Random Stuff IV
Hot damn, I finally, finally got my DSL running. We'd arranged for it to start as soon as we moved here, but whoever signed up somehow forgot to send us the software and DSL modem. We started to get all these letters welcoming us to the service, but nothing that actually allowed us to use the service we were paying for. Kathy strongarmed someone over the phone to actually send us the goods, and we received a month's free access for our pain and suffering, but when I attempted to install the software and activate the modem, I discovered that by yet another one of those strange quirks of fate, our starting date got moved back to today, exactly three weeks after our arrival in Cleveland. As soon as I successfully completed the installation this evening, and discovered that yes, the server would accept my user ID this time, I celebrated in a way that should be obvious to anyone reading this.
Let me take you back to the bad old days of the puritanical 19th century with a site whose unintelligible, conglomerated name puts "antidisestablismentarianism" to shame. Yep, it's another one of those ultra-modest Christian women's clothing stores, just in case you might be trekking across the Sahara yet can't bear the idea of anyone being able to see your wrists and ankles. Our hostess is a "Truly Custom Clothing Sewing Seamstress" [sic] who wins the International Brainwashed Zombie Prize of the 21st Century for writing the following gag-me-with-a-pitchfork statement, found on her About Me page:
We call these "Blessing" dresses because children are truly a blessing from God. Out of ignorance to God's word we used "the pill" closing the womb for eight years after our first child. Then by Bible reading Christ came into our lives and we submitted to God's will; allowing HIM total control of family planning thereafter. God graciously gave us eight more children.
Never will you find a more convincing testament to the effectiveness of-and obvious need for-birth control. No, I take that back. The passage above is only the second most convincing such testament. The most convincing testament is the family portrait at the bottom of the page. Looks like Maw and Paw tried to spread eight people's worth of chromosomes across nine children, and nobody got the good end of that deal. Just goes to show that you really shouldn't skimp on the ol' chromosomes: genetics isn't something you want to be half-assed about. (Though the youngest one looks like she has one chromosome too many.) It's a good thing these clothes are so modest and all-concealing, for the God-fearing seamstress whose alarming Web site this is uses her family as models.
This bit is for jillbertini. In fact, I'm writing this last part expressly to find out whether she ever reads my LiveJournal.
We live in a very interesting, diverse neighborhood. It is about 50% African-American, but there is also a very large Jewish community nearby. Less than a block away from us is the Fuchs Mizrachi School, a Jewish private school with grades 1-12. I'm delighted to see a religious school that teaches evolution in biology class. But oddly enough, I get hungry whenever I pass by and see the simple block-lettered sign. I realized that I was craving my favorite dish at The Old Spaghetti Factory: Spaghetti with Browned Butter and Mizrachi Cheese.
[Editor's note: That's Mizithra, you idiot!]
[Author's note: Oh, yeah. Guess I'm baked.]
Rosh Hashana was this week, of course, and on the evening of the sliver moon the Chasidim were out in force. (Not sure I'll ever get used to the sight of someone in a suit and wide-brimmed black hat talking on a cell phone.) I began to reflect about how amazingly ignorant of science my evil ex-girlfiend was, despite her high intelligence and intimate knowledge of literature and music and other cultural stuff. Once, I was telling her about what I did at work that day in the lab, and I mentioned that I'd had a difficult time preparing a certain chemical solution such that it was acidic. She thought I'd said Chasidic, and wondered aloud why in hell I'd need a lab reagent to be Orthodox Jewish. True story.
Let me take you back to the bad old days of the puritanical 19th century with a site whose unintelligible, conglomerated name puts "antidisestablismentarianism" to shame. Yep, it's another one of those ultra-modest Christian women's clothing stores, just in case you might be trekking across the Sahara yet can't bear the idea of anyone being able to see your wrists and ankles. Our hostess is a "Truly Custom Clothing Sewing Seamstress" [sic] who wins the International Brainwashed Zombie Prize of the 21st Century for writing the following gag-me-with-a-pitchfork statement, found on her About Me page:
We call these "Blessing" dresses because children are truly a blessing from God. Out of ignorance to God's word we used "the pill" closing the womb for eight years after our first child. Then by Bible reading Christ came into our lives and we submitted to God's will; allowing HIM total control of family planning thereafter. God graciously gave us eight more children.
Never will you find a more convincing testament to the effectiveness of-and obvious need for-birth control. No, I take that back. The passage above is only the second most convincing such testament. The most convincing testament is the family portrait at the bottom of the page. Looks like Maw and Paw tried to spread eight people's worth of chromosomes across nine children, and nobody got the good end of that deal. Just goes to show that you really shouldn't skimp on the ol' chromosomes: genetics isn't something you want to be half-assed about. (Though the youngest one looks like she has one chromosome too many.) It's a good thing these clothes are so modest and all-concealing, for the God-fearing seamstress whose alarming Web site this is uses her family as models.
This bit is for jillbertini. In fact, I'm writing this last part expressly to find out whether she ever reads my LiveJournal.
We live in a very interesting, diverse neighborhood. It is about 50% African-American, but there is also a very large Jewish community nearby. Less than a block away from us is the Fuchs Mizrachi School, a Jewish private school with grades 1-12. I'm delighted to see a religious school that teaches evolution in biology class. But oddly enough, I get hungry whenever I pass by and see the simple block-lettered sign. I realized that I was craving my favorite dish at The Old Spaghetti Factory: Spaghetti with Browned Butter and Mizrachi Cheese.
[Editor's note: That's Mizithra, you idiot!]
[Author's note: Oh, yeah. Guess I'm baked.]
Rosh Hashana was this week, of course, and on the evening of the sliver moon the Chasidim were out in force. (Not sure I'll ever get used to the sight of someone in a suit and wide-brimmed black hat talking on a cell phone.) I began to reflect about how amazingly ignorant of science my evil ex-girlfiend was, despite her high intelligence and intimate knowledge of literature and music and other cultural stuff. Once, I was telling her about what I did at work that day in the lab, and I mentioned that I'd had a difficult time preparing a certain chemical solution such that it was acidic. She thought I'd said Chasidic, and wondered aloud why in hell I'd need a lab reagent to be Orthodox Jewish. True story.