Marco McClean's Comments
It's right-side-up. House on a lake with a short or foreshortened dock.
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There used to be a show on teevee where a man invited people who had problems to come to the set. He chatted briefly with them, drew out their story, and asked the viewing audience for money to help them. My grandparents loved that show. My grandmother said of the host, "What a wonderful man." In one episode, a small man with an Italian accent was a carpet-layer, and he'd had an accident that cost him one of his big toes. He explained himself, talked a little bit about how he missed so much work healing up (it wasn't just the toe; there was more damage), and there were bills and expenses, and he had a family to support, and he went back to work, but... He was shy and ashamed and trailed off. There was a pause. The host said gently, "I don't think people realize how much we all need that particular toe for balance. Missing your big toe must make it hard for you to work with carpets." "Oh, yes," the man said. "It's very hard. People /don't/ realize." The host said, "Well, I'm sure plenty of viewers out there have been moved by your trouble and will be happy to help out." He turned to the camera and said, "Won't you, folks?" This whole time, the station's telephone number was in the frame, on a cardboard sign on an easel. They cut to three or four commercials, and when they came back on, the host had been given a note that had the total amount of money people had called and pledged to give to help the man. I don't remember how much it was; it might have been fifty, it might have been five hundred, and it wasn't for the station, it wasn't like a pledge drive, it was for the man. The host shook the man's hand, sent him limping away, and a woman came on to talk about /her/ problem. It was a half-hour show. It was on every day. That was broadcast teevee, live and simple and perfect, available all over Los Angeles. I haven't thought about that for years, but the tone and value of that show is probably what made me want to do radio and make teevee shows in the first place... So, to answer you: any two toes but the big toes. I need those for balance; we all do. Maybe the two little ones on the outside, one from each foot. Tell your friend, take it or leave it.
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Oh, yes, thanks for asking, but I'd trade it and two toes for the aquablue Talbot-Lago, if you know someone who can set that up.
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In 1981 I bought a 1963 Rambler Classic for either $200 or $400. I paid the Earl Sheib on Arden Way $59.99 to paint it the turquoise-green-aqua-blue that the far right side of the rectangle above calls /blue/. That was the most beautiful car I ever had, but not the coolest-looking, which would be the car I have now: a 2004 Prius, original silver-gray everywhere but primer-black front fenders and bumper from CarParts.com. It looks like a little spaceship. It looks like a genius high-school kid's science-fiction car that he bought from the neighbor for in trade for mowing the lawn, built flight into and experiments with it in the desert, being spied on by the CIA with binoculars, from a mountain, where they're about to make the bad decision to go down and capture him, triggering his casual /bye, fellas!/ literal flight to a secret cavern stocked with food and water and further experiments; he suspected the spying and planned for this. It looks like a plucky underdog robot Mexican race car. But imagine a turquoise-green-aqua-blue 1937 Talbot-Lago T-150 teardrop coupe, converted to electric. That wouldn't have to fly. It would win in all the art and design and coolness categories, with or without a winged chrome eyeball for a hood ornament.
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Turquoise blue and primer gray. Those are the colors of the car-lot pennants of my people.
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For me, it's /cheers/ at the end of a comment or opinion post. I just hate it. Logically it can't always be childish and sneery and wannabe bullying, but that's the way it sounds in my head.
Also, it bugs me when a writer, and usually this is a fellow old person, leaves out the word /I/ at the beginning of a paragraph. As in, "Went to the store for milk," or "Took a stroll past the eyesore in question," or "Never heard of such a thing!" or "Will check it out." Not "We'll check it out," which would be fine, even the royal /we/. But "Will check it out." Ugh.
Also, it bugs me when a writer, and usually this is a fellow old person, leaves out the word /I/ at the beginning of a paragraph. As in, "Went to the store for milk," or "Took a stroll past the eyesore in question," or "Never heard of such a thing!" or "Will check it out." Not "We'll check it out," which would be fine, even the royal /we/. But "Will check it out." Ugh.
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Marjorie Taylor Greene.
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People who use their powers to enrich themselves are not superheroes but supervillains. The writer mentioned /Heroes/ but seems to have missed a major point made there, where Hiro grasps this principle. Hiro's use of his power to control time to gain money, not to do good but simply for money's sake, results in a frightening lesson, which he learns. He won't do it again.
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And that's good old-fashioned English Rogering.
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The liver excretes bile. If you've got little livers all over the place, where does the bile that comes out of them go? Back into the blood the liver filtered the toxins out of in the first place?
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In /Demolition Man/ it's knitting.
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Of /course/ a clairvoyant or spoon-bender or spirit medium or faith healer or astrologist or time-traveler feels a test is unfair by being designed to make it impossible for him to cheat. If there's truth to a claim, then it will survive magic-trick-exposing testing. And I say this as a huge fan of charismatic bullshit artists. Maybe they're crazy, maybe they're not, maybe they're fooling even themselves, but they're entertaining, and that's okay. Until their magic power is unambiguously validated by real testing, entertainment is all it is.
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NAH-vuh-duh. Guh-LAH. Ree-NAY-s'nss. VEH-jun. Kuh-REEB-yun. Too-nih-SEE-uh. Feng-SHOO-ee.
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Can't the mystery mass be the "mass" of all the light going between everything that ever generated light and everywhere the light is all still on its way to? If all those photons since the beginning, that are still out there, or are freshly out there, having not collided with anything yet, were condensed into matter, would its mass equal the amount they're saying the dark matter must be? And it would make sense that it seems associated with galaxies, which are fresh sources of light.
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An osprey virtuoso, inspired by his own clacking beak/ Ensorcelled an auroch (sic) and compelled him to speak./ He talked all that night, and some the next day,/ Then he smashed that bad bird and he went on his way.