You Think I’m a Programming Language Geek/Whore/Sadist/Whatever?

Check out this guy talking about these guys and their Lisp to Python conversion. WTF? I don’t know what’s weirdest about this: that Lisp is still around, that anyone would write web sites in it, or that this scenario actually makes Python look good. Actually, the weirdest thing is probably how upset everyone seems to get about the whole thing.

I swear, the best thing about working on the Windows platform is not having to be an evangelist and zealot all the time. I just get my work done. With time left over to mock.

Quite Possibly the Post-Apocalyptic Psycho-Thriller You’ve Been Looking For

I’ll take any opportunity to quote from bookslut, but this interview with Paul L. Bates about his new book Imprint has some real nuggets:

Antisocial denial allows one to find all the pearls lying in the road that everyone else misses. Social denial allows one to find the string to hold those pearls together.

Ahhh… a day without mind-bending semantic metaphors is like a day without slightly-greasy solar particles.

Talk About Getting Your 50 Cent Worth!

First we had the rap-porn crossover (um, that’s a link to, you know, porn, so be careful). Now we have the rap to anatomically-correct–or is that incorrect?–anyway, anatomically modeled sex toys crossover. Sure, it’s a little creepy, but porn stars have been in this game for a while already (yeah, you really don’t want to open that one at work, and not just because it’s impossible to believe that Jenna Jameson’s anus is really that small still, if it ever was).

I used to work with this guy in Houston who had done an art project in college where he had made plaster casts of the breasts of about 30 women. We’re not talking busts here: we’re talking the cast, the impression, the negative. Here it was, five or so years later, he’s married (and swinging, but that’s a whole other story, or is it?), living in a small, two-bedroom apartment, and he’s still got all these things hanging on the wall in his home office! Not that it wasn’t cool, but now every time I read about one of these celebrity anatomical molds I think back and wonder if once in a while that guy in Houston takes one of these casts down, mixes up a batch of ballistic latex or something, and reconstitutes the forever-young chest of some chick that modeled for him in college. Now that’s creepy.