STORY HIGHLIGHTS
- Fire crews respond to 911 call Wednesday evening
- They find Texas homes on fire
- Blaze apparently results from snake set afire
Category Archives: seriously?
Downton Abbey + new ways to terrorize Guam
The drafts keep piling up, as every post I’ve written lately has tried to turn itself into a manifesto and I keep running out of time, patience, and/or energy.
To tide you over, I’ll actually finish the post about Downton Abbey.
I don’t get it. I absolutely do not get the appeal of this show. I’ve tried to get it. I’ve tried so hard I’ve seen the 1st season twice and I’m almost done with the 2nd season. I don’t fucking get it…BUT I CAN’T STOP WATCHING IT.
Perhaps the Dowager Countess really is a witch.
That would explain a lot of things.
I wasn’t sure where to take that joke, but then this Diagon Abbey twitter account came along and gave me the perfect thing to insert into this section. I guess that’s something watching Downton has going for it – if you haven’t watched it, the jokes won’t land and you’ll just be wasting your time reading those tweets.
Because if you get the jokes you aren’t wasting your time reading those tweets? Sure. That’s it.
Not to spoil it for you, but here’s the plot of pretty much every episode:
Someone: “The times are changing.”
Someone else: “Indeed they are, indeed they are.”
Someone: “Winter is coming.”
No, wait, that’s the plot of almost every episode of Game of Thrones.
Let’s try again.
Someone: “There was the incident with the gentleman from Turkey….”
Someone else: “Did he take my dragons? Do you know where my dragons are?”
That may not be right, either.
To be honest, I haven’t started watching season 3 yet, but my Tivo, Overlord II has been sucking them up for me. I already know what happens, because of course the show airs in the UK before it airs here and so there aren’t many surprises left by the time I get around to seeing it.
Why is a show about nobility and their servants so wildly popular in the United States? And why can’t I stop watching? Why? Why? Why?
As soon as we catch up on Homeland, Husband can start watching Downton. Yes. Yes he can. Maybe he can explain why I can’t stop watching while we wait for the next season of Homeland.
I guess an advantage to watching is that Sesame Street’s Upside Downton Abbey is much funnier if you know what they’re spoofing:
Why is a show that only began in 2010 a “Masterpiece Classic” on PBS?
Futilely pondering Downton‘s popularity is still less disturbing to think about than the fact that the U.S. Government is going to try to solve the Guam snake problem by airdropping dead poison-laced mice.
I can’t even begin to think about the intended consequences of dropping poisoned food into a rainforest.
The Unicorn Lair
It’s not often you run across a blog post that includes references to Archaeologist Randall Mcguire AND unicorns. (Bonus: it’s well worth the read).
If you’ve got that nasty cold that’s going around, you’re excused if you saw the news stories from North Korea trumpeting the discovery of a unicorn lair and vowed to lay off the Nyquil. It wasn’t the drugs talking, the North Korean government really put out a news release trumpeting their discovery of a unicorn lair. Since this is the kind of internet treasure that’s prone to vanishing without a trace, I’m going to post the entire press release:
Lair of King Tongmyong’s Unicorn Reconfirmed in DPRK
Pyongyang, November 29 (KCNA) — Archaeologists of the History Institute of the DPRK Academy of Social Sciences have recently reconfirmed a lair of the unicorn rode by King Tongmyong, founder of the Koguryo Kingdom (B.C. 277-A.D. 668).
The lair is located 200 meters from the Yongmyong Temple in Moran Hill in Pyongyang City. A rectangular rock carved with words “Unicorn Lair” stands in front of the lair. The carved words are believed to date back to the period of Koryo Kingdom (918-1392).
Jo Hui Sung, director of the Institute, told KCNA:
“Korea’s history books deal with the unicorn, considered to be ridden by King Tongmyong, and its lair.The Sogyong (Pyongyang) chapter of the old book ‘Koryo History’ (geographical book), said: Ulmil Pavilion is on the top of Mt. Kumsu, with Yongmyong Temple, one of Pyongyang’s eight scenic spots, beneath it. The temple served as a relief palace for King Tongmyong, in which there is the lair of his unicorn.
The old book ‘Sinjungdonggukyojisungnam’ (Revised Handbook of Korean Geography) complied in the 16th century wrote that there is a lair west of Pubyok Pavilion in Mt. Kumsu.The discovery of the unicorn lair, associated with legend about King Tongmyong, proves that Pyongyang was a capital city of Ancient Korea as well as Koguryo Kingdom.”
Maclean’s had some fun with announcement:
To give North Korea a little credit, the news agency just says that they have reconfirmed the lair of the unicorn, and not the unicorn itself. Finding a unicorn would just be crazy, but finding its living quarters helps prove that North Korea’s version of history is factual.
Or maybe something got lost in translation.
But back to the (more) serious piece I mentioned at the start of this post…on his blog, Digs and Docs, Archaeologist John Roby posted this piece on the subject: “The North Korean ‘unicorn lair discovery’ actually says a lot about real-life, non-unicorn archaeology.”
One thing I stress to my students is to evaluate the analogies we use to classify different kinds of objects and sites. In other words, what leads us to refer to something as a ritual object vs. an ordinary tool, why do we say a particular building is a temple rather than a house, and so on. Or in this case, what makes a unicorn lair a unicorn lair? Fortunately for the North Korean archaeologists, they also found a stone with the inscription “Unicorn Lair” right outside. If only everything in this field were that simple.
But all snark aside, this story illustrates a very important point about archaeology, one that I think is crucial for anyone who wants to understand how this field works and why we study the times and sites we do.
Briefly: Archaeology is a social practice, not a quest for The Objective Truth.
Roby then expands on this point for a few more paragraphs and supplies links to more reading, if you’re so inclined.
Cows Eating Candy Corn + The Corn Palace
Maximizing the number of commercials you have to slog through, these related pieces are broken up into two parts on the Colbert Report instead of one segueing into the other. You’ll live.
The Colbert Report | Mon – Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c | |||
Junk Food Feed | ||||
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[embedded video: Junk Food Feed]
The Colbert Report | Mon – Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c | |||
Special Report – A Shucking Disaster – Nightmare at the Mitchell Corn Palace | ||||
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Like a Lovecraftian heroine, I find myself coated in slime
[embedded video: coughs & sneezes]
I can’t recall ever being sneezed on. Not by another human being, anyway. Horses, dogs and cats? Yes. Another person? No.
Not until Friday night. I was minding my own business, sitting in the front row of a packed concert hall, listening to Neil Gaiman speak at George Mason University’s Fall for the Book Festival, when the gentleman seated behind me suddenly blasted the back of my head with a great honking snootful of mucous.
These things happen. Sure. Yes. Absolutely. No malicious intent. Just a sneeze.
His wife made a half-hearted attempt to discretely wipe some of the snot from my hair. Or maybe she was just trying to rub it in, thinking I wouldn’t notice. I’m not entirely certain, as I was trying to ignore them and pay attention to the person speaking at the podium a few feet in front of me.
Here is a dramatic re-enactment of the aftermath of this event, as I now remember it.
[embedded video: ghostbusters]
Then it happened again on Sunday night while Michael Chabon was talking.
Then it happened again while I was listening to David Byrne and Dave Lowery speak at a Smithsonian event Monday night.
Oddly, this doesn’t outrages because of the yuck factor or the amount of time I’ve spent washing my hair this weekend. Accidents happen. This annoys me because I’m once again on a very high dose of a very unpleasant drug designed to cut my immune system off at the knees and at each of the 3 public events I chose as calculated risks there was a single solitary sneezing guy – and each time, that guy was seated right behind me? How is that possible? What are the odds?
I guess it would be weirder if it had been the same guy each time.
I’ve upended my life to minimize the amount of interaction I have with germyness for the next few weeks. I’ve stocked up on hand sanitizer. I’ve rearranged my life to avoid Metro and small children and teeming crowds as much as humanly possible. And yet? Old dudes with weaponized nasal passages seem to be homing in on me like Jack Ryan after the Red October.
To be fair, avoiding Metro and small children and teeming crowds is pretty much my avocation, but I’m too tired to work up a funny line of persecution and inconvenience and indignation, so let’s just pretend that in the day-to-day, my favorite activity is taking small children to big events via Metro, where we lick the handrails and seatbacks to pass the time along the way.
I’m lacking a punchline today. Here, have a sneezy baby panda, instead:
[embedded video: sneezing panda]
update: comments are being harshly moderated to eliminate any links to sneeze fetish sites because, although my moderation criteria is pretty liberal, some of the stuff that’s been left in the comments crosses some serious lines. Also: yuck.