|Oh, the metaphoric humanity.|
Da-da would say something original like, "Get ready to start that Halloween countdown!" if Da-da didn't already celebrate the humorous horror... the horror-humor... horrible humor, indeed... of everyday ontological vending machine reality (drop a coin, pull a knob, have some fun)... um, you know, like it's Halloween... every... day. Jeez, get thee behind me, ENGLISH LANGUAGE. English is such a vainglorious swampy mess ("That's how I roll!" -- gag), not a living language at all. More like a LIVING DEAD LANGUAGE that needs it's brains handed to it. Well done. With a side of hashed browns.
Or perhaps that's Da-da's own meager skills that require the bludgeon and torch... hm, sounds good. Until further notice, Da-da will be having a pint or three, down at The Bludgeon and Torch if anyone needs him. Don't need him. That third person he keeps dragging around is pretty winded.
|MLA editors occasionally burst into flame and say, "Get Da-da's third person! There he goes!"|
|What the hell does this have to do with anything? Just you WAIT, menehune-breath.|
At six, Da-da's oldest boy, Nagurski, has developed a fear of monsters... which is a bit later than normal, but these things happen. To combat this, Da-da did three things:
- He started numbering everything in sight
- He told his boys that the family had INTENTIONALLY moved to the town they live in because monsters HATE that town, and also because everyone seems to be CAPITALIZING EVERYTHING for emPHASIS, and...
- Da-da installed tikis.
|Da-da's is just like this, but his bikini has little Yodas all over. And yes, Da-da's unit... er, device |
cycles gin and tonic. Gotta go, Da-da's arms are getting drunk again. Shakin' the tree, boss...
|Wanna see something really scary? Close your eyes and imagine your kids, at 16 -- DRIVING.|
As October fast approaches, it's time to get you ready for Halloween with another scary, cautionary Darwinesque tale about how Da-da should never have had children, because they'll be lucky to survive. (See Da-da's Darwin Award #1.) Sure, Da-da was lucky --and LUCK is a survival tactic as much as good eyesight and a vast and uncompromised line of credit -- so all we can hope for is that luck is genetic. Of course, some might say that Da-da's luck has run out, and they'd be right, but those same people are locked in a concrete bunker beneath Da-da's house, forced to watch, "Chipmonk Christmas 4," over and over and over and over... that'll teach 'em. Yeah, yeah, Da-da knows, get on with it.
Picture Da-da at 16. Fresh-faced. Optimistic. Dumb as a box of dead crabs. Why is he so dumb? BECAUSE HE THINKS HE KNOWS EVERYTHING. He is 16, after all. Driving with him are his friends, who aren't much smarter, all of them loose in a Busytown part of the world, ha ha, driving in Busytown! Da-da is driving his smokin' '81 Honda Civic and OOOH, are chicks staring at us or what? No, they weren't, but not because Da-da wasn't HOT and driving a hot car. No, it was the clown decals. AND THE BLOOD. But that's so another post. Anyway, we were driving either to or from a jazz festival, and were feeling pretty silly. (Yeeees, Da-da was a band geek, though Da-da's HS jazz band was #1 in the nation three years running, so he was a SUPER MONDO band geek.) Anyway, after a short jaunt up a biggish hill to see a ritzy neighborhood, Da-da and his cohorts start back down toward the real world.
Ah, it's a gentle hill, a calm street -- sure, one that got busier the closer you got to the bottom, but that was a mile away. We were leisurely coasting down this hill, ha ha, so free, and since the car didn't need its engine burning gas to go downhill, Da-da jokingly turns the car off and tosses the keys to a friend in the backseat, ha ha ha! Look! Da-da's driving and the car's off! Ha ha! Hey, look, the street is starting to turn ever-so-gently to the right, hardly even a turn, the barest of curves, oh those trees are so pretty, the brick houses, the dappled sunlight, hey is that Bruce Willis? A little more turnage as the road curves more, a little steeper and... THE STEERING WHEEL LOCKED. GIMME THE KEYS! GIMME THE KEYS! The friend in the backseat drops them, rumblin' fumblin' stumblin', the car veers ever to slightly over the double yellow... an inch... two inches... into oncoming traffic... Da-da finally gets the keys and puts them in the ignition and unlocks the steering wheel and STEERS, STEERS LIKE THE WIND back into his own lane... only now the brakes don't work very well (they're power brakes, you dolt) and here comes the stoplight -- it's red, and traffic is howling through the intersection going the other way, but Da-da gets the car started and jams on the brakes at the crosswalk... and screeches to a halt right next to a cop. Da-da's life is begins and ends in the two seconds it takes the officer to look over at us. Da-da secretly lets out a WHOOP when he sees the guy eating a donut and drinking coffee. He didn't see anything. But he heard the tires squeal, which is a hefty ticket called, "Exhibition of Speed." The cop stares at us and we smile and wave, he looks away and air returns to our lungs, either oblivious to how stupid Da-da just was, or unable to overcome his donut inertia.
Da-da suddenly flashes into the future, where he sees his own teen children driving away in a car (probably the same damn car, blood washed off), and he starts to sweat, hoping that LUCK really turns out to be genetic, 'cause Da-da's lucky to have survived.
Da-da is cursed. Sure, his children are incredibly cute and darling, but they're also such a goddamn 24/7 chaotic trainwreck handful that Da-da's brain is, he fears, irreparably damaged from being too close to the tracks. Case in point, Da-da was just on the phone, talking train metaphors or somesuch with an editor, when Bronko comes running full-tilt and half-naked down the hallway, peeing his pants and screaming, "GHOST FESTIVAL! GHOST FESTIVAL!" [Ghost festival?] Then, BAM. He goes down on his face and skids into the wall.
"Um, lemme call you back." Da-da calmly deals with Bronko's Bronkoness and returns to the phone some time later. Da-da asks, "Um, what was that question, again?" The editor answers with a stony silence. [sigh] Da-da will never have an adult conversation at this rate, not with this brain -- and not with this family -- unless he changes gears and moves into the janitorial or casket-testing industries. Alas, Da-da's thought train was derailed and hopelessly sunk long ago in some fetid mommy-brain swamp of redundant mommy-brain swampiness. It struck Da-da then that he doesn't have, "The Brain That Wouldn't Die." No. Instead, he has, "The Brain That Doesn't Know It's Already Dead." Welcome to the ghost of Da-da's brain, already in progress.
|Behold, the Air Force's sandworm. It's been busy.|
Anyone who regularly reads this blog will know that Da-da doesn't shy away from unusual topics. What you may not know is that Da-da has done 20+ years of research into secret societies -- their secrets, what drives them, makes them tick, etc. -- from Isian Mystery Cults (cults of Isis) to today's present Neocon weirdies, so Da-da's trained to recognize info of value. That said, something odd surfaced recently, and if it's true, it's actually good news. And bad news. And good news again. Da-da can't vouch for its veracity, but it does jibe with what Da-da has uncovered over the years. Real or not, get ready for a bizarre thriller and buckle up, Timmy. And whatever you do, be sure to check out the two "strange sound" videos at the end of this post.
Apparently, the earthquakes that recently occurred on August 22 and 23 -- one in Colorado and one in Virginia 12 hours later, the one that rattled the Eastern Seaboard (both quakes at 37 degrees latitude, huh) may have been underground nukes (yeah, Da-da had that reaction, too), nukes used on secret underground cities. Da-da knows, use of the words, "secret underground cities" will cause at least half of you to roll your eyes, but the U.S. has tons of underground bases designed for surviving a nuclear exchange. Apparently, these potentially blowed-up ones were special. Anyway, as Da-da said, he doesn't know if this is real or not, but...
Try to read all of it, if you can. Or you can listen to it, too. Da-da's knows this is a lot to swallow, but take it slow. It's supported by the public record, from what Da-da has sleuthed out so far. The good news is that help may really be on the way, but not before things get scary. Maybe get scary. Of course, it's also possible that this is all hokum, Da-da is an expert at spotting hokum, as well as patterns, and when he sees anomalistic data suddenly jibe with the fabric of historical events, enmeshed in the same patterns created long ago by secret societies... well. It's eye opening. But Da-da's been wrong before. He had kids, didn't he?
A Little Physical Data
Ok, now here's a little physical data to sift through. Something definitely occurred at these two locations, and their signatures appear unusual. Look at the Virginia quake's chart for example:
|Virginia "quake" (in green) has an explosion signature.|
Earthquakes rumble up to a point, then trail off, as you can see (in black).
1. According to the USGS, Colorado has a 4.7 earthquake on Monday, August 22, 2011 at 05:30:20 PM at epicenter, at approx. 3 miles depth. Specific location: 37.050°N, 104.774°W.
2. According to the USGS, Colorado has a 5.3 earthquake on Monday, August 22, 2011 at 11:46:19 PM at epicenter, at approx. 3 miles depth. Specific location: 37.070°N, 104.700°W.
3. According to the USGS, Colorado has a 3.2 earthquake on Wednesday, August 24, 2011 at 09:44:38 PM local time at epicenter, at approx. 3 miles depth. Specific location: 37.12N 104.69W. This aftershock occurs roughly 48 hours after the larger 5.3 on Monday.
4. According to the USGS, Virginia had a 5.8 earthquake on Tuesday, August 23, 2011 at 01:51:04 PM at epicenter, at approx. 3 miles depth. Specific location: 37.936°N, 77.933°W. The last quake of similar magnitude occurred in 1875. Due to the relative age of the eastern seaboard rock, and the shallow depth of the temblor, the quake was felt far and wide.
5. According to the USGS, Virginia had a 2.5 earthquake on Thursday, August 25, 2011 at 12:06:47 AM local time at epicenter, at approx. 14 miles depth. Specific location: 37.89N 77.96W. This aftershock occurs roughly 36 hours after the larger 5.8 on Tuesday.
|Telltale sinkhole in Virginia, near epicenter. Blamed on a water main.|
6. All quakes occurred on the same latitude of 37 degrees, with the two major western and eastern quakes occuring 12 hours apart. There is no known fault that traverses the U.S. at 37 degrees latitude.
7. "A rule of thumb equivalence from seismology used in the study of nuclear proliferation asserts that a one kiloton nuclear explosion creates a seismic signal with a magnitude of approximately 4.0." (wikipedia) Settling from the blasts typically occurs from a few hours to a few days after the blast, and can create seismic aftershocks for months afterward.
8. Finally, check out these videos of recorded weird sounds at the times of both Colorado and Virginia quakes. Smoking gun? In the Colorado video, the sounds of explosions can be heard. And are those the echoes of the initial blast traveling up the ventilation shafts? Or were there multiple explosions?
The Virginia video seems to record the sound of emergency venting of the underground complex. Check it out.
9. There was also a weird "trumpeting sound" in Florida (and Moscow, and Odessa, and Kiev and...) at the time of the second quake on August 23rd. It's been postulated that an underground tunnel complex terminates in FL. As for all the noises across the rest of the world... Da-da dunno.
UPDATE: As of 10/3/11, reports of loud BOOMS and explosions (via Phantoms and Monsters) have been reported in Louisville, TN, which is a scant 80 miles off the posited "tunnel system" created by... someone... along the 37th parallel, from Colorado to Virginia. It might behoove someone to correlate all strange underground noises/activity along this line.
|Blob blob blob.|
This week, in honor of Da-da's getting closer and closer to the ground, the Fearless Monster Hunters (FMHs) have leveled their unrestrained puerile laser-sagacity onto... "THE BLOB," the original Eisenhowerian fear-fest from 1958... Eisenhowerian? Eisenhowerish? Eisenhoweryoudoin? And why do all the movies the FMH's review originate in 1958, anyway? No idea. Ok, here we go. As always, Da-da's comments are [bracketed].
|Don't ever do this.|
Fearless Monster Hunters Review... THE BLOB
Da-da: Ok, boys. Did this movie scare you at all?
Nagurski (6YO): No.
Da-da: What was the movie about?
Bronko: A blob that ate everyone.
Nagurski: At the end it was frozen and dropped in Alaska, where it's gonna stay [until it enters politics].
D-d: Do you think blobs are real?
N: No. Yes! On another planet.
B: Maybe in Cincinnati. [??]
D-d: If a blob appeared outside your house, what would you do?
N: I would say hi and be its friend.
B: I would ask it if they wanted to be friends and if not, turn it into a breakfast food.
D-d: What was your favorite part of the movie?
N: I dunno. When it parachuted down into Alaska?
B: When that blob ate that man with the stick. And the song! ["Beware of the Blob," one of Burt Bacharach's early hits.]
D-d: How did the movie make you feel?
N: Like staring at you.
B: Dizzy. Blobby.
D-d: Anything else?
N: There was too much stuff between the monster parts.
D-d: You mean plot.
B: Right. Too much plotting, not enough blobbing. There should also be more blob noises.
N: Blob blob blob. Count Blobula!
|Count Blobula in action.|
|SNAP CRACKLE POP... ow.|
Yup, Da-da's compass needle pointed directly east into the rising sun this equinoctial juncture, confirming this, our 5+ billionth equinox for planet earth. And of course after staring into the rising sun for too long in the interests of science, Da-da's eyes burned to a crisp, were powdered and are now being marketed in Japan as a combo soporific/prophyllactic. But don't worry, Da-da can still see, after a fashion, and you'll be happy to know he's also decided to go into politics...
|Hey, you kids...|
|Looks level, right? Did one of you bump it?|
Da-da's boys adore compasses, especially those heavy brass ones they like to throw at each others' heads. So, speaking of barely tenable segues, some folks think that the earth may have shifted somehow, and that the sun is rising and setting in new, different places (like in Da-da's pants; maybe that's why he was so hot). There's an easy way to find out what's happening. On the Autumnal Equinox -- Friday, September 23, 2011 -- just get up early (yeah, right), set a compass (a real one) on the window sill and look toward the point where the sun rises. It should be exactly due east. If it's not, then we have a problem, Houston. (We kinda already had a problem, but Da-da doubts Houston can do anything about it.)
Question: if the earth's crust slipped a little and the magnetic poles shifted a little, would the compass and earth points still return the same values? But they'd be skewed values, right? Is this thing on? Anyway, because Da-da is all about skewed perspective, below please find a graphic showcasing the largest star yet found (at bottom) with our little big star (at top).
|Hey, man. Are you small? No, man, I'm tall, I'm tall.|
Please also note that NASA said that that small bus... er, satellite Da-da talked about earlier will probably come down on the Equinox. Jeez, talk about Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, the odds are approaching that of that improbability drive Da-da installed in his refrigerator.
|Coming soon: The Ultimate Do-or-Die Equinox.|
|Despite this attractive graphic, gravity is NOT pretty.|
Check out this pretty image, built from data collected by the GRACE satellite mapping the earth's magnetic fields in painfully low resolution... hey, don't go to sleep, now! This has direct bearing on you. Wait for it...
Scientists are still trying to figure out what this chart really means, as well as what gravity really is (hint: look up, "universons"). You may have noticed instances of higher and lower gravity graphed above, which could be indicative of magma convection beneath the mantle, or perhaps mantle depth, or number of toys per square inch in your family room. And speaking of magma, it will NOT make you taller, but it can induce some pretty fast lap times. The pretty colors above could also be mapping geomagnetic flux density, or perhaps how many high-energy donut shops there are in any given area, which is kinda the same thing in a not-kinda-the-same-thing kinda way. You getting all this?
Note that the Earth’s gravity changes day-to-day, microsecond-to-microsecond -- and some donut shops more than others -- but the above image shows how average variability in Earth’s gravity field in 2002 compared to the yearly average of 2001. Whoa. What this REALLY means is that your kid will perhaps grow taller and get a better basketball scholarship if he or she lives in Hudson Bay. Or the ocean floor. AND keeps away from donut shops, especially those in the Marianas Trench. Mmmm, Marianas Trench donut... a specialty of The Donut Den. (Ok, it is now.)
|(high energy donut image courtesy brent in nashville. awesome.)|
Ok, the REAL run-on truth is, when you're talkin' earthy locale microgravities, you're looking at an increase in somatic growth of probably just a few microns, unless it's a whole bag of donuts, and then you might reap a whole freakin' millimeter if you stand right in the vortex, but then you might get sucked in and whacked in the face with flying clocks, hourglasses, the odd barn from 1938... so, you might wanna stay in the Oldsmo-buick, like that's gonna help, but how does this gravity thing affect you as a parent? That's right. These are the forces that contribute to those kid forces that are grinding your bones to dust. Feels better now that you know, right? Is there a remedy? Yes, there is. JUMP INTO THE VORTEX. It's really just a big donut if you only consider the first two dimensions. Whatever. Da-da needs a donut.
|Seems like Da-da's seen this image before...|
Both of Da-da's charges are verbal fish-dance adepts, a la Monty Python. Indeed, they're becoming quite Pythonian in their expressions (and occasionally Goreyesque). Case in point: Bronko just entered his older brother's room, where Da-da was sitting and reading Nagurski a book. Bronko looked at Da-da closely and announced, "You have a little bit of hair and a lot of face. Or a live chicken up there." Da-da would think this a remarkable 4YO utterance if he didn't have a little bit of hair and a lot of face, or a live chicken up there.
Not to be outdone, his older brother, Nagurski, yesterday intoned with subdued, minus-plus jocularity: "My butt is full of shock absorbers, let's have a polka!" Da-da has no idea where Nagurski heard about polkas, let alone southend shock absorption, but he suspects it's a genetic transmutation due recent CMEs.
SCTV, Da-da's boys are ready for their close-up.
|Da-da misses the Schmenge brothers. Jeez, how could you not?|
|[img src: gifmovie]|
Boy, this isn't what flu-ridden Da-da needs. He knows that it's better to be stolen from than have to steal, but this is pretty lame, as this guy gets paid and Da-da has to clean the kitchen again and again and again... even if he's sick (can you hear the violins? or are those Da-da's tendons?). Anyway, looks like a writer at an NBC affiliate lifted Da-da's story and source from his Monday post, "Your Future May Vary -- A LOT."
Here's the link.
Da-da will remove the curse he's placed on NBC if they clean Da-da's kitchen and stop showing R-rated commercials during football games. (Yes, that means cleaning the oven, too, Vlad.) There is that old adage, "mediocre minds think alike" to consider, but Da-da has no mind left, so this shorts no shrift in Da-da's shorts.
|Da-da's mind is down there somewhere. Can you hear it laughing? [img src Phantoms and Monsters]|
Rule #2 of course is never get involved in a land war in Asia, so instead, Da-da has invaded all countries on earth (even Vatican City, shh) and installed high energy casino plasma dispensers in all the bathrooms. Seriously, Rule #2 is...
RULE #2: NEVER WRITE WHEN YOU HAVE
A HIGH FEVER
A HIGH FEVER
Sound advice, especially when Da-da's fever is currently... ah, 104. Ooch. Please see Rule #1 if you haven't already, but Da-da's gotta tell you he's liking that casino plasma thing, except for the casino part. Alas, Da-da feels like William H. Macy in casinos. Uh oh... fever's inducing Da-da's telekinetic powers to spool up. Um, everyone... run.
|Jinkies. Da-da's pretty in red.|
RULE #1: DON'T EAT LEFTOVER KID FOOD. EVER.
Yes. Leftover kid food. Besides being the yummy adult equivalent of somatic lead (read PURE FAT), half-eaten leftover kid food -- when not burned by the CDC in Atlanta -- is highly contagious, especially after school has started.
Da-da knows this. He knows that when you eat leftover kid food (um, from your kid's plate, because you feel guilty wasting it), you're basically eating the Swiss Family Robinson of Disease Vectors, all current kid maladies fluxing through area elementary schools in one toxic bite. Ah, but what you may have forgotten is that Da-da's brain has been missing for years and is still at large ("large" being a polite descriptor), so he mistakenly broke RULE #1 last night, tempted by those awful goddamn little chicken dinosaurs that contain opium and a mind-altering substance that makes you not only eat them but crave them, even if they're nine days old and lying in radioactive mud, yielding aches and pains and truly epic run-on sentences. Opium kills germs, right? Oh, the kid-laden humanity.