Category: words mean things (Page 169 of 223)

I was having a conversation recently with Dan Benjamin of When I Am King about the Commodore 64. We both owned these computers, and I think we both looked back fondly on them. For me, it’s my favorite old computer I’ve owned. It had good graphics, great sound, played fun games and even did boring stuff like word processing – I typed all my college papers on mine (shows how old I am), when all my friends were struggling with typewriters in their dorm rooms. And the C64 did all this with 64K (yes, K) of RAM. Are you listening, Bill?

I wonder if anyone else who reads this had one of these gems. I’ve even tried several C64 PC emulators, but they tend to crash my already unstable Win98 system. I do this because of my obsessive love for Jumpman, one of the most fun computer games ever.

UPDATE: You can download a PC port of Jumpman, called Jumpman Lives! It’s fun.

As usual, yes, I will be seeking treatment. Thanks for your concern.

Call me Celestia

She could heal people. She spoke with the dead and with God, in a language only she and God understood. (Although we got a little taste of it, thanks to Barbara Walters’ prying.) She had an alternate personality named “Celestia” who lived “in the Fourth Dimension.” She was waiting for a spaceship from her home planet to bring her home. She had “the best sex of her life” with Ellen Degeneres, on the night they met, her first lesbian experience. She maintains she was molested continuously from infancy to age 12 at the hands of her closeted gay father, who died of AIDS in 1983. She was “insane” for 31 years. Then, suddenly, after wandering into a stranger’s home in Fresno while on Ecstasy last year, she was magically healed of all her mental and emotional problems. And voila, she marries the cameraman who filmed the documentary she made on then-lover Degeneres. Plus, now she’s pregnant!

Oh my sweet lord.

Translation: Her relationship with Degeneres was totally opportunistic. When it didn’t go the way she hoped, she was depressed and wandered off, high on Ecstasy. In order to explain her off-the-wall behavior and bring the spotlight back to her, we get the Celestia Defense. And far be it for me to question her abuse claims, but I’d love to know the statistics on how many closeted gay men sexually abuse their daughters. Anyway, he’s been dead for years and can’t speak for himself. (Nice B-roll footage of a gay disco, with writhing men in tank tops, when her father was mentioned. Classy.)

I guess I have nothing to criticize about this interview, considering that I watched it, taped it, and even made a video collage of it. But it’s this sort of thing that makes me think we should just nuke the whole society and start again. Anyone want to scope out bunkers with me?

New consumer product addiction: Edy’s Whole Fruit Lemon Sorbet

Still reeling from the Anne Heche interview on 20/20 tonight. Will post more later (I’m sure you’re on the edge of your seat), but first up, Xkot’s Cliffs Notes for the interview, in case you need the executive summary:

“My dad was gay and my mom hung up on me, and it made me crazy.”

Well put, Xkot.

Inspired by Arthur, I’ve added some new photos to the photo page. Some are new, others are from other parts of the main site you might not have seen, and others I’ve posted in the body of words mean things in the past. In traditional weblog style, all the new pics are at the top of the page. Hope you enjoy them.

Arthur has thought up a cool online photo Treasure Hunt game. Why not give it a try? I can’t wait to play, but do you know how hard it is to find a squirt gun after Labor Day? Go there now! (© miguel)

The movie wasn’t that good, was it?

“I spoke a different language that God and I spoke together,” Heche said. “I could see into the future. I could heal people. I did (the 1997 film) ‘Wag the Dog.’ ”

After the movie, The Final Chapter:

I went to see “Edward Scissorhands” with a colleague from the paper in Michigan. We came out of the theater, and I was enthralled. What an amazing fairy tale Tim Burton had told. If you’ve seen the movie, you know that at the end, Edward is carving giant ice sculptures, and the ice shavings are falling upon the town below as snow. Wonderful image.

So I come out of the theater with a big smile on my face. My friend turns to me and says, “So where did he get those big blocks of ice? How did he pay for them? Did someone deliver them?”

My jaw hit the ground. “Well, let me ask you this,” I said, incredulous. “How did he get scissors for hands? What movie were you watching?”

After the movie, Part IV:

I sat through “The Piano” reluctantly, squirming throughout the whole pseudo-feminist crapfest. When Holly Hunter threw her mute self into the sea, I groaned, hoping she would remain there – but, sadly, she survived. (And I love Holly Hunter in just about everything else.) My friends Kristin and Paul could obviously tell how much I hated the movie by my reactions during it, but that didn’t stop Kristin from asking me brightly what I thought, as we waded through a crowd waiting for the next show. I exploded with rage against the whole experience, which was clearly not appropriate behavior. But I think Haidi can back me up on my understandable reaction.

I don’t much like Bill Maher of Politically Incorrect; I think he’s a blowhard who eclipses his guests’ attempts at conversation, rather than facilitates them. But he does have the courage of his convictions, which I admire. And he made a good point on last night’s show: the public are a lot more interested in finding out details of Gary Condit’s affair with Chandra Levy than they are with finding out what happened to her. Another in the unending series of examples of how Americans need to re-examine their priorities, if you ask me.