let’s be rational


Paperclips are sexy

I honestly think there’s something sexy about paperclips. They hint at additional thoughts, something extra, a bonus moment or an unexpected twist.

A paperclip says, “You thought we were finished?” or, “But wait, there’s more!”

A paperclip’s efficient curves promise addendums and mysteries and explanations.

Oh, and don’t even get me started on coffee, pens, and notebooks! 🙂


Making a list. Checking it twice.

You can see the look in his eyes that says, “For the love of all that’s holy, save me!” …The kid looks pretty upset as well.

Nothing quite says ‘Yay, it’s Christmas!’ like a traumatized child who is having a cerebral meltdown after being abandoned with a jolly bearded maniac while his or her parent waves from a distance and yells, “Smile for Santa, Timmy, or I’ll give you something to really cry about, you snot-nosed little hooligan!”

Or, I don’t know, maybe that was just how Christmases went for me during my childhood? I still wonder why my Dad called me Timmy.

As it happens, I have many fond memories of soiling myself in festive terror during various seasonal outings, to the sound of people singing about White Christmases, and Dashing Through The Snow, and Frosty The Snowman. All of which simply added to the surreal experience, as I was born near the equator and grew up in Australia, the land in which Christmas Day is celebrated by moving as little as possible and bitching incessantly about the heat.

Over the years, I have come to suspect that the true joy of Christmas lies in reaching adulthood, so you can have children of your own on which to perpetuate the revenge of the Christmas Santa freakout.

I think these kids will agree: Scared of Santa: Scenes of Terror in Toyland – Telegraph.

Earth’s mightiest titan battles Moon Monsters!

Not only was Hercules Against The Moon Men filmed in COSMICOLOR and LUNARSCOPE (I wish I’d been in the meeting where they decided to go with that), but it seems the Italian film industry of the 1960s was waaaay ahead of the Mayans in predicting the end of the world due to a planetary collision.

As luck would have it, I’m surrounded by the notion of catastrophic collisions – I’m currently reading The Last Policeman: A Novel, a book which asks the question of what would it be like to investigate a suspected homicide in a world that is reeling from the knowledge that it is now only months away from an extinction event due to an impending collision with an asteroid.

And then, of course, we have NASA outright denying that the Mayans were onto something when they decided to end their calendar at Dec 21 2012, because what’s the point of knowing the date when the world has been blown to bits?

Despite the fact that I am a bajillion percent certain that the Mayans and their calendar are wildly uninvolved with the end of the world, I am still going to spend the rest of the evening in my backyard in case the Moon Men land.