Showing posts with label What...on...earth?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label What...on...earth?. Show all posts

3.08.2007

Watch out...


Be careful where you place your feet...

3.07.2007

Heavens

I found this strangely inspiring. Like a friend once said, everybody's gotta have a dream.

3.05.2007

St. Germaine

Ah, you gotta love the phrasology of old writers:

The student starts off by saying that no such thing is in the law of England, but is rather a “general maxim” to guard against the probable possibility “that every man by a nude parole and by a bare averment should avoid an obligation.” I.e., somebody’s word or mere statement of fact is not sufficient to absolve them from an obligation—something of more “authority” is needed.
Okay, that wasn't actually an ancient writer (it was actually RW on St. German), but I tell you it must have been hard to be released on "nude parole." One can only imagine what a strange legal system it was when you could get out of jail so long as someone came to court in the buff to plead for you (bare averment) and you promised not to wear any clothes while outside the walls of the slammer. Let's just hope you didn't get paroled in the cold midwinter, King Wenceslas.

2.28.2007

Death on High


Falling into the category "I-have-no-category-for-this-oddness," it appears that "six feet under" may soon be a quite inappropriate description of some final resting places.

Though it looks like something out of Perdido Street Station, it's really a skyscraping extension to the Memorial Necrópole Ecumênica, "a vertical cemetery established in Santos in Brazil in 1983."

This futuristic, insectile extension "will create another 25,000 niches, set inside a 108-metre-high tower block that will complete the complex."

It will be circled by birds, looming alien on the horizon.
Further reading on this truly odd tower reveals that "vertical cemeteries" already exist around the globe. To continue this adventure, continue reading and see other cooler pictures at BLDGBLOG.

2.27.2007

Sweet Meru, Sign Me Up

Give it a minute...every childhood dream will come true as this guy blows your mind.

2.26.2007

Ossuary's 15

And in other news, James Cameron is an idiot. Make sure you note the dissenting view: the archaeologist that discovered the tombs.

2.21.2007

Kafkannated: 46 & 45

Kafka may have thought he would not be pilloried on the DT, but how wrong he was. I have not forgotten about him and his aphorisms...and this post is my witness.

46: The German word sein signifies both "to be there" and "to belong to Him."
Uh huh. And if I was German, perhaps everyone in my knitting club would have a great nosh about just how wild it is that the words we use often have meanings we don't intend and don't your remember the time the Romish immigrant with the laundry store down the street kept saying "business" but pronounced it "beezneez," so when she said in her broken English "Let's get down on business," my husband laughed so hard his hernia down there got so bad he had to have surgery. Of course, it I was German, that wouldn't make any sense (everything, that is).
45: The more horses you put to, the faster your progress--not of course in the removal of the cornerstone from the foundations, which is impossible, but in the tearing of the harness, and your resultant riding cheerfully off into space.
Okay, all this makes me think is that the guys who ride the Clydesdales got drunk and uppity and tried to a coup at the Budweiser brewery, which was so unexpected the entire world went *pop* and vanished except for the horses and the two inebriates. Why do I think that? Because Kafka is so deeeeeeep, man.

Ridiculous.

2.14.2007

Working Man

As part of internet research for work, I stumbled across this:

Crack kills.

Yes, it does.

2.07.2007

Yes or No?

I'm all about one-liners tonight, so I'll make this two.

You've gotta watch this. It'll make no sense (it's a deposition video), but watch it to the end regardless.

Courtesy of Prof. Brainbridge.

What on earth...

Prepare to waste time.

1.28.2007

Whoa Nelly...

Times like this, I'm glad not to be in college anymore. Sometime, I'll tell you why there are no doors on the stalls in the bathrooms in the bottom of Taper Hall. Then, I'll write a sentence that has seventeen consecutive prepositional phrases.

1.15.2007

Arachnid Addicts

It's about as funny as you'd think it would be:

Spiders on Drugs.