Nerdgasm

Taken 2/29/12 in the Oval Office - Live Long & Prosper!:

I award you 1 million snark points

Update: I think I fixed the awful, unreadable color problem

In honor of 1982 invasion of the Falkland Islands I give you the following fine example of British sarcasm in a military setting:

At 4.30pm on 2 April, the Governor's telex operator had this conversation with a Ministry of Defence operative in London, announcing that the islands were under Argentine control.^[39]

LON (London): HELLO THERE WHAT ARE ALL THESE RUMOURS WE HEAR THIS IS LON
FK (Falklands): WE HAVE LOTS OF NEW FRIENDS
LON: WHAT ABOUT INVASION RUMOURS
FK: THOSE ARE THE FRIENDS I WAS MEANING
LON: THEY HAVE LANDED
FK: ABSOLUTELY
LON: ARE YOU OPEN FOR TRAFFIC IE NORMAL TELEX SERVICE
FK: NO ORDERS ON THAT YET ONE MUST OBEY ORDERS
LON: WHOSE ORDERS
FK: THE NEW GOVERNORS
LON: ARGENTINA
FK: YES
LON: ARE THE ARGENTINIANS IN CONTROL
FK: YES YOU CAN'T ARGUE WITH THOUSANDS OF TROOPS PLUS ENORMOUS NAVY SUPPORT WHEN YOU ARE ONLY 1600 STRONG. STAND BY. (Source)

Hey guys, what's up?
There are dudes here with guns.
So what about those crazy Argentinians?
Those are the dudes with the guns, dumbass.

The Faulkland TELEX operator could not possibly give less of a shit. What are they going to do? Arrest him?

Does anyone else imagine how this would have turned out on Twitter? Also, why didn't Margaret Thatcher just frighten the Argentineans away with her scary, scary, scariness?

I've Uncovered the Secret of Ancient Egyptian Medicine

Consider the following scenario:
Ancient Egyptian Peasant: Dude, my eye hurts like Set's asshole!
Other Ancient Egyptian Peasant: Don't you mean like Horus's eye? That Set poked out. That we draw on everything. And that will rank in the top 10 unoriginal tattoos.
Peasant 1: Shut up, asshole sounds funnier.
Peasant 2: whatevs
Priest/Healer: hey, your eye hurts? I can fix that! Let me smear some of this on it.
Peasant 1: Um, is that poop?
Priest: No! Don't be ridiculous! It's poop and mucous and some straw.
Peasant 1: Hey, what do you know? My eye is totally better! I need to, um, go do some stonecarving. Bye!

Yep.

Bittersweet

My birthday is tomorrow and I just realized it will be the first time in my life my Nana won't sing Happy Birthday for me.
But it does make me smile remembering all the times she did.

In other news, I hate mosquitoes. And the Topamax has not yet made me a total wreck. My arthritis is flaring up like whoa though. I have sausage fingers and a swollen knee. Grumble.

Whoa have I been slacking off

Topiramate (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Between teaching (which sucks a lot of prep time as I do a lot of slides) and having a cold or a flare or both I have not been blogging with anything like normal regularity.

Latest news: I am teaching in the summer and probably next fall. Sweet! Both are things I've never taught before, but, um, yeah.

I finally got in to see a neurologist here. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a pin-striped suit, which made me do confused head-tilt, but he seems competent and is probably not a mobster, so we're cool. I am trying Topamax to prevent migraines.
I'm a little nervous - the side-effects do not sound fun, but willing to try it out. Everyone cross your fingers I don't turn into a suicidal zombie, which seems to be the most scary possibility.
I have enough trouble with brain fog as it is...

Ummm, what else?

I had to drive far-ish (for me) for the neurology appointment yesterday. I discovered (re-discovered?) that driving makes me question the size of other drivers' penises when they do stupid things. Or are in sports cars. Or it's Tuesday.

Oreo and I have been sitting on the patio for a while every day. He likes soaking up the sun and having a leisurely sniff-survey. I have to be  really careful to avoid sun rash/burn between my autoimmune disease and the meds to treat it (because making photosensitive people MORE photosensitive is AWESOME!!!), but I do like sitting out or at least having the door open for a lot of the day.

My birthday is coming up and I'm hoping to get the hat linked below and some sun gloves and sleeves so I can be outside more during the day.
Sundancer UV Protective Hat

Archaeology that makes me squee!!!

Today my class took a test the first half of class, so I did some reading to prep questions about the other textbook I assigned: Daily Life in Ancient Egypt
This resulted in the following gems:

The Metropolitan Museum of Art - Feeding Cup
Why, yes, that is an ancient baby sippy-cup. And it is awesome.

The other thing was this:

...white dogs with large black spots make a regular appearance in Middle Kingdom tombs as pets, and even as guardian deities...

Yup, totally a guardian deity.

Duuuude

Source, minus my artistic additions.

What What

In my butt!
UTI didn't go away, probably hit my kidneys. Sunday and Monday were super fun days of fever, horrible shuddering chills, horrific back pain, and nausea and vomiting. Bad enough I cancelled class.
So, Tom took me to Urgent Care Monday evening and I got a shot of antibiotics in the ass, some Cipro, which is what I should have gotten in the first place (and which I will bitchily insist on in the future) and some anti-nausea meds that I've been taking cautiously because they might interact in scary ways with other meds I cannot skip.

And I swear every time I get Cipro they've added new and frightening warnings to the patient information. Which sucks, but it works so whatever.

Also, in the middle of that I agreed to teach Cultural Anthropology this summer. I have no idea. Should be entertaining for someone.

Feeling much improved today but still very very tired.

Also, LOLARCHAEOLOGY

I believe I will go nap now.

If Only I Had Tenure

I would actually use this slide.

It's Min, by the way, from Coptos.
And he is totally all about the penis.

Still Alive. Mostly.

Image via Wikipedia

My class is tiny. Tiny enough to be sort of weird. But at least it didn't get cancelled.

I've been freaking out the last 2 weeks pulling lectures together for topics I didn't cover that much with the old textbooks. This week is a little easier aside from the complication that is a UTI. It feels like someone is stabbing me in the left  kidney. Super fun. Trying to get a doctor to give me better antibiotics.

This week I'm just refining existing lecture and presentation. I had to firmly resist putting "OM NOM NOM" on this photo.

But that is totally what the lion is saying. It's in the missing piece of the palette. I swear it is. Just like the reconstructed stuff on this thing.

Planet of the Spray Tan

Watching "The Apple" at the moment.

Also known as:
"Look at these freaking Oompa Loompas"
"Holy crap, it's the planet of the guidos."
"Beta Carotene is all we eat"

Also, I've discovered another instance of Star Trek character or Republican?

Check it out:

Orange dipshit.

Uncannily similar orange dipshit who borrowed Biden's hair.

Someone find me a Democrat Star Trek doppleganger. I'll give you an internet pie. Or something.

The Sentimentality of Teaching

Image by shoveling_ferret via Flickr

The past few days and coming week are a time of introspection and memory for me. Tom has gone on a 10-day trip to Sudan leaving me with decidedly mixed feelings. I of course hope he has fun and is safe, but there are emotions connected with some less than pleasant memories of that last season and, I must admit, a tiny bit of jealousy that he can go and I no longer can. Adulthood is a bitch.

I'm also preparing to teach again and have been updating my syllabus and reviewing my old lecturing notes and presentations. I hadn't realized how many memories would be triggered doing this. I have found myself remembering the days in class I learned about certain topics. How difficult translating particular texts was. And in reviewing introductions to formal translations, very amused reading between the lines in discussions of why particular approaches were taken in translation.
I am happy that most of those memories are pleasant and leave me a bit wistful, but not depressed or even particularly regretful.
I am looking forward to teaching again and hoping desperately that my brain fog and fatigue and occasional aphasia won't be too much to deal with. I am optimistic in that regard.

Oreo, on the other hand, is a bit grumpy that I have several books and papers out, which means that I am not available to pay full attention to him at any moment. Poor doggy.

Course Prep

Psycho-kinetic Ancient Space Greeks Are Assholes

Image via Wikipedia

Woo, Star Trek.

At the moment, the episode Plato's Stepchildren is on. For those who are not complete nerds, this episode is best known for being one of the first interracial kisses shown on national television in the United States. Shatner got to smooch Nichelle Nichols.

As it was 1968, NBC was worried that backwards idiots might get all butt-hurt about a white guy kissing a super hot black lady. I'm guessing jealousy was a big part of that. I mean, what good, racist asshole wouldn't want to kiss William Shatner? Wait, what?

As it turns out, it doesn't seem to have been a huge deal. Maybe klan meetings were on Star Trek nights? Or no one felt like driving to LA to burn crosses?

Aside from the stupid racism, there's a huge pile of other stupid there. There are far more disturbing things than a kiss in that episode.

Shatner pretending to be a very vocal pony while being ridden by the character Alexander ranks much, much higher in the "holy shit, I am actively uncomfortable watching this" category.

Also, very short tunics. On men. Not good.

Spock is forced to dance around Kirk's head and then be all emotional.

Also, the bitchy "Platonian" lady seems to be getting off on watching Kirk and Uhura being forced to make out.

And Majel Barrett's eye makeup is, um, yeah...

An entire society of ancient space Egyptians would have been waaaaaay cooler.

National Holiday

Today should be one, because it's Tom's birthday.

Prostrate yourselves before Tom, MASTER OF ARCHAEOLOGY!!!!

Question of Vital Importance

We do not own a recliner. We have a couch, two kind of uncomfortable but lovely old wooden office chairs, a rocking chair, the four chairs with our dining table, my office chair and if we're getting desperate a balance ball, a zafu, a perching stool, and some random pillows.

Oreo doesn't look this derptastic.

My parents and Tom's parents do, however, have recliners as do some friends. Oreo immediately occupies any open recliner as soon as doggily possible. It doesn't matter how many other comfy spots are open - in the absence of food to beg for or appealing toys he is in that recliner. On occasion, he attempts to occupy the recliner even when the usual occupant is still present. Watching Oreo just wander over, jump onto Dad's lap, and actually try to wedge himself further into the recliner with my dad already in it is hilarious.
"Oh, I'm sorry large boy-human, were you already in the chair? I'm a guest, you know. And I need this chair. Also, I find your gruff demeanor entirely unconvincing and will therefore cuddle with you for a minute."

With Tom's dad there's usually a stare down when his dad returns to his briefly unoccupied chair to find Oreo in it. Tom's dad tells Oreo to get out of the chair. Oreo blinks at him. Repeat until Oreo finally slithers out of the chair looking deeply offended.

We were just talking vaguely about getting a nicer couch and recliner at some point. And I wonder - if we could afford it would Oreo prefer a full size recliner or would he like one of those little ones for little kids?

Serious freakin' business, people.

Happy Holidays, Enjoy Your Balls

Went to my in-laws for Xmas this year. Nice trip, fun to see little kids for Christmas.

We drove home today. We pass a state penitentiary on the way. Tom says we should take Oreo to the penitentiary (because saying mean things to Oreo is one of Tom's hobbies).
I replied that Oreo did his time in the joint and had paid his debt to society. (I adopted him from Animal Control lo these many years ago.)
So Tom says maybe we should take him to talk to the inmates:
"Once, I was in a place like this, just like you..."
And I finished:
"...and then they cut off my balls and gave me to some strange lady."

I don't think Oreo will be pursuing a career as a motivational speaker.

In other news, Tom got me knitting books! Rock!

And the Children Shall Lead

Turns out the Plaquenil was doing more than giving me heartburn. I've been out for about a month and the past few weeks my various autoimmune related symptoms have gotten much, much worse. I've been running a fever for at least the past few days, hands have swollen up again, arthritis is worse, tingling/numbness in hands, and my mid-back is like crazy painful. And, really, I was still having wicked heartburn. Dammit. Anyway, I've resumed taking it, hopefully it will work again.

I have also found a wonderful general care clinic. Very happy about that.

Discomfort has been keeping me up late - arthritis or heartburn/acid reflux seem to be taking turns. Grumble.

Tonight I decided some knitting and Star Trek were in order. Tonight, I was particularly interested to notice something about the episode "And the Children Shall Lead." The scary-ass Gorgan dude looks remarkably like a certain former Speaker of the House. Coincidence?

One used mind-control techniques to take advantage of others and sap their strength through fear. The other one is a fictional character.

Ba-dum-tish

And here's some bonus scary:

Identity Crisis

Image via Wikipedia
How did they do aerobics in those robes?
And what exactly is dude measuring with his hands?
And is Jesus pearl-clutching?

So I finally got around to checking the academic schedule to see when I'm teaching next term. I thought I'd have to be ready to go on the 2nd of January as long, painful, sometimes hung-over experience at the University of Chicago had taught me, but it turns out I have until near the end of January to procrastinate updating my lectures and junk. My textbook samples arrived last week (I had requested them in September) and after a grand total of 5 minutes examining them, I adopted two of them for this term in the hopes they'll be slightly less confusing than the textbooks I used last time.

Cool.

It occurs to me though that I am not quite sure what to say when people ask me what I do. I already had a preview of this after my Nana's funeral. Someone asked what I did and my uncle told them I was a teacher. So the guy asked what grade I taught. And I said "college." And there was sort of awkward silence.

Ahem.

Then the guy asked what class I taught and I said "ancient Egyptian history" because that's the easiest answer. And every few minutes for the rest of the afternoon he kindly (and loudly) warned me to watch out for mummies. Why, yes, there was drinking involved, why do you ask?

I decided that was probably not the best time to bring up excavating cemeteries and storing skeletons under my bed for safety (of the skeletons).  Seriously, though, that got really damn annoying.

Anyway, thus my identity crisis.

I'm not a professor. Technically I'm an instructor. But I can already see the hilarity possible in that conversation.

Random person: So, what do you do?
Me: I'm an instructor.
Random person: Of what?
Me: (Gripping cane tightly) Aerobics.¹

Also, the campus where I teach is in a mall. As in next to JC Penny's. Because surreality is my reality.

---

1 Other potential responses include: "Karate" and "Your Mom"

Grover Is Disappoint

I'm glad to see that despite no longer living in the big city, we still get stories of utter derpitude locally. Like this bunch of dimwits calling themselves the Savior Unit. I especially like this quote from the news article I linked:

The manual has a manifesto of the group that includes promoting Christ, helping law enforcement, doing community service, reconnaissance, infiltration, apprehension and “retrieval.”

This puts me in mind of a song from my childhood.

I think maybe these guys missed Sesame Street.