California license plate aesthetics

california_licenseplate.jpgFranklin Avenue notes that California license place numbering has incremented up to 6xxxyyy style numbers. Not necessarily a big deal itself, but there’s a greater question that has remained unanswered and it’s something that’s been nagging me for years. I’m serious here, as a Californian this irritates me to no end…

When the HELL is California going to stop using that horrid script font? That Mistral font knockoff screams “I’m a logo for a dubious 1980s Redondo Beach nightclub/cocaine front for yacht rockers and their Magnum P.I.-style red Ferrari 308s!”

How come Oregon, Nevada and Arizona can consistently have terrific looking license plates but California can’t? Even the better looking California plates, the whale, Lake Tahoe, and the new Sierra Nevada one are ruined by that awful font.

Attention California DMV! It’s time to solve this blight upon our highways. There are several metric tons of graphic designers in California who could use some work and some sort of competition is in order to finally pound a stake into that ugly script.

P.S. While you’re at it, why not offer new replicas of the classic yellow-on-black plate? (Make ’em reflective so the CHP will be happy). Nevada offers something similar with their 1982 plain blue plate replica. Nothing kills me more than seeing a classic car with a current-style license plate on it.

P.P.S. A plate redesign does not mean you can splat your state URL on it. Indiana, Pennsylvania, Nebraska, and Michigan all do it and each one looks like a civic cry for help.

Five recent animal stories

(accumulated from around the net)

1. Jessica the hippo who loves coffee.

2. The octopus archeologist who unearthed a 900-year-old treasure.

The extraordinary discovery on what was for 58-year-old Mr Kim another ‘day at the office’ began when he took his small boat out from the town of Taean, 60 miles south west of Seoul. As usual, he was hoping for a good catch of webfoot octopus, which are a delicacy in Korea.

But on this particular day, he decided to try somewhere new, a few miles south of his regular fishing spot.

Casting out a long line, he felt a familiar tug and hauled up his first octopus of the day. He was puzzled by several blue objects attached to its suckers and thought at first they were shells.

But when he examined them, he realised they were pieces of pottery. Not realising he was on the point of making an incredible discovery, he cast out his line again and again, bringing in more octopus with shards of pottery attached.

Then he brought one up with a whole plate caught on its tentacles.

3. Polar Bears vs. Submarines

In April 2003, USS Connecticut (SSN-22), a Seawolf-class submarine, surfaced through the Arctic ice and came under attack by a polar bear, which gnawed on her rudder for a while before disengaging. Submariners have seen polar bears in the past, but this is one of the few times that the bear saw the sub first, and apparently mistook it for the world’s largest chunk of bear food.

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4. Oscar The Cat

For like a harbinger of bad news, Oscar is able to discern the exact moment at which the angel of death comes to stand at their bedside. It is an unusual skill, certainly. All the more so because Oscar is just a cat.

The fluffy, two-year-old, grey and white brindled pet was adopted by the dementia unit at the home in Rhode Island and named by its residents after a famous American hot dog brand.

Yet his skills of divination are beyond question – and have even been the subject of an article in as august a publication as the New England Journal Of Medicine. To date he has predicted the deaths of 25 patients, and done so with such accuracy that he has completely won the trust of even the initially incredulous medical staff.

“This cat really seems to know when patients are about to die,” says Dr David Dosa, a geriatrician at Rhode Island hospital who also attends patients at Steere House.

We started to see something was happening about 18 months ago and at first I think we were all very sceptical. But it’s not an unusual occurrence for patients to die here, so we’ve had plenty of opportunities to witness and observe the phenomenon.”

The first signals come as early as two days beforehand, when Oscar leaves his usual favourite solitary spots under a doctor’s desk or sunbathing in the windows of an empty office and begins doing his rounds, padding round the corridors of the unit, visiting patients but never lingering.

“When somebody’s not ready to die, he leaves,” says Dr Dosa. “He doesn’t settle in their room until the day they die. Sometimes it can be as much as four hours beforehand, but he’s universally there, curled up on their bed, two hours before they take their last breath.”

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5. Man-eating badgers and GPS-equipped spy squirrels on the prowl in the middle east. (Remember what I was saying earlier about real life being stranger than the Weekly World News?)

British forces have denied rumours that they released a plague of ferocious badgers into the Iraqi city of Basra. Word spread among the populace that UK troops had introduced strange man-eating, bear-like beasts into the area to sow panic. But several of the creatures, caught and killed by local farmers, have been identified by experts as honey badgers.

The rumours spread because the animals had appeared near the British base at Basra airport.

UK military spokesman Major Mike Shearer said: “We can categorically state that we have not released man-eating badgers into the area.

and

Reportedly, some 14 implike squirrels were recently “arrested by Iranian authorities for espionage,” as the critters were apparently found to have various amounts of “spy gear from foreign agencies” on (er, in) their bodies. Some reports even mention that the animals were sporting embedded GPS sensors, but due to the high level of secrecy surrounding the capture, things are still a bit foggy. Nevertheless, Iran has apparently claimed that the “rodents were being used by Western powers in an attempt to undermine the Islamic Republic,” and while it doesn’t seem that anyone is really aware of the squirrels’ fates, it looks like sending in the animals to do a human’s dirty work isn’t as effective as it once was.

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BONUS 6. The Lake Tahoe bear cub who climbed into a 1964 Buick Skylark and chowed down on beer and a barbecue-chicken-and-jalapeño pizza.

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Weekly World News

Still my favorite double entendre headline…

Space rock virus infects the U.S.

It’s hard for me to not be pig-biting mad about the Weekly World News shutting down, but honestly I’m not surprised. Sandwiched in between traditional celebrity d’jour tabloids and more timely fake satire like The Onion or The Daily Show, the Weekly World News was as antiquated as its pop paraculture stable of mutants, psychics, fat animals, and alien paternity stories. The world is a much weirder and paranoid place now and the WWN couldn’t really keep its edge, especially after the 2004 death of editor-in-chief (and Ed Anger/Bat Boy creator) Eddie Clontz. Recent issues were about as comforting as a thirty year old catalog of model train sets or amateur radios – still appealing for, well, oddballs like me but not enough of a cult demographic to keep going.

I still want to know which candidate the greys are going to support in 2008 (otherwise I’m voting for Elvis). I can’t remember if Serena Sabak ever returned back from fighting evil in the astral plane (her valley girl sister took over her WWN column) and I think there was an important public service telling you how to determine if your prostitute is an alien.

You light the candles and I’ll get the robes… Witches rule!

I suppose I should say something about the Harry Potter finale and the alteration to the Earth’s rotation that results from moving 15 million books around, but I’m a Potter agnostic. Got nothing against the series and honestly, I’m all for anything that gets kids to read and drives fundies stir crazy.

I suppose it was only a matter of time until we learned the answer to What Would Jack Chick Do? Ladies, gentlemen, witches, warlocks, Illuminati, Discordians, Sub-Geniuses, Servants Of Cthulhu and other Enlightened Folk… Look out for “The Nervous Witch.”

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The Wit Of The Staircase

Every so often I go on a spring cleaning rampage in my RSS reader, deleting out blogs that I may have read once but have since failed the “why the heck am I reading this?” test. Two-thirds of what I have loaded in NetNewsWire are picture, mp3, pop culture archeology, or otherwise meta blogs that I just scan without actually reading in depth. Of the third left over, a couple belong to friends, a couple more are coding/Apple related but there’s also a group of blogs written by complete strangers that so just so well-written that I’m compelled to just keep reading. Someone, somewhere out there linked to a post, I toss the feed into NetNewsWire and presto, I’m another anonymous follower.

Case in point… Theresa Duncan’s blog “The Wit Of The Staircase.” Couple years back I ran across her Chelsea Hotel post, read some more (“LA and Detroit” is another good place to start) and quickly concluded “hey, this is some terrific writing.” Since then I’ve been reading her writings about perfume and various lateral epiphanies about architecture, music, Los Angeles, and random esoterica – most of which punctuated by photographs of Kate Moss. It’s all good stuff.

Of course reading what someone posts on a blog isn’t equivalent to, well, knowing someone personally. However once you’ve consumed enough words, music, and generalized creativity you may not know the person, but you think (or at least you like to think) that you understand their P.O.V. Which makes this all the more unexplainable:

Writer, filmmaker and perfume aficionado Theresa Duncan has not posted at her Venice-based blog, The Wit of the Staircase, since July 10. She gave no indication of taking a break, and now an Internet discussion forum has posted an unconfirmed report that Duncan killed herself last week in New York City, where she was making a film. From the same report, her partner of many years, artist Jeremy Blake, is missing off New York’s Rockaway Beach, where a man was seen going into the ocean Tuesday night. The news comes from Anya McCoy, a Florida perfumer who says she spoke with an ex-girlfriend of Blake. I can find no recent news reports tonight on Duncan in New York or her hometown of Detroit, so I’ll stress again that none of this is confirmed.

7 am Update: Art critic Tyler Green blogs at Modern Art Notes that Duncan committed suicide last week and that the NYPD confirmed Blake is missing.

9:30 am: I’m told there is a funeral for Theresa Duncan tomorrow in the Detroit area. And Kate Coe, who knew her, talks about Duncan at Fishbowl LA.

The Wit of the Staircase marked its second anniversary on July 4. A personal favorite of mine, Duncan’s blog interests ran to literary allusions, Kate Moss, perfume and possibly apocryphal moonlit debaucheries of the Los Angeles Lunar Society. In her 20s she created the video games “Chop Suey,” “Smarty” and “Zero Zero.” With Blake she produced The History of Glamour, an animated mockumentary about an art scene similar to Andy Warhol’s Factory. I have never met Duncan, but always figured I would someday. Blake’s paintings and video art have been shown all over the place, and he created the abstract hallucination scenes in Punch Drunk Love.

When confronted with something like that you can’t help but wonder at how things could go so terribly awry. There’s no clues in the blog, only a small community of other shocked readers. I wonder if there’s any irony in her blog’s title…

From the French phrase ‘esprit d’escalier,’ literally, it means ‘the wit of the staircase’, and usually refers to the perfect witty response you think up after the conversation or argument is ended. “Esprit d’escalier,” she replied. “Esprit d’escalier. The answer you cannot make, the pattern you cannot complete till aterwards it suddenly comes to you when it is too late.”

R.I.P.

Dear Larchmont Village

I admire your tenacity at remaining relatively unchanged for more than a decade but lately I’ve noticed some fraying around the edges of your social fabric. Your village has accumulating a lot of village idiots and it’s time to flush them out and enroll everyone in some remedial etiquette. Consider this some tough love.

If you are in a car:

  1. The universal sign for “I’m waiting for a parking space” is to turn on your right-hand turn signal. You may only do this if you see someone who is visibly getting into their car with an intent to vacate the parking space. Do not stop on Larchmont in the hopes that someone *may* vacate a space.
  2. If you are behind someone who is waiting for a parking space to become available you may not a) use your horn unless a suitable length of time has passed. b) pass the car in front of you by veering suddenly into the left-turn lane and accelerating profoundly.
  3. Parking spaces are defined as, well, parking spaces. Stopping your car in the middle of Larchmont Blvd. while you “dash” in for your coffee does not qualify as legally parking your car. If anything, this qualifies you to have your car crushed and melted – even if (or especially if) there are still passengers inside.
  4. Remember, even if you are parking you still have to follow the rules of the road. You may not disregard stop signs, turn signals, and randomly walking pedestrians even if there is an empty parking space ahead.

Exceptions to 1, 2, 3, and 4: if anybody (and I do mean anybody) is on a mobile phone, you are free (if not obliged) to open fire. However, I believe Miss Manners suggests firing a warning shot over the miscreant’s head first.

And if you are a pedestrian:

  1. Although you might prefer to think of Larchmont as a sleepy little village it is still in the middle of Los Angeles – a very busy city! If you are in a group of three or more people, please do not walk in tandem across the sidewalk if there are other people attempting to pass. If you are piloting a SUV-sized baby stroller barge, the maximum limit is one across.
  2. Driving an oversized baby stroller does not give you an automatic free pass to cut in line, stand in the middle of doorways, or otherwise be a road hog.
  3. If you are crossing Larchmont Blvd. please use the crosswalks… Nah, screw that. Just use some common goddamn sense. If you run out directly in front of a driver, sure they are legally required to stop, but you’re also running 2-1 odds of causing a rear-end collision between circling parkers who aren’t paying attention to anything other than parking.
  4. If you are crossing Larchmont Blvd., please cross the street! Do not stop in the middle of the street to talk to your friends, talk on your phone, etc.

Thanks everyone! It is my hope that with these suggestions we can all cooperate and make our difficult lives a little bit easier. Otherwise, may the forces of the Great American Corporate Leviathan mow every single inch of your “village” down in its tracks and sow the ground with radioactive salt. I’ll miss Sam’s Bagels, but if it’s going to continue to be such a pain in the neck to deal with Larchmont Village I can handle scratching it off the map.

P.S. To the two douchebag guys and one douchebag girl who felt the need to become a slow-walking roadblock on the sidewalk: OK, sure… I’m vaguely irritated at having to walk into the street to pass you guys even after I attempted to excuse myself through, but did you really have to offer up a stream of “some people” and “what’s your hurry?” criticism? It’s very high schoolish and not age appropriate for folks like you who are in your early 30s. I have to admit that I was initially thrown because you guys were still clinging to your Part Time Punks tote bag, your dubious hipster haircut, and your loud self-assumed intellectual broheim critique of Z Pizza as being “too California.” Guys, you are in California but even we managed to get rid of the pink polo shirt and white jeans combination some time ago. It’s just embarrassing now and not at all ironic. Actually on second thought, please just go die now. k thx bye.

Sheesh, I feel like some sort of emo blogger. Oh wait a sec…