the wall talker

Merry Christmas, We're Not Going To Die.

What a Christmas weekend, huh? I don't know about any of you but I usually don't spend the yuletide season wondering if twenty years hence I'll be obliterated by a giant death rock from space. And yet, this past Christmas weekend, the magical spirit of the season was sprinkled with a lovely news story of science fiction turned to science possibility as an asteroid of doom was perhaps hurtling toward our planet due to arrive in 24 years on, of all days, Friday the 13th. And that would've sucked. But what about, how perfectly cheesy it would've been from a narrative point of view. I mean, come on. Public finds out on Christmas Eve? About a disaster due on Friday the 13th? Ho ho ho. Please. I mean, seriously, who writes this stuff? I think they actually passed on this idea for the Armageddon script so as not to seem too over-the-top. And yet, every now and then I notice things like this, these naturally occurring trite and cheesy little features of reality that nobody would buy if actually written in fiction. For example. One of the most notoriously wealthy business sharks who's trademarked the phrase "You're fired!" and his name is actually a verb whose definition is "to get the better of, or outdo." And also... Well, okay I can't think of any other examples right now but... well, they 're out there so leave me alone. Or instead, if you can think of any others, post a comment, and I'll adopt it as my own the next time I talk to someone at a party about my observation. But most importantly what I'm trying to say is... um... well, Happy Holidays. Then again, with Christmas and Chanukka finished and New Year's being the only one left this season, I should really shorten it to "Happy Holiday". So... Happy Holiday, everyone.
And I just thought of another example: Red Sox cursed for 86 years by Babe Ruth, jersey number 3. In 2004, the Red Sox make a historic comeback bringing them into the World Series after being down by how many games? zero to 3. And in the final game of the series that would cap the Red Sox's winning sweep against the Yankees on their own field, with Red Sox's Curt Schilling pitching on an ankle so mangled and bloodied it gave him a "red sock", the last out would end up being pitched by Edgar Renteria. Final score: zero to 3. Red Sox. First time in 86 years. Renteria's jersey number? Need you ask? The same as Babe Ruth's: 3. It was a full lunar eclipse that night.
I mean, COME... ON!!! And it simply happened that way. No, really, who writes this stuff? Once again, Happy Holiday.

Still to come: My amazing headset!

On a serious note, for a source of more information on how to help with the recent devastating tragedy in South Asia visit this site.

posted by Solomon Wall @ 7:17 PM