Cthulhu of the Day III – Are You Ready Kids?

"In his pineaple at Bikini Bottom dead Cthulhu waits dreaming."


Well, because of several reasons (technical, personal, duty…) I was unable to post many of these so I will continue through the week.

Here's one that Major John will like.

Cthulhu of the Day II - Hello

In honor of our OVER ONE THOUSAND VISITORS I want to send a hearty

Thought for the Day V – Thoreau

I'm not too keen on Thoreau, but I like this one:

"When a dog runs at you, whistle for him." – Henry David Thoreau

I dig that. It smacks of Lincoln's never look a gift horse in the mouth. I haven't seen any dogs lately, but if I see one I know what I'm gonna do.

"Excuses don't give reason and reasons don't excuse." I don't know who said this, but I heard it on a Flipping show that my wife was watching (I don't mean "flipping" as a euphemism for another "f" word, but try it like that and see what you think). It's been a crazy week. I forgot my dayplanner at my in-laws' house and I'm really out of sorts. I'll try to get back on track. I've got a lot to tell you about NaNoWriMo.

Hey how did we get to 1,000 visitors? Wow. Congrats everybody and thanks!

Cthulhu of the Day I

As Halloween approaches I want to try a new feature, Cthulhu of the Day. I'll post a new image of the Great Cthulhu daily.

Since it's Friday I'm posting Apathulhu

Thought for the Day IV – Toynbee Civilization

"Civilization is a movement and not a condition, a voyage and not a harbor." – Arnold Toynbee

I have a BA in Anthropology so culture and civilization are very interesting to me. I stated in an earlier post that I believe we now live in a worldwide civilization with many facets.

I think I like this definition. It may explain why all civilizations have fallen in the past. When they reach harbor they stop. They cease being a civilization.

I'm also interested in creating civilizations. In Sci-Fi and Fantasy authors often create what is referred to as their fictional Universe or World. I'm a member of a web group called Conculture that discusses constructed cultures. I think I'll share with you in this blog some of my ideas for some of my Concivilizations.

Thought for the Day III – Vince Lombardi

"It is time for us all to stand and cheer for the doer, the achiever – the one who recognizes the challenge and does something about it." – Vince Lombardi

After last night's thievery of a win for the Bears against the Arizona Cardinals the only "Doer" I can think of is Brian Urlacher.

He took it upon himself to lead that team out of ignominious defeat. I really didn't think they would win, but when it was 23 – 17 I thought they had at least made it a game. Urlacher said that they even felt confident that they'd block the field goal. They didn't, but I'm sure the fear of the Bears is what made the miss.

I hate saying that sports figures are heroes based only on what they do on the field. Roberto Garza, a Bears rookie, is involved in a housing development project called Hometown Huddle. That heroism and being a "Doer" in my book, but dang it was nice to see the defense say, "enough of this nonsense" and straighten things out.

Let's stand up and cheer a "Doer" today.

Who's your "Doer?"

Thought for the Day II – Calvin Coolidge

"Prosperity is only an instrument to be used, not a deity to be worshiped." – Calvin Coolidge

So says a man who had a whole orchestra full of instruments at a time when most folks didn't have two spoons to slap together. I'm not sure when he said this, but if it was during the Great Depression then it smacks of Marie Antoinette telling her poor to eat cake.

A shovel is only an instrument to help gain prosperity, but if you don't have one it doesn't matter what marvelous ditches you would have dug, you're not going to put food in your children's mouths.

On the other hand, it looks like a good Protestant work ethic, and I like it (despite my being a good papist).

Thought for the Day I

I'm going to try something. I know I've kept a roman numeral day count before, and I promised a weekly story serial, but this should be shorter and simplier.

I have a Franklin-Covey day planner that has quotes each day. Some of them are really good and profound, and short. I'm going to start with them and see if I can't give you all a thought for the day from quotes and my take on them.

"We must remember that any opperession, any injustice, any hatred, is a wedge designed to attack our civilization." - FDR
1

I agree with this and I think that everybody along the spectrium from Left to Right would agree to it. What I don't think they'd agree to is what to do about it.

I say fight. Don't stand for it and sacrifice everything for our civilization.

What is our civilization? In light of the interconnectedness of the world today I'd say that there is only one civilization today and we are all a part. Therefore if you attack our civilization you are attacking all of humanity.

All civilizations throughout history have eventually fallen. We cannot afford to let this one fall, because it is everybody, everywhere. It's all we have.

Army Strong

Wow! I like this new Army ad campaign. This is powerful stuff.

Army Strong, dang straight. "There is nothing on this green earth that is stronger than the US Army."

I hate Hooah, but, well, HOOAH!

This reminds me of this poster:


It also has a little Bernini's David in it:


And also a little Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, "A strength to get yourself over, a strength to GET OVER YOURSELF." (Stick that up your butt Army of One!)

The music is epic too.

It has a sense of history too. It reminds me about an email going around a while back on Veteran's Day with this photo.


The official campaign begins 9 Nov 06 I wonder why they aren't waiting until the 11th? I guess it can't be perfect.

Pseudo Football

I entered a contest at Mirable Visu and lost (this after my startling, come from behind victory, in the last contest). It's a comedy so you may be inclined to laugh. That's okay.

If you're inclined to comment that's okay too.

Here's how the entry ran:

WORDCOUNT - 1404

SUBJECTS – Play and Football
OPTIONAL CHALLENGES b) Use both subjects in a comedy set on/in another world.

TITLE: False Foot Ball

“Did you hear about the emergency staff meeting, Amy?”

“No, Bill.”

“It’s right now in the Bored room. I think it’s about restructuring.”

Amy groaned. She and Bill made their way through the starship to the crowded Bored room. Chris and Dan were standing in the front.

“Now that we’re all here I want to take this time to thank Chris for the wonderful job she’s done as Captain.”

There was light applause. Dan whispered something to Chris, got a frowned answer and then addressed the room again.

“Chris has been gracious enough to let me announce her promotion. She is going to be the new head of Sector Vending Management. Let’s give Chris a round of applause and wish her good luck.”

Before the weak applause could begin again Ernie spoke out, “Isn’t this the only ship in this sector?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Dan said. “What’s your position now Ernie?”

“Ship’s Vending Officer.”

Before the moment could get too awkward Bill mercifully led the applause for Chris’ promotion.

“There had to be some restructuring of the crew because of Chris’ promotion and I will be the new Captain,” Dan said. “My old position of Coordination Coordinator will be filled by Frank and Frank’s old position of Ship’s Engineer will be left vacant for the time being.”

Frank stood to receive the undeserved applause.

“Since we’re all here I thought we could just go into the daily shift briefing. It’s okay that you don’t have your PowerSpot slides. Just make sure you get them to my secretary Sue within thirty seconds of the end of the meeting, okay? Who’s first?”

Gus stood. “We just got the marketing report for the planet name and Mongo was considered most favorable.”

“Mongo?” Dan asked.

“They feel that the planet should have a name that’s easy to pronounce with an other worldly, yet familiar sound. Also it’s very small with a fast rotation so that it tends to have only one weather pattern at a time.”

“How small is it?”

“Land area equivalent to the size of an average suburb.”

“Gravity?”

“Earth equivalent. It’s very dense.”

“Good. That’ll make the population that much easier to exploit.”

“The planet itself is dense sir.”

“Well, we can always exploit the natural resources, and call me Dan. We’re all friends here. Next.”

Henry stood. “Captain Dan, we might be too late to exploit anything. Sensors show that the Soccer Missionaries are already on the planet and have made in-roads with the population who have already formed youth leagues, teams and recently invented the mini-van and Soccer Mom stickers.”

“That’s some sensor,” Dan said tapping his chin in thought.

“Thank you sir,” Henry beamed.

“Call me Dan. This could be hairy.”

“Henry sir.”

“Dan Henry.” Dan threw his arms wide and addressed the room, “Fine. Put us down right next to their ship. Which one is it?”

“SS Wembley.”

Later, as the M$$ Chaching descended, everyone who was not busy looking busy or actually being busy was at the windows.

The Wembley was an impressive site. She was an exact replica of the stadium in London, complete with robotic fans, players and support crew. She was powered by the most advanced improbability drive. The movements of the robots were actually calculated exactly to produce the probability that the stadium would actually lift off the ground and fly through space at superluminal speeds. Surprisingly this was often achieved simply by having the robotic teams actually score more than two goals apiece.

The stadium seats were actually empty and the ship was idling with the robotic grounds crew maintaining the field.

The Chaching set down gently beside the Wembley, just as you would expect a beige, multistory office building not to land if thrown across billions of miles of vacuum. Undersized pitches filled with children in bright uniforms and disgruntled adults screaming alternately at the referees, their children, other people’s children, other parents, the coach and at whatever passed as a divinity on that planet surrounded them.

Amy, Chris, Dan and Henry walked out of the Chaching and took a look around. Dan seemed to notice Chris for the first time.

“Why are you here Chris?”

“There may be vending opportunities here.”

Dan laughed; “You actually think that that position is re-” he stopped himself. “Right. Good idea Sector Vending Manager.”

Henry typed into his Boysenberry. Amy pulled hers out and read it. “There appears to be no intelligent life here anywhere.”

Dan looked around, confused. “Hardly.”

“Henry sir.”

“Look,” Amy said, “the crew from the Wembley must be under that canopy.”

They walked over and knew she was right when they saw the elaborate paperwork and the multitude of golf shirts with logos from various positions and previous years.

A native, alien woman was at the table trying to fill out a form. She looked exactly like a human woman in early middle age, except she had a mole on her nose.

"Um, I'm not sure what's on my son's third allele of his tenth chromosome."

"Just put 'yes,'" said a woman who wore a shirt embroidered with the name "Ida."

"Excuse me. Are you Soccer Missionaries?" Dan said, standing in a classic starship Captain's stance.

"We prefer Association Football Proselytizers." Ida said. Clearly she was the bossiest.

"We're from the Corporation ship Chaching," Dan jerked his thumb back toward their ship.

"If you're from a Corporation ship, what's your Prime Directive?" The Proselytizer asked.

"To make money for the stockholders," Dan said.

"Well, we demand the right to spread the word of 'The Beautiful Game' to the dominant life form of this planet." A man wearing John's shirt said.

"There are no ri-" Dan began, but at that very moment all the Chaching crew's Boysenberries and the cell phones of the Proselytizers rang. At the same time three "creatures" approached them as gracefully and stealthily as three giant mechanical geese with malfunctioning necks, one leg too short, dragging their mufflers and with desiel engines that weren't tuned properly.

Not that they looked at all like giant mechanical geese.

The creatures looked like ceramic bathtubs on ceramic tank treads. The "tubs" were topped by what looked like a stand-alone shower curtain that tightly ringed the tub. Out from under each curtain poked two snail-like eyestalks.

Henry read his text message aloud. "Excuse us. You are mistaken. These creatures are not the dominant life forms on this planet, we are."

"Who are you and how are you texting us?" Dan demanded.

The text flowed again. Henry continued to act as translator by reading. "We are what you humans don't have a word for yet. You may call us 'Snails' since they are the creatures most similar to ourselves from your planet. We extrude these shells that you see and we wear these curtains on our radio antenna which we also extrude naturally. We are texting you because we communicate through natural radio transmissions. We're WiFi compatible."

"We may seem like cold, hard, unfeeling bathtubs on the outside, but on the inside we're really soft and vulnerable."

"Way to expose our fatal weakness Jack."

One of the snails clanked into the flank of another.

"Ouch," Henry read.

"How do you know about our planet?"

"We've been watching and listening to your broadcasts for decades. We were most intrigued by your World Cups and thought Soccer would be a good pastime for our pets."

"Pets? Do you mean that these people are your pets?" Amy asked.

"Do they like snack food?" Chris asked.

"You mean you were the ones who invited us here and you only want us to teach 'The Beautiful Game' to your slaves?" John the Proselytizer asked.

"Pets yes. Yes they do. Pets. Yes." Henry read the answers to all the questions.

"Don’t you want to learn 'The Beautiful Game' too?" One of the younger Proselytizers asked plaintively.

"We have no feet, therefore we have no use for your Soccer, but the crew of the M$$ Chaching may be able to help us with a different sport. One better suited to our strengths."

What looked like a loofah brush and a chrome soap caddy stuck out from under one of the Snail's curtains. "We have hands as you can see. We also have brilliant minds and armor."

"Of course!" Dan exclaimed with a pronounced American accent, "The best game for you would be-"

Henry interrupted with his reading of the text, "Office politics."

Prop on Iraq

Er, I mean Prop on A ROCK!

I found him.

Yep. I was climbing around in the Pakistani part of the Hindu Kush and guess who I bumped into? UBL, OBL himself. This is how it happened:

Me, "Osama! Dude. WHASUP!"

OBL, nothing.

"Hey buddy, there's a lot of people out looking for your sorry butt. What's you got to say?"

UBL, nothing again.

"Hey?" Prop prods the criminal with a blunt stick. A sad, See-N-Say voice says, "Kill all Americans."

"Huh?" I prod him again. He falls over and that voice says, "See I got away."

Then I figured it out. They stuffed him and stuck a pull-string recording up his butt.

Here's a pic:

Three Things Found Floating Around the Shuttle

Scientists have found three more things floating around the shuttle. It won't delay the landing and they refuse to show photos of what the objects are.

In another Illini6 exclusive we bring you the only photo you'll see (on this blog) of the three things floating just outside the shuttle cargo bay.

Prop Reads Pope!

Well, I've actually read the text of Pope Benedict XVI's speech 12 Sep 06.

First I have to say, if it's a rallying cry and a slap in the face for Muslims there are darn few who would or could actually read through the dense language to find it. If there was any doubt that the Holy Father was a professor one only has to try to read this.

Okay. If I read this correctly, there was this Eastern Roman Emperor (Manuel II Paleologos) who was talking with a Muslim while the Muslims were besieging Constantinople.

The Emperor was arguing against forcing conversion by violence. In his argument he said that you must use logic along with your faith to understand the will of God.

Muslims are not required to do that (Islam didn't develop with as strong a Greek (and therefore Socratic) influence and thus to a Muslim God is above and not constrained by logic).

I think the Pope was trying to say that to Christians it is just presumed that logic and faith go hand in hand (although there have been movements to separate logic from theology). It is natural for us. It isn't for other faiths.

The really radical thing that he said (IMHO) is the faiths that do not use logic and faith to understand the will of God are wrong (i.e. Islam).

I can't say I disagree.

That Noise

That noise you heard late this morning (it may have actually been audible on the ISS (I know there is no sound in space, but that’s only because there is no media by which to transmit the sound waves, but if you had some piece of the atmosphere blown off the earth by a very loud sound that air WOULD carry the wave and you COULD hear it)) was the sound of millions of suburban American men mowing their lawns before the game.

My wife makes me BAG it. I hate that. Men don’t want to BAG (that’s a tinny sort of word). We want to MULCH! That’s a manly sort of word. It reminds us of what we want our team to do to their opponents. Mulch, slice, dice, shred, mince (well, that’s not too manly either, scratch that), rend, obliterate, ANNIHILATE!

On the other hand, bag is like sack and that’s okay. Yeah, honey, I ain’t gunna bag anymore. From now on I’m gunna SACK the clippings.

Yep, it doesn’t matter what team they support. In fall, on Sundays, when the grass is long and the wife is na- er, I mean reminding lovingly, the boys go out and fire up the Toros, Hondas and Lawnboys. It may not be cut well, but it’s cut, and it’s cut before the game starts. That’s what counts.

Sometimes testosterone can be deafening.

GO BEARS!

Illini6 Exclusive!

The Fighting Illini lost this Saturday to Rutgers 33-0. That's sad, but something else happened Sunday with another team that wears orange and blue (NO, not Florida! We were Orange and Blue before they were so go someplace else!)

Da Bears shutout Green Bay. That's right. The Packers had the second longest active non-shutout streak in the NFL and Da Bears shut them out (pass the beef). Guess who the last team to shut out the Pack was? That's right; Da Bears back in 1991 (with Da Coach)!

Here's something even more amazing. That number 4 of theirs, the guy who doesn't even know how to pronounce his own name (but I've heard he's a pretty good football player), can't remember the last time HE was shutout.

He can't remember the last time he was shutout, not because he's so old he has Alzheimer's, not because his bell was rung yesterday, no, because it was so long ago.

Well, I had to dig long and hard to find this, but here it is, an Illini6 exclusive. A photo of Brett Favre (pronounced Fav-Ray) the last time he was shutout.

Oh Yeah! I'm Back Baby!

I won! I won the latest Mirable Visu SSIW (Short Sharp Intuitive Writing) contest!

I can't believe it. I'm so happy. It's been a very long time since I've won a writing contest and I was very surprised. I had to read it over and over again!

You can go here and read my story. Just scroll down and look for "Faun-O-Matic" posted by Inner Prop.

Good day, good day!

Oh, and I figured out a better way to manip photos. Watch out!


EDITOR'S NOTE: MV dumps the stories as soon as the next contest starts so I'm going to post my winning story here for you to read.


Faun-O-Matic

Initiate Bacchanalia

"How 'bout some of that vino, buddy?" I asked the man with the bottle.

The party was young; the night beautiful; everyone was well dressed and everything, the deck, the house, the whole subdivision, was new.

I spotted a man offering another a cigar.

"Got one for me, pal?"

The men were so startled by my appearance they complied unquestioningly. Thus provisioned, I went in search of the hostess.

Half the guests were on the deck. The rest were taking a tour of the house or gathered around the food in the dining room. I went inside to the hostess: a beautiful young woman in a short, red dress showing long, shapely legs.

Initiate Social Intercourse

She smelled my cigar.

"No cigars in the house," she turned and her jaw dropped.

"Who, WHAT are you?"

"A satyr," a man stated, looking over his glasses.

"Similar, only more FAUN. Get it." I nudged a woman's knee near me.

"A faun?"

Initiate Self Analysis

I looked down at my hairy, vest-covered chest; fur covered groin and legs; and my hooves.

Identity Confirmed.

"Yup. I'm a faun, actually a faundroid," I hopped onto a chair to be eye level with the guests, and look down the dresses.

"Dan!" Hostess screeched, then asked me, "How did you get here, where did you come from, what do you want?"

I took a drag from my cigar. Everyone leaned in closely.

"Several very rich men with access to very high technology had daughters who were playmates. When these daughters became fascinated with fantasy worlds their fathers built them an enchanted forest, with electronic fauns, nymphs, unicorns and dragons. Unfortunately, by the time the forest was built, the girls had discovered boys and wanted no part of it. They sold it off to real estate developers and it became your lovely homes."

I drank.

"They rounded the dragons and unicorns up for private zoos. There are just a few fauns and nymphs left, mostly in the stand of trees between the back-yards."

The crowd gasped and looked out to the back of the property.

"As for what I want - to enjoy the party for Dionysus' sake. Oo, are those stuffed mushrooms?" I leaned over, but a male hand grabbed my wrist.

"Why aren't you out there?" Host Dan demanded.

Initiate Internal Pain Abatement

"I was kicking it with this knock-out hamadryad when the forest was 'developed.' We 'droids are so small we're radio controlled by our main computers in large, stationary objects. When they bulldozed my Meliae's tree she died, leaving me alone."

"Alone?" Hostess asked quietly.

"You can't go too far from your 'brain.' Mine's that ornamental boulder near your deck. If I went as far as the back of your property I 'd shut off, die."

There was silence.

"But, hey!" I pulled out a harmonica. "This is a party."

As I started playing I noticed my glass.

"How 'bout some of that vino, buddy?" I asked the man with the bottle.

Opening the Closing

Ms. Katie Couric began a new stage in her carreer last night. Now it isn't my place to question so eminent a citizen, but you'da thunk she'd have figured out her closing line.

Anywho, apparently you can email her and let her know what you think her closing line, or sign off should be. I have several suggestions:

1. Truth - that's not a suggestion for the closing, but a suggestion for the whole broadcast.

2. It's my news, you're just living it

And my favorite, in a partial reprise of her role in Undercover Brother:

3. Solid!

Greeks and Persians

In honor of Labor Day this weekend, we took my In-Laws to O'Hare to go to Greece for a couple of months.

Then we rewarded ourselves by going to Noon-O-Kabab, a Persian resturant in Chicago that Mrs. Prop had seen on Check Please several months ago. We had been looking for the place each time we went through the city.

The kids loved it and the waitress was great.

Then we drove home via Sheridan Road cuz we love driving through the North Shore (think Cameron's house in Ferris Bueller's Day Off).

Day XLII - I'm a Lumberjack

My In-Laws had a tree
The tree was dead
it had to be cut down
If I dropped it on my head
I'd look like a clown







They really did have a cherry tree that was threatening to fall on the power wires for the house. We cut it down and I feel, well, I feel like...

I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay!

Day XLI - Springtime for Hitler

Today is the 67th anniversary of the day the Germans invaded Poland.

How's that for upbeat.

I suppose Illinois is next.

Oh oh, too late.