Mysteries and Why I Love Sherlock Holmes

If anyone is looking for a quick, worthwhile read, might I recommend "The Westing Game" by Ellen Raskin? It's considered a children's book, but it's not "written for children" at all; rather, as the introduction says, it's written for the adult in every child. It's a great mystery, not predictable, yet written so that the reader can try a little sleuthing herself, really interesting characters, quirky, witty, touching, and not depressing (yay!). And for all you chess-lovers out there, it reads like a good game of chess. Although maybe I shouldn't advertise it like that since I don't really play chess, so how would I know. Reminiscent of "Clue" or the card game Mafia.

I'm sort of on a mystery book kick, I guess, because I'm rereading the Sherlock Holmes mysteries. I've forgotten how awesome he is, and Watson too. Their mystery adventures are interesting enough, but my affinity for the stories is more due to character attachment, and I am sure that if I had been alive in the UK when Sir Arthur Conan Doyle killed off Holmes, I would've been one of the 20,000 plus Brits who appeared in the streets in black, mourning this fictional character's death. It's so crazy how we can get so attached to imaginary folk.

What is it about his character that I like so much? Someone once told me about Nietzsche and his "amor fati", or "love one's fate" attitude toward life, and I see a bit of it in Holmes. His matter-of-fact acceptance of somber aspects of life and mankind, often with humor and maybe some well-justified arrogance, which I can hardly believe I'm writing because I used to think that there was no such thing as arrogance that can be justified. Maybe it's not justified, but I can definitely sympathize with him whenever he unravels the entire mystery himself and all the credit is given to one of the bumbling idiots of Scotland Yard who look on the genius Holmes as some eccentric, too theory-oriented, promising perhaps... "Life is dreary", he'd say so baldly, but it's not a fact that he ever sludges over, wondering why why why. He'll ponder over it from afar, like a curiosity, then throw himself into another mystery with passion and energy, or if there isn't one available presently, he'll take a pinch of snuff and scrape on his violin all through the night. Not that I endorse hard drugs, but well Watson got him to quit that eventually, didn't he? One minute he's filling Watson in on the latest develops of a case, and the next, he's insisting that the most important thing at the moment is lunch and miracle plays. And vice versa, one minute he's observing Londoners under the gaslights heading home from work, and philosophizing about the immortal spark that burns within each of them, and the next, he's hunting the grounds with his magnifying glass for cigar ashes and bootprints. He's terrifically adept at shifting gears and does so without concern for transitions or proper timing or other such restraining nonsense. His attitude of acceptance of all things is no better illustrated than in the scene where he and Doc Watson are chasing Jonathan Small and Tonga, who shoots a poisonous dart tip at them just as they shoot him down with their arms. Later they discover that the fatal dart had whizzed right between them, so they had been mere inches from death. Holmes merely smiles at it and shrugs "in his easygoing fashion", while Watson feels sick thinking of how close he came to death that night.

And Watson I like just as much because, among other reasons, he mirrors my admiration for his sleuth friend. Watson is who I am, and Sherlock Holmes is who I wish I could be.

Two Windows

S: Can you check the weather report?

A: Sure gimme a sec. (Firefox window pops up). It's raining.

We stare at the sunshine streaming through the living room window.

S: Well, better take an umbrella with me.

A: Stupid dysfunctional weather report add-on.

Morning Dialogue II: Ha, Hee, and Hoo

Angie: My stomach feels funny. It's telling knock-knock jokes. (Stifled giggling proceeds)

Sarah: (No response).

Angie: Isn't that funny? (Stifled giggling crescendos)

Sarah: Hrrrrrr.

Angie: Hahahaha! That was the best fake laugh ever! You sounded like you were retarded! Heeheehee! Oh man...*gasp*...can't breathe!...hooo...

Sarah: Pause...Oh I get it. Hey that's pretty funny! Hahaha!

Angie: Oh my god, you are retarded!

I give Sarah credit; she just improved my joke like 10-fold.

Morning Dialogue

Angie: I wonder what it's like to be raised by wolves.

Sarah: Huh?

Angie: I've been reading about feral children.

Sarah: Why is it that I never know what your talking about?

Heroes

I have a new hobby of keeping track each day of the number of encounters I have with nice people. This activity serves to uphold one of my two general views of humanity: In the best of lights, I see us as well-intentioned seekers of happiness with the ability to do astonishing things for creatures of such an insignificant physical stature, and where "crazy" means "colorful"; in the worst of lights, I see us as creatures to be pitied, and "crazy" just means you belong in the loony bin. I don't like to dwell on the latter view for purely selfish reasons- because it brings me down-, hence the new hobby.

Today's tally: 3 encounters with Seriously Nice people! Among them were the Garage Sale lady and the cashier at Jay's Deli. I was still raving about them when we reached Bruce's place to watch Heroes.

Heroes, is a great show not least because its characters are so all-encompassing and complex. I absolutely love the dynamic between Invisible Man and Peter Petrelli, where the former is the epitome of the jaded old hermit, and the latter is the hopeful humanist, the Little Engine That Couldn't But Kept On Chugging out of shear faith. Now, now he's just awesome. Oh man, is he awesome.

Another great thing about Heroes is that it totally plays into our fantasies that there's something out there bigger, cooler, more majestic than the daily 9 to 5 grind at a paper factory. One of my favorite quotes I heard today was when HRG (Horn-Rimmed Guy?) was interviewing for a job at the paper company:

Interviewer: So, how do you feel about paper?

HRG: Wildly enthusiastic.

At least, that's what I heard. Apparently, though, he had said "mildly", not "wildly". Personally, I like my version better. Anyway, we watched 7 episodes in a row before calling it a night. 6 more amazing hours to go!

Also, I haven't changed the look of this blog since I started it nearly 2.5 years ago, so I thought it was time for a change- just some minor ones, inspired by a fellow blogger.

The Dangers of Analogies, Exposed

First off, apologies to the Analogy Queen for the title of this post, but it was too good to pass up!

Next of all, I confess, I adore Karaoke Night at McGillan's. Nothing is more fun than bearing witness to a night of alcohol-fueled singing powered by a combination of 10% skill, 80% passion (and of course, the requisite 10% alcohol).

And without further ado, on to the crux of this post:

While at McGillan's tonight, I was talking to someone about "Tiny Dancer", about its part in the Almost Famous bus scene, and we realized after a while that we were talking about two different songs. I wasn't sure which one he had in mind. Neither was he for that matter. So I said I'd have to go look it up on the web when I got home. He replied with something about "innertubes".

Why was he suddenly talking about innertubing? I thought. Aloud of course. That's when I learned about Alaskan Senator Stevens' infamous intertubes speech (which was made last summer). The Jon Stewart references to it are particularly hilarious, so I'll quote them here, but read about the speech before you read the jokes!

Citations on The Daily Show

Stevens's speech was also ridiculed on seven episodes of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart which featured clips of Stevens's speech, illustrated first by Stevens's photo and later by photos of Gabby Hayes and of Grampa Simpson. In the first instance, on July 12, 2006, Stewart compared him to "a crazy old man in an airport bar at 3:00 am", then going on to answer his question, "Why?" with, "Maybe it's because you don't seem to know jack shit about computers or the Internet — but that's okay — you're just the guy in charge of regulating it."

Stevens's "series of tubes" were again referenced in a July 24, 2006 interview with John McCain, where Stewart asked, "You know, privately, can you pull Senator Stevens aside and go, 'It's not really literally tubes'?", to which McCain replied, "I wouldn't want to disillusion him."^[14]

On August 8, 2006, The Daily Show again referenced Stevens's quote in regard to BP's troubles with the Trans-Alaska Pipeline. Correspondent Rob Corddry started to explain the trouble with the pipeline, then turned it over to a recording of Ted Stevens saying, "It's not a big truck. It's, it's a series of tubes!"

On October 2, 2006, correspondent John Oliver remarked, "Everyone knows that Congresspeople are assigned to committees based on their greatest weakness! Why else would Senator Ted Stevens, a man more comfortable in the horse and buggy era, wind up in charge of regulating the Internet... which, he believes, is a series of tubes... a series of tubes through which other Congressmen can reach in and fondle sixteen-year-old boys?" (referring to the Mark Foley scandal.)

On December 18, 2006, host Jon Stewart, in an interview with then Presidential candidate Tom Vilsack, referenced the quote while plugging Vilsack's website, stating "Is that one of them Internets? ... Go visit him on the series of tubes."

On January 23, 2007 when talking about presidential candidates using the Internet as a campaign tool in the 2008 election, Stewart said "The candidates are now turning to the interwebs, a series of tubes..."

By March 2007, Stewart's tube references had become shorter, but possibly more frequent, e.g., "intertubes," or "tubular interwebs."

I am le tired!

Here's why: I woke up in the morning today.

The past couple weeks, my schedule has consisted of: Wake up at noon. Translate. Shower. Eat. Translate. Develop Chronic Ass Pain (CAP) from sitting all day translating. Eat. Translate. See the sun rise. Sleep. And repeat.

I nearly forgot what morning looked like. Turns out, it's pretty much like the rest of the day, except slightly cooler and the sun's in a different position. No birds chirping or delicious aroma of bacon and eggs and johnnycakes wafting in from the kitchen (which happens to be in the living room in our case, which in turn happens to be where we've been sleeping since the bedroom has no air conditioning).

Anyway, so no birds, but I woke up at 9 AM and ran to the Irish memorial to say hi to my Irish friends, the McGillans and the O'Briens and the rest. I always rest in the shade created by the giant sculpture of the boat docking with all the emaciated Irish immigrants gazing at the land ahead in awe, speechless, as if they can't believe what they're seeing.

Of course, what they are really seeing is a small patch of grass, a couple of trees, and a bench with a homeless man snoozing on it. But they don't need to know that. Well, would it really crush them to know that? They've been on a diseased boat for months, tossing and swaying with the waves. I'm sure they'll get a kick out of anything that's solid and not blue. Anyway...they're not real. Sometimes I forget that.

Weather, Spelling, and Great Stories...A Threadless Post

Tomorrow is supposed to be BLAZING hot, near 100 degrees (Fahrenheit)!

By the way, it was the height of my spelling career when I got the spelling of "Fahrenheit" down pat. So I guess the height of my spelling career is placed somewhere between my junior and senior year in college. The world of spelling is an exciting one indeed.

Anyway, so I just got this idea while chatting with a friend, but I think it would be quite interesting and appropriate if we all went around tomorrow telling people, "You're on fire!" With feeling!

Speaking of fire, there are some really great stories in the Bible. The one about King David and his usurping son Adonius reads rather like an Arthurian legend, doesn't it?

Incident at the Park

A friend of mine (not of yours, mind you!) has this posted under his "About me" section in facebook:

I am from Kenya and UK. My left eye is shaped slightly differently to my right eye. My resting pulse is 58. Oh, I like brewed ice tea. yeaah.

I spend around 5 minutes each morning gazing at myself in the mirror.

I was one of 3 people on my team who could hit the ball.

It makes me laugh every time I read it (that's twice so far- maybe not a great sample size). I told him I might print it out and tape it to my mirror so that I could gaze at THAT every morning for 5 minutes. I think I actually might do it.

I had a convo with a BAC (Born-Again Christian) at the park today. BAC mentioned that the Holy Spirit had spoken to him while he was serving his 17 years in prison. I was in two minds about this: On the one hand, if this God/religion thing is what it takes to keep you from crime, than geez, by all means, believe it! On the other hand, now you've got it in your head that other people need saving too. Is it OK to perpetuate ignorance and talltales as a method of eradicating crime? As we were sitting there talking about religion and God (separate things?) I was reminded of the beginning scene of "Master and Margarita", where these two guys were arguing about whether God and Satan existed, and Satan was standing there going, "This is most interesting: they are arguing about whether or not I exist." Hehe.