When Philosophers Play Football

As the World Cup draws to a close, we at TMTF wonder what would happen if philosophers played football, the glorious sport known as fútbol in my country and soccer in the US.

Fortunately, this is a question answered many years ago by Monty Python, a British comedy group made up of insane, brilliant gentlemen. Their decision to put Greek and German philosophers on a football field together was nothing short of genius.

Speaking of the World Cup, I have a confession to make. I haven’t watched it. Having grown up in Ecuador, I know I should like fútbol. I admire the game, I love the passion of its fans and I enjoyed playing it as a kid, but… I don’t like watching sports. Not even fútbol can cure my aversion to athletics.

I kind of like philosophy, though.

The Man Who Annoyed God

Napoleon had been impeached before the Infinite, and his fall was decreed. He annoyed God.

~ Victor Hugo

I’ve been reading Les Misérables, which is why I haven’t posted any book reviews recently and probably won’t post any for at least another three or four years. To say Lez Miz is a long novel is a staggering understatement. The book weighs about as much as all of my other books combined, with a couple of elephants thrown in for good measure.

Having previously read an abridged edition, I’m enjoying the full version of Less Misery very much. I’m also beginning to understand why so many editions are abridged. At the moment, the gripping tale of Jean Valjean has been interrupted by about nineteen chapters describing the battle of Waterloo, which has (if I remember correctly) only the slightest bearing upon one of many supporting characters in the novel. These Waterloo chapters are mostly an excuse for Hugo to ramble about Napoleon, whom he seems to admire.

I could hardly care less about Napoleon. I want to read about Jean Valjean, dash it!

There’s even a whole chapter praising a French officer for swearing when asked to surrender. (I swear I’m not making this up.) Victor Hugo apparently decided a filthy swearword with no relevance to the main story was important enough to merit an entire freaking chapter of the novel.

However, to be fair, even these pointless Waterloo chapters have a few literary gems sparkling here and there. My favorite of these can be found above: Napoleon, that brilliant tactician and self-assured leader of men, stumbled and fell because, Hugo informs us, “He annoyed God.”

This line reduces a colossus of world history—Napoleon, whose ambition, pride and courage knew no limits—to an annoyance. It’s a matter of perspective. God in his infinite greatness looked upon mighty Napoleon and saw a fly. Waterloo, which Hugo calls not merely a battle but “the changing face of the universe,” became God’s flyswatter.

“He annoyed God.” I love this line. It thrills my geeky soul.

Please, Have a Llama

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThere are times, dear reader, when I run out of ideas for blog posts. As a cloud is consumed and vanisheth away, so my creativity evaporates. I am left destitute, desperate for some spark of inspiration, groping blindly through an impenetrable fog of fatigue and mental paralysis.

Today is such a day. I can think of nothing more to say, so please accept this photo of a llama.

 

268. Haircuts Are Evil

Like taxes, haircuts are are a necessary evil.

Every few months, I glance in the mirror and despair, for my hair needs to be cut. It’s pretty easy for me to tell when I should hit the hair salon. When my hair starts to look like Justin Beiber’s iconic (and idiotic) hair helmet, I know it needs to be cut.

I’m sometimes tempted to ignore the Beiber resemblance and let my hair keep growing, but one thought pulls me back to safety from the brink of madness.

I will never, ever have a mullet.

My hair has generally been a mess. Once, in middle school, I tried styling it with gel: a mistake that shattered my fragile self-esteem into tiny, tiny pieces. Since then, I’ve occasionally attacked my hair with a comb and left it at that.

If you tell me I need a haircut, I will glare at you with cold, bitter fury. And then I'll go get a haircut.

If you tell me I need a haircut, I will glare at you with cold, bitter fury. And then I’ll probably go get a haircut.

The problem with haircuts is that they bring scissors, razors and other sharp objects very close to my eyes, ears and other things I’d rather not have cut off or gouged out. My fears are not baseless. At least one hair stylist has drawn blood—repeatedly—giving me good reason to fear anyone who brandishes bladed implements anywhere near my face.

Are haircuts evil? Yes. I will prove it. Let us turn to Scripture, brethren, for our answers.

Most of us know the story of Samson, who let his hair grow as a symbol of devotion to God. When his hair was cut, Samson lost his divinely-given strength. He was surrounded, powerless to resist. His tormentors blinded and enslaved him. In the end, Samson ended his own life. (This is all in Judges 16.) All of this happened because Samson got a haircut. A haircut killed him!

Don’t even get me started on Absalom. He was a really bad dude. He also had his hair cut regularly. An evil man who got haircuts? Coincidence? Coincidence?!

With this vast and comprehensive wealth of Scriptural evidence, I believe I’ve proved that haircuts are evil.

(No, I’m not being serious. Please put down your Bibles and/or heavy stones before someone gets hurt.)

In the past two years, I have found one consolation to make haircuts bearable. The Tenth Doctor from Doctor Who has some sweet, sweet sideburns. Although my paltry sideburns are not worth comparing to the good Doctor’s, they’ve definitely grown on me. (Pun intended. I’m so, so sorry.) Haircuts are awful, yet they keep my sideburns neatly trimmed. Neat sideburns put me ever so slightly closer to achieving the splendor of the Tenth Doctor’s hairstyle.

Saving the universe? Bah! A negligible accomplishment compared to having such awesome hair.

THOSE SIDEBURNS.

Maybe haircuts are worth it after all.

Then again… maybe they’re not.

RiffTrax

Update: The video I originally shared was removed from YouTube, so here are a few scenes of RiffTrax poking fun at The Wizard of Oz. You’re welcome.

The good folks at RiffTrax have possibly the best job in the world. They’re paid to make fun of movies, and they’re really good at it.

RiffTrax is a company that produces, well, riff tracks: funny commentaries in which comedians riff movies. It’s the same concept as Mystery Science Theater 3000—in fact, the three regulars on RiffTrax are MST3K veterans. The founder, Mike Nelson, is a fan of both C.S. Lewis and P.G. Wodehouse, and therefore a man worthy of my utmost regard.

RiffTrax commentaries are eclectic mixes of improvised dialogue, pop culture references and general silliness. The range of RiffTrax’s humor is surprising. In one moment, they might make sophisticated quips about classic literature or film history. In the next, they might make fart noises.

RiffTrax is often witty, sometimes a little bawdy and always exuberant in its ridiculousness. I like RiffTrax. The extravagances of Hollywood should be kept in check by healthy doses of mockery. After all, as RiffTrax reminds the viewer, “Some movies have it coming.”

256. Zen and the Art of Baking Muffins

Today’s post was written by my dear dad. When he’s not being an awesome missionary or drawing pictures of monkeys, he spends a fair bit of time in the kitchen… on occasion, actually cooking. Following is a list of practical tips á la Steve Smith (of Red Green fame) compiled during my dad’s first attempt at baking zucchini muffins.

1. It’s always good to find a recipe that includes instructions as well as ingredients, unless you’re really good at culinary improvisation.

2. Whatever your temperament, stress can be avoided by removing the battery from the smoke detector before starting.

3. It saves time to search for ingredients where you’d least expect to find them first.

4. If, like myself, you hate washing muffin pans, use small cake pans instead. A muffin is a muffin, irrespective of size or shape.

5. They may look the same and share a first name, but baking powder and baking soda are not interchangeable. Also, if you end up (through no fault of your own) dumping in a whole teaspoon instead of the requisite half, you can skim most of the baking soda (or powder, as the case may be) off the top of the mix with a teaspoon. This maneuver grows steadily more complicated in direct proportion to the amount of time it takes for you to notice your mistake.

6. Throw in some raisins. That way, if your muffins turn out really gooey, you can always pass them off as bread pudding.

7. Mixing the batter by hand (i.e. with your fingers) guarantees a smooth blend, saves wear-and-tear on kitchen utensils, and makes for less washing up later. Another small economy: After dealing with the zucchini, keep the vegetable grater handy. You can use it to scrape the finished product out of the pans at the end and save yourself the trouble of messing with a spatula.

8. If your kitchen, like mine, doesn’t boast hot running water and you happen to be boiling broccoli while you bake, drain the vegetable water into the mixing bowl with a little detergent (after removing the batter, of course) for effective pre-wash, grease-removing action.

9. Some gas ovens refuse to light unless you hold the control knob down for a bit. (Contentious old buzzards, what?) Apparently, this information can be found in the “manual,” whatever that is.

10. If your oven isn’t spacious, your pans may tilt. This transforms the contents into something akin to the windswept dunes of the Sahara Desert. Caught in time, however, a judicious readjustment will return your muffin batter to the smooth, flat Death Valley it was meant to be—a strictly topographical reference, naturally.

11. Dish towels double very nicely as hot-pads as long as (a) your wife is well out of range, (b) you can take second-degree burns like a man and (c) you’ve remembered to remove the smoke-alarm battery as per Step 2.

12. Muffins in the oven can bubble like the Ugbischú Tar Pits. How cool is that?

13. If the recipe neglects to elucidate upon the precise temperature of your oven or the exact baking time, dial the knob around to about eight o’clock and then shut the blighted thing down when the finish goes from glossy to matte—I refer to the muffins, of course, not the paint on the stove.

14. If you’re out of toothpicks, a sliver from the wicker basket in the laundry room works just as well… especially if you haven’t the foggiest idea what the point of sticking it in the muffins is anyway.

15. There are very few baking errors that can’t be effectively masked by the generous application of melted butter, brown sugar and cinnamon before giving away your baked goods—or in the less fortunate cases, baked bads—to neighbors.

And remember that you’ll always have recourse to the admirable advice enshrined in the official motto of the Possum Lodge:

Quando omni flunkus moritati

When all else fails play dead

You Have to Burn the What?

Geeky Wednesday posts on this blog generally feature a song, picture, video or literary excerpt. Today’s post is a little different.

This particular Geeky Wednesday features a video game. Most games are far too long for this blog, but this one can be completed in a couple of minutes. If you don’t want to play it, that’s fine; I’ll explain in just a moment why this weird, wonderful little game is significant.

If you’ve ever played a video game, spare a few minutes of your life and give You Have to Burn the Rope a try. The game’s controls are up arrow key to jump, down arrow key to throw axes and left and right arrow keys to move left and right, respectively. (As with YouTube videos, a brief ad may play before the game begins.)

Go forth, brave reader, and burn the rope!

You Have to Burn the Rope is a joke, a critique of the video game industry or an exercise in postmodernism. I’m honestly not sure which it is.

Right from the start, the game gives the player the following facts:

  1. There’s a boss at the end of this tunnel
  2. You can’t hurt him with your weapons
  3. To kill him you have to burn the rope above

Thus the player proceeds along the tunnel and finds the game’s one and only boss, the Grinning Colossus. This towering enemy can’t be hurt by the player’s axes, leaving the player to snatch a torch from the wall and burn the rope above the boss. Burning the rope sends a chandelier crashing down upon the boss’s head… and that’s the game. You have burned the rope. The end.

As the credits roll, the player is rewarded extravagantly by this wonderful song.

“Congratulations!” exclaims the song. “You’re the hero we all wish we could be! You made it through the tunnel and grabbed that fire from the wall! You burned the rope and saved us all! Now you’re a hero! You managed to beat the whole damn game!”

The irony here is obvious. This short, easy game gives the player step-by-step instructions on how to overcome its only obstacle—heck, the game’s title gives away the only strategy needed to beat it—and then congratulates the player as though completing the game were an extreme challenge.

Since a friend of mine recommended You Have to Burn the Rope a long time ago, I’ve wondered what its developer is trying to say. Is the game an elaborate joke? Is it a protest of how modern video games are becoming too easy and rewarding players for negligible achievements? Is it a postmodern deconstruction of traditional video game design?

I don’t get it. All I know is that you have to burn the rope.

The Slenderman

Thank you, alex663 from deviantART, for making sure I never sleep again.

For as long as there have been people, there have been spooky stories. Our distant ancestors handed down frightful tales of witches, werewolves, goblins, vampires (the non-sparkly variety) and the undead. What of our time? What creepy creatures will we bequeath to generations not yet born?

Meet the Slenderman.

This photo actually looks pretty norm—HEAVEN HELP US WHAT IS THAT?!

The Slenderman (or Slender Man) first appeared on some Internet forum, eventually becoming the silent, sinister villain of a simple-yet-terrifying indie video game called Slender: The Eight Pages. Slendy’s fame spread. I even mentioned him in what I consider probably the best post on this blog.

The Slenderman is an unnaturally tall, thin man with a black suit and no face. He has shown up in many media, including an ongoing YouTube series called Marble Hornets, in which he has developed a few consistent characteristics.

Besides having some fashion sense, the Slenderman stalks people, drives them insane and occasionally murders them. Cameras and recording equipment glitch whenever the Slenderman is near. His victims experience an ailment dubbed “Slender sickness,” whose symptoms are amnesia, paranoia, aggression and a tendency to wear creepy masks.

Why is Slendy so scary? I think it has something to do with his blank face, spectral appearance and unnatural proportions. He looks almost, but not quite, human. There’s also something creepy in how he silently toys with his victims instead of killing them outright. Is he a man? A spirit? A hallucination?

One thing he is, and that’s creepy.

That said, here are some tips from a player of Slender: The Eight Pages on how to make Slendy not scary.