Just Plugging a Business with which I May or May Not Be Associated

These are the coolest designs I've ever seen! They blow my mind, tickle my fancy, float my boat, and rub lotion on my skin. Please sir, may I have another!

http://www.2and20apparel.com

Everything You'd Ever Want to Know About Hedge Funds (or "How I Pay the Bills")

http://nymag.com/news/features/hedgefunds/

Visual Feedback

I finally got around to uploading some pictures to Flickr.

Costa Rica set

I was going to post a set from the Rubik's Cube Party only to be foiled by Flickr. Flickr yells at me, "No! You aren't paying us, so you only get to have 200 pictures here." I was shocked, disappointed, and deeply hurt. Flickr was supposed to be the Google to my Yahoo [and yes, I know Flickr got bought up by Yahoo.] The Gmail to my Hotmail. The Blogger to my Live Journal. It was supposed to be the service the blew away the competition and didn't ask anything in return. With a rude awakening, I find that's no longer the case. Flickr wants something in return.

Okay, Flickr. You win. Here you go. A big payment in the form of my middle finger. Howdya like them apples? sigh... I guess I'll just have to wait until Google releases their own image hosting site. Until then, I'll look for an alternative. And don't you dare suggest SnapFish or EasyShare.

UPDATE 4/16/07: What do you know? Picasa has merged with Google and has a decent service now. I tried Picasa in its pre-Google infancy, and while it was a decent program, it didn't impress me enough to use it again. When I signed up with Flickr, I was a happy camper... until the above happenned. Google/Picasa now offers 1 GB of free storage (or about 4000 pics) up from some negligible amount earlier. Compare that to Flickr's 200 pics. While Picasa's interface is not as slick or comprehensive as Flickr's, it's adequate. The amount of free storage and the fact that it's all connected to my Google Account have made me a convert. Bye Flickr...

Pop-(t)art

So I was eating a pop-tart earlier this morning. I don't particularly like pop-tarts, but my company provides breakfast for the traders (in the form of cereal, granola bars, and pop-tarts,) and sometimes I'll raid their supply for a sugar dose when I start passing out at my desk in the afternoon. Now, in the cast of that imaginary, wholesome "complete breakfast" always mentioned towards the end of the cereal commercials I watched as a kid, pop-tarts must play a very minor role. They're not good for much beyond the 34 grams of sugar, but like most products at that end of the spectrum, they're specifically targeting kids. Of course, my mom wouldn't let me have much of anything of that sort when I was growing up... no sugary cereal, no soda (unless we were having pizza), a carefully rationed amount of dessert, and juice only after I'd had a glass of milk at meals (and then only 100% juice, no Hawaiian Punch or Hi-C for me.) So maybe this is a form of quiet rebellion. Although now my mom complains that I'm too skinny, so who's to blame for that? And I still got cavities as a kid, though the dentist blamed structural anomalies in my teeth, and not my diet or brushing habits, perhaps just to placate my mom.

I just realized all that rambling was completely off-topic to the post I'd intended to write. So anyway, I was eating a pop-tart earlier this morning, and I took a look at the package, which bears this logo:
I could not, for the life of me, understand why there was a goofy sketched figure emerging from the "o". Not only that , but a figure who appears to be in some sort of ecstatic altered state of mind. Is this an image of a child being born, emerging from the birth canal, pop-tart in hand, ready to conquer his childhood? Is this a sly reference to the closing of Looney Tunes where Poky Pig pops out of those concentric circles, arm raised, and says "That's all folks"? It could even be the image of a saint, who is experiencing the throes of spiritual ecstatsy acheived via a modern day toaster pastry, and is ascending to heaven, brandishing his holy relic. Hard to say really, giving how roughly-hewn the drawing is. In any case, the figure is clearly not in a normal state; he might be on acid, he might have severe mental disabilities. My best guess is that we're looking at the self-portrait of a child, drawn while eating a pop-tart, hence the sugar-fueled euphoria overdoese. A meta-self-portrait if you will, like an artist who paints a self-protrait of himself painting a self-portrait. Damn, this shit is deep.

But what kind of message does this end to kids, and their parents, for that matter? Apparently Kellog's encourages pumping kids up so full of sugar that they can no longer see straight. Instead of the picture, the package may as well come with a sugeron general's warning that reads, "CAUTION: consumption of this product may lead to epileptic seizures." These are the kids that are going to flunk art class unless they spark their creative vision with a hit of some illicit drug. What I'm trying to say, is that I have no idea what Kellog's intentions are with this addition to their logo, but it has absolutely no place on their product's packaging. Further, the dimtwit who spoke up during the weekly toaster pastry marketing meeting, displayed a picture his 4-year-old son drew, and suggested that they modify their product's logo to include the budding artist's rendition of a crack baby, ought to be flogged. And why did everyone else think this was a good idea? Honestly. They must have forgotten that they're supposed to wait 2-4 hours after sampling their prodcut to hold any meetings during which important decisions might be made.

And that, my friends, is how you write a blog post about absolutley nothing of importance or interest to anyone. The only thing it succeeds in doing, is wasting time at work. But it did so quite well, so I'm posting with pride.

Rubik's Cube Party

The successor to the 'Stache Bash goes down this Saturday, 12/2. Here's what the invitation says:

A brief glimpse at American history...

1980 - The Rubik's Cube was conceived and released to the public
1981-1982 - [Many of] You and I were conceived and released to the public

These two events have drastically altered the course of human history. Whether they did so for the better or the worse is a matter for debate. But in either case, it is a cause for celebration, which is why I'm hosting the Rubik's Cube Party.

As you know, the Rubik's cube has six sides and six corresponding colors: BLUE, GREEN, RED, ORANGE, YELLOW, AND WHITE. Unless religous obligations mandate a monochromatic wardrobe, I expect you have some clothes in these colors. You should try to wear as many items of clothing in as many different colors as possible, in effort to vaguely mimic the appearance of one side of an unsolved Rubik's cube. Your goal will be to leave the party wearing only one of the aforementioned colors, thereby solving the puzzle. To achieve this goal, you will be expected to exchange items of clothing with other guests. As with a real Rubik's cube, this is a puzzle of strategy. Negotiations (often involving alcohol) are likely to take place, along with the inevitable underhanded tactics and coercion normally practiced only by the ballsiest politicians.

Preparation for this party is comprised of three steps, which is why I'm annoucing this so far in advance. STEP 1: Assemble your outfit. Good places to start are your (or your acquaitences') closet, the Salvation Army, vintage clothing stores, K-Mart, etc. STEP 2 [optional]: Label any items of clothing which you hope to get back with your name (and if you're feeling gutsy, your number.) I will faciliate with returning clothes to their rightful owners. STEP 3: Find yourself a Rubik's cube and practice every day for 2-3 hours. This step is crucial in ensuring your success.Donations in the form of beer, liquor, and friends are encouraged. Preferably fun people. I hope to surpass the 'Stache Bash in size, level of intoxication, and legendariness. If that's not a word, it should be.

Here's what the follow-up email I wrote today says:

Hey Cubers,

A couple things... just a reminder that the madness ensues this Saturday evening. If you plan on attending, please tell me so I know how much furniture needs to be removed from my apartment to accommodate everyone.

Also, it has come to my attention that this invite has been passed around like a spliff at a Phish concert. So please use discretion from now on when inviting other people. I love you guys, but if everyone brings the cousin of his best-friend's co-worker's ex-wife, there just ain't gonna be enough space. I had no idea people would be so into this whole Rubik's idea.

If, for some odd reason, you think you're above the wearing-random-colors-and-swapping-clothes thing, and you just plan on showing up for free booze and and eye candy, be prepared for heavy derision from the participating masses.

Finally, much like the Homeland Security threat level, I am raising the status from "Welcome" to "Strongly Encouraged" for donations in the form of drinks, food or $5, especially from the cousin of your best-friend's co-worker's ex-wife. See you in your colors on Saturday.

Rich Coast, I'm Toast

A month since my last post. Bad jaggd. In my defense, I was in Costa Rica for 1/3 of that time, and I've been busy catching up at work since. I'll probably toss a few of the nicer pics up here just for archival purposes. I had a great time there, traveling from the city, to the volcano, to the rainforest, to the beach, and back again. Taking Spanish for 6 years definitely helped, although I only spoke as if I'd been studying it for 1 year. It's funny how time and studying another language will do that to you. And also interesting how one's brain can't integrate languages learned later in life, the same way that it can one's native tongue(s). If I feel up to it, I may also transcribe the entries from my journal, in which I wrote every other day or so on the trip. No promises, though. My 4-year-old-with-ADD-esque attention span has failed me in similar situations before.

Aside from that, I don't have any terribly interesting news to report. I'd rather do a bit of venting anyway. I'm 100% single now, which at first was just fantastic, but now my feelings on that are heavily influenced by my mood. And I'm placed in the awkward situation of having a shared group of friends with my ex-girlfriend. That's fine, I can be mature about it, or at least pretend to. But no matter what I tell other people, tell myself, tell her, I feel like the situation hasn't been entirely resolved. I just don't want things to get ugly. And I don't want to meet or know anything about her new boyfriend, unless it's that he sucks in every way compared to me. But she has good taste and judgement, so I don't expect that will be the case. I made a tactical error, though. I let my guard down as our relationship was disintegrating, and I got hurt. That was not supposed to happen. Lesson learned, I hope. Bitches and hos, man.

And you call yourself a man?

Looks like I've still got a few things to take of before I graduate to man status...

http://www.mcsweeneys.net/2006/9/19packman.html

Although I did kick Mechajaggd's ass all over downtown Tokyo. That pile of cybertronic junk has nothing on me. I pwned him ghetto-style. I'm from the steet, beotch.