge up “old” internet/pop culture (the term has been around since at least 2003) or otherwise sully the blogosphere by repeating crap, but thinking about the word today I had one thought: George Carlin is rolling over in his grave right about now.

I say this for two reasons:

1. *That* joke is going to get a lot of use soon (too soon?) because, well, the man’s career was all about railing against the stupid and with Idiocracy fast becoming reality, that joke will kill. Sorry for the multiple puns.
2. In all seriousness, the man would have literally *hated* this kind of juvenilization (Ha!) of the English language. Come to think of it, he probably didn’t like the term “blog” either, but Googling (another one) for “george carlin blog” just returns remembrance posts.

For my part I have no biting social commentary other than the fact that hearing “Banoodles” conjures up other “B” words that seem funny to me. For instance, bonobos, bonnaroo and borscht immediately spring to mind.

I guess the most fitting tribute would be to foist the word on Carlin/hoist myself with my own petard:

Petard above should not be confused with the Family Guy episode “Petarded” but that’s another blog post entirely.

I miss George Carlin already. The world still needs him. Desperately.

Back from Maui and never happier to be home.

Restful, relaxing vacation that, unfortunately, featured: sickness from the entire family, an injury to my father-in-law and little to no “Wowie” in any of it’s forms.

Still, a bad day in paradise is better than the best day at work.

But, after 10 days abroad, everyone wants their own bed and their comfortable, regular routines.

So, here’s my house, via Google Maps Streetview, albeit from several months back but still with the requisite car in the driveway.

View Larger Map

I should note that we’ve had some landscaping done - flowers mostly - and that the crepe myrtle has been trimmed back and is flowering. The bulldog by the front door remains.

Thursday!

Oh and pictures - RAW, non-JPG pictures of Maui - will be on Flickr soon.