Phlogiston

I woke up this morning groggy and slightly hungover, switched on the interweb and the first thing I read is that Iyari Limon has a new girlfriend. <pause class="penny-drops"/> WTF? A girlfriend? Girlfriend? <vader>Nooooooooooooo</vader>. She can’t be. She’s meant to be going out with me. Me I tell ya, ME. <sob/>

A better man than myself would probably want to wish her all the best.

My friend James, a newspaper man of the Walter Burns variety (think Walter Matthau, not Cary Grant), is always sternly telling me how the Internet, blogs, RSS feeds and the modern world in general are killing newspapers, and when they’re dead and gone we’ll all be sorry because there will be no more editors, lawyers, and large corporations checking that their greedy, vested, corporate interests will be respected facts are straight, and there will be no more investigative journalism, breaking stories (more commonly known as sifting through celebrities’ bin bags), or reliable sources of information (because everything on the internet was just, you know, made up).

Well it seems that he may not have been overstating his case. On Saturday (otherwise known as April Fools’ Day), the fairly well-known movie news site JoBlo posted an April Fools’ joke that Kate Beckinsale had been cast as Wonder Woman in the forthcoming Joss Whedon movie. Now there were certain tell-tale signs that the story was a joke (not least that Whedonites, the most terrifying fandom on the planet, would have burnt cinemas to the ground before watching Kate Beckinsale butchering Whedon’s dialogue): such as quoting Whedon—a well-known feminist—talking about actresses offering to “blow him” for the part, or that Beckinsale was obviously going to have to have a “boob job”. But perhaps the biggest give away was the article ending thusly:

Whedon […] said that he would even take part in the site’s annual April Fool’s Day gag this year, which was a nice thing of him to do, especially since that’s what you’ve been reading this entire article. That’s right, every word is untrue, folks … gotta love the Internet!

Now I’m the first to admit that it wasn’t the funniest April Fools’ joke I’ve ever seen. But it was fairly obvious to anyone with half a brain that that’s what it was. But that didn’t stop those geniuses at World Entertainment News Network carrying the story as fact. One of the most notable subscribers of WENN’s news feed is The Internet Movie Database who carried the story, and from there on hundreds if not thousands of sites carried the story too, either directly from WENN or via IMDb. And like Chinese whispers, as the story was reprinted it became more and more detached from any semblance of truth and factuality. For example, InTheNews.co.uk printed this:

English beauty Kate Beckinsale is said to be fronting the race to be appointed the lead actress in the new Wonder Woman flick.

Director Joss Whedon and co-writer William M Marston, director of the 1976 original, are believed to have been impressed after meeting the British babe and could be about to offer her the role.

Beckinsale, star of Van Helsing and Underworld, has also recently reaffirmed her desire to land the part in the upcoming comic book movie.

“I want Wonder Woman right now,” she said. “I’m not holding my breath, but I’m crossing my fingers and toes and praying.”

As Simon on Whedonesque pointed out, William Marston (the original creator of Wonder Woman) died in 1947, so I don’t think he was directing much in 1976, and certainly wasn’t going to be having much of a say in the casting of the new movie, and the quote about “crossing my fingers and toes and praying” was actually said by Charisma Carpenter.

So, this is a sorry state of affairs. But the Internet giveth and the Internet taketh away. Just as sites were regurgitating this without bothering to check any original sources, and in some cases adding a few extra falsehoods of their own, those brave souls at Whedonesque charged in with the sword of truthiness, and JoBlo issued a statement. Meanwhile, the story continues to be reprinted around the Internet. And, only a day late, quick on the uptake as ever, has finally made it’s way into the UK press, still equally devoid of fact. Congratulations, The Sun! (What was that you were saying about newspapers vs. the Internet, James?)

Courtesy of Shaun McCance’s blog, it’s The Easter Bunny from Hell. I must try and use that picture for Easter cards for all the children I know.

Well, okay, I haven’t actually been anywhere, but I am blogging again. So, it’s hello from me, and it’s hello from WordPress 2.0. Anyway, shame on me for not blogging for so long, but I have been vey busy. I kept meaning to blog, and in fact had a special folder of bookmarks of links I was going to blog about, and half a dozen half-written draft posts. That was what ended up being the problem. Everytime I thought I’d blog something, I saw the huge back-log and was paralysed into inaction. The solution? Simple! I deleted the folder of bookmarks and all but two of the half-written posts and lo-and-behold I am up-to-date!

News? Well the only really important piece of news is that there is a good chance I will be relocating to Cambridge in the near future and working for RE5ULT on a permanent basis. Nothing is final yet, but it seems like the right move if all the pieces fall together.

President Bush was at a meeting yesterday when one of his advisors told him that a Brazilian soldier had been killed in Iraq.

“OH NO!” he shouted, “That’s terrible!”

A silence fell over the room while everyone looked at him.

Bush looked back up the advisor with tears in his eyes and said “Just how many is a Brazilian?”

(Courtesy of Ben Maurer.)

I spent the weekend in the Lake District celebrating the wedding on Saturday of Jon and Lizzie. Well done, you two. I’ll link later to wedding photos as and when they become available. Despite my views on the countryside (raze buildings, burn crops, plough the soil with salt, sell the population into bondage, etc.) I did reluctantly pursue “outdoor activities” on Sunday morning, and it transpires that I have a heretofore unknown talent in shooting things (don’t worry, only inanimate objects such as clay pigeons and targets were harmed in the making of this post). It must be all that Doom 3 I’ve played.

Ship of Fools ran a survey for the best and the worst religious (Christian, really) jokes. Read the 10 funniest and 10 most offensive.

As I blogged previously, The Secret Of Eel Island, stars my niece Elysia Lukoszevieze. It’s being shown again, starting Saturday 17th September at 9:35am on Five.

Elysia as Sapphire

Well, this is a bit of a change in pace from my usual geeky ramblings, but this article—Rotterdam Architecture Biennale Review—was pointed out to me (by the author, no less) and I found it really interesting. The theme of the biennale was how water had played a role (and could go on to) in the architecture and civil engineering traditions of Holland, and of other countries and cities around the world. This should appeal to architecture geeks (Jonathan! Pay attention, I’m talking about you) and the actual architects (Hi Stephanie!) out there.

I grew up in Berkshire and London, and the Thames has always had a significance for me. (Maybe that’s something that draws me to Eliot.) It’s always seemed exceedingly odd to me that Edinburgh doesn’t have a river running through the middle of it. I know there is the sea, and the docks at Leith, but the absence of a river is heightened by the fact that there is a volcanic ravine exactly where a river ought to be, and it’s still somehow startling to me to look down and see a railway line there instead.

There’s been a whole bunch of hoo-ha in the UK press over the last few days regarding an article in France’s Libération proclaiming the supposed superiority of the French woman. In what sounds disturbingly like how one would rate a breed of cattle or sheep, they apparently work harder and are more fertile. Fertile? Bloody hell. We’re not talking about prize bulls here. That aside, there is a common notion that French woman are, just, well, superior: more chic, more beautiful, and perfect at juggling career with domestic goddesshood. This article in The Independent debates the issue. Unsurprisingly the “Oui” camp is championed by a man, and the “Non” camp by a (British) woman. Having just returned from my second recent trip to Paris I have a pretty clear idea of where I stand in the debate, but for diplomacy’s sake I think I will remain quiet.

Those of you like me who get regular slightly comical and incredibly annoying emails claiming to be from someone wishing to dispose of the remaining fortune of some dead African despot via your bank account, if only you would be so kind as to give them all your banking details, may be pleased to read that Nigeria does seem to be successfully prosecuting the worst of the offenders.

Robert Love is providing commentary on the sporting event of the year: Tour de Nat.

Every generation has its heroes. Men and women of selfless valor, pure heart, true intention. Motivated by altruism and justice, guided by faith, these men and women are our leaders, our inspiration, and our hope for a better tomorrow.

And then there are some men who just want to prove other men wrong.

The Tour de Nat is more than a 120 mile one-man race from posh Comm Ave in Boston to the rustic tip of Cape Cod. It is the melding of man and machine, one man’s quest to find himself and prove that nay-saying bastard wrong. It is also a little bit retarded and entirely unnecessary.

Last Friday I went to Paris with Chris to visit Jonathan. Spent a glorious four days hanging out, eating, drinking, basking in the sunshine, joined on a couple of evenings by Patrick. There were so many good things, but Sunday afternoon in the Marais was probably the highlight. Sigh. I really want to be living in Paris by next year.

Reported in The Guardian: Man used electric underpants ‘to fake heart attack’.

A judge yesterday threw out a claim by a man who, the court heard, used “electric underpants” to give himself fake heart attack symptoms.

Marcus Danquah, 41, of Kirton Lindsey, Lincolnshire, had sought up to £300,000 in damages after claiming that a wrongly wired £34.50 Morphy Richards 42400 Comfi Grip iron gave him a heart attack.

But the company alleged that he had wired the iron so that it became live and would give an electric shock to anyone who touched it. It also claims that he used the “amps-in-his pants” device in his underwear to create false reading on a hospital heart monitor.

Do you think he might be related to the Welsh lady shopper I blogged about earlier?

On the day after one on which we focused on those starving to death in Africa, it seems timely to think of poor Gina Gough: “I ate 15 bags of crisps a day for three years. I was addicted and it nearly killed me.”

When Gina Gough was rushed into hospital in agony, with severe abdominal pains and jaundice, doctors initially suspected hepatitis and put her to an isolation ward.

In fact, the 22-year-old’s condition was the result of a three-year diet that consisted almost entirely of crisps. She was eating up to 15 bags a day and went into hospital weighing 14st.

Apparently she had little idea that “anything this bad” might be the consequence of such a naturally healthy diet.

Saturday’s Daily Telegraph has a nice article about RE5ULT: Everything you always wanted to know by text… and an answer in seconds (requires free registration).

Pay attention ladies: Nerds make better lovers. Now, if you could please form an orderly queue …

I just came across this on Hannah Wallach’s blog—this is an excerpt from a federally-funded, abstinence-only program being taught in US high schools:

Deep inside every man is a knight in shining armor, ready to rescue a maiden and slay a dragon. When a man feels trusted, he is free to be the strong, protecting man he longs to be.

Imagine a knight traveling through the countryside. He hears a princess in distress and rushes gallantly to slay the dragon. The princess calls out, “I think this noose will work better!” and throws him a rope. As she tells him how to use the noose, the knight obliges her and kills the dragon. Everyone is happy, except the knight, who doesn’t feel like a hero. He is depressed and feels unsure of himself. He would have preferred to use his own sword.

The knight goes on another trip. The princess reminds him to take the noose. The knight hears another maiden in distress. He remembers how he used to feel before he met the princess; with a surge of confidence, he slays the dragon with his sword. All the townspeople rejoice, and the knight is a hero. He never returned to the princess. Instead, he lived happily ever after in the village, and eventually married the maiden—but only after making sure she knew nothing about nooses.

Moral of the story: Occasional assistance may be alright, but too much will lessen a man’s confidence or even turn him away from his princess.

Huh? Apparently this isn’t supposed to be directly about abstinence (in case you were being misled by those cunning sword metaphors) but more about how girls can “keep their man”. Unbelievable.