Let's roll some dice, watch some movies, or generally just geek out. New posts at 6:30 pm ET but only if I have something to say. Menu at the top. gsllc@chirp.enworld.org on Mastodon and @gsllc on Twitter.
Yesterday, I posted about the death of my cousin, Norma. As I continue to parse out my feelings on the matter, I decided to supplement that post with a couple of other things.
First, with respect to the Frankie Valli story, when Norma and her friend disengaged from Frankie, I told her what almost happened. She reminded me that, while she was (of course) appreciative of my concern, she wasn’t stupid. She was an adult and knew what was going on and would never have gone anywhere with the guy. She understood that I wasn’t upset with her behavior but rather concerned with his, and that leads to point number two.
Everyone fights with everyone else. Everyone gets frustrated with everyone else. This is perfectly normal, and you shouldn’t feel bad about it, even in the unfortunate instance that your anger or frustration is the last thing you experience before losing someone. What isn’t normal? Norma never once made me angry. Or frustrated. I never even surreptitiously rolled my eyes at her. She simply never annoyed me at all, and if I ever annoyed her, she never told me so. This is certainly not a testament to my character; it’s a testament to hers. Plenty of people annoy me, and plenty more are annoyed by me. I’ve never heard anyone speak poorly of anything Norma did or said. She really was someone you couldn’t help but love.
I don’t know if it’s my best memory of my cousin, Norma, but it’s the one that immediately comes to mind. Norma and a friend came to Chicago when I was in law school (1999 IIRC). We were barhopping in the Rush Street district, which was a popular weekend spot back then. Frankie Valli, a singer well-known for his small acting and large musical roles in Grease, was walking the streets, and Norma and her friend caught his eye. He was hitting on them. I was standing close by to make sure they were okay, which almost resulted in a fist fight with one of his security guards. He kept placing his hand on my chest, and I kept swatting it away. Everything worked out, though. That 60+ year old pervert didn’t get laid that night. Well, at least not by my 29/30-year old cousin. I didn’t follow him around. (EDIT: I added more to this story on tomorrow’s post.)
Last Thursday, Norma died of the same cancer that killed a handful of people in our extended family. I found out on Saturday and found her obituary at about noon today. The most difficult part of being estranged from one’s nuclear family is the loss of people who you still love. Norma was wonderful, and I loved her very much. She was only a year younger than I, but I could never imagine outliving her. I wish I could have said goodbye, not only to her but to a couple others who’ve died, but this is a consequence you sometimes must accept to keep yourself safe and sane. Leaving ties gives them a way to sneak in and do damage, and asking the ones you love to make a choice between you and the ones that harm you is not a fair thing to do. As far as I’m concerned, this is just one more thing they’ve taken from me. I’m a far happier and healthier person in general, but not today.
I took a CLE this afternoon on the intersection of what we call artificial intelligence, and in particular ChatGPT, with the law. They mentioned that the engine flatly declined to do so, presumably because Carlin dealt in offensive material. I didn’t buy it, so I logged back on and asked it to, “Explain quantum mechanics in the style of George Carlin.”
Not artificial.
The topic was just the first thing that popped into my head. The answer follows, and I have to say that it’s pretty spot on despite avoiding all profanity.
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, gather ’round, ’cause I’m about to blow your minds with some quantum mechanics. Now, let me tell you, this stuff is like a crazy trip through the Twilight Zone. It’s the weird science that’ll make your brain do somersaults and leave you scratching your head, wondering what the hell just happened.
So, picture this: the world we live in, right? It’s all about cause and effect, right? You do something, and something happens as a result. Simple, right? Well, hold on to your hats, folks, ’cause quantum mechanics says, “Not so fast, buddy!”
In the quantum world, things don’t follow the normal rules. It’s like a wild party where everything goes topsy-turvy. You got particles that can be in two places at once, and they’re dancing around like they just don’t care. They’re like, “Hey, I’m here, and I’m there, and I’m everywhere!” It’s like they’ve got some sort of quantum GPS or something.
But wait, it gets even weirder. These particles, they can be connected in this funky way called entanglement. It’s like they’re doing some sort of quantum tango. You mess with one particle, and the other one, no matter how far away, feels it too. It’s like they’re having a long-distance relationship, but without the heartache. They’re all linked up, and it’s like they’re telepathically communicating. “Hey, buddy, I’m changing over here, so you better get ready for a change too!”
And then there’s this thing called superposition. Now, this ain’t about being super and posing for pictures, folks. It’s about particles being in multiple states at once. They’re like the ultimate multitaskers. They can be spinning up and spinning down at the same time, like they’re breakdancing or something. It’s like they’re saying, “I’m up, I’m down, I’m left, I’m right. You never know where you’ll find me!”
Now, I gotta warn you, this quantum stuff can mess with your head. It’s like trying to juggle a bunch of invisible bowling balls while riding a unicycle blindfolded. But hey, that’s what makes it so damn fascinating. It’s like a cosmic riddle that keeps us scratching our heads and reaching for the stars. So, next time you’re feeling all smug about how you’ve got this whole cause-and-effect thing figured out, just remember: the quantum world is waiting to throw you a curveball. It’s the ultimate reality show, and we’re all just trying to keep up with the mind-bending madness. Thank you, and may your quantum adventures be as wild as a George Carlin rant!
I asked a couple other questions, and it was consistently good. Somehow, it still stayed clean despite me asking for the origin of the word, “fuck,” in the same style, reusing the word and its variants only when backed into a corner. Go figure. Also of note, I asked it to explain string theory in the style of Bill Cosby, and it refused.
I read it in George Carlin’s voice, and so did you.
I used to have a nervous habit of shaking my leg and can’t count the number of times people have complained about it. I recently noticed that I no longer do it and probably haven’t for years. Based on certain changes I’ve made in my life, that’s not surprising, but its absence snuck up on me; I didn’t notice that I had stopped.
Anyway, the internet read my mind (as we know it always does) and placed a Joe Rogan video in my YouTube shorts stream. The health expert being interviewed mentioned that your calf muscles use an inordinate amount of energy relative to similarly sized muscles, and as a result, you can burn a lot of calories because of that nervous tic. I did some internet research and found several articles confirming these findings. Here’s one with six ways to burn calories.
I have a multitude of posts talking about my weight loss, weight gain, gym time, etc., and now I’m forcing myself to shake my legs with the intent to burn between 50 and 400 calories a day. These numbers represent the lowest and highest estimates I could find. Keep in mind, though, that fidgeting isn’t the solution to a slim waistline. It’s like a multivitamin: It won’t give you everything you need, but as a supplement, it can fill in some missing gaps.
Because I was out of the office on my birthday taking a “continuing legal education” course, most of my coworkers didn’t get to celebrate it. So, they decided to decorate my office, which I saw today.
The first thing I noticed was my wall.
That seems normal enough. The window did as well.
Soon thereafter, as I gazed across the room, I found myself asking, “What the shit?!”
Are my coworkers in love with me?
That Post-It note is literally an apology from our receptionist for how over the top the decorations were.
Wait a second. Why all the pink?
For this next one, here’s some context. Everyone has a nameplate that I designed a couple of years ago. We printed them in black and white, so it’s black lettering and imagery on a white background. Recently, I changed mine to white lettering on a black background. It’s looks awesome, and everyone was jealous (even though I copied it from a coworker that sits at the end of the office where no one sees her nameplate). It’s sort of like going from Adam West’s Batman to Christian Bale’s Batman. Well, Patricia apparently asked, “Why don’t we screw with Rob’s nameplate. He thinks it’s great, so let’s ruin it.” (Seriously, she admitted to it.)
What the shit?
Now, anyone that knows me knows I’m not what’s commonly referred to as an alpha male. I’m kind of an asshole, so sure, I have some similarities, but I’m no alpha male as that term is commonly defined. So, why am I an “alpha attorney”? And even if I am, why is there a Hello, Kitty image beneath it. Someone’s confused (besides me).
Of course, I’m not angry. Despite recent societal trends, I remain focused on people’s intent, and in this case that was trying to be funny and nice. Why would I be angry about anything they did or might do? Still . . . .
Here’s something I haven’t done since the late 90s: Baked a cake.
The top layer is French vanilla, the bottom layer is triple chocolate fudge, and the icing is milk chocolate icing. I even did the same thing with a few cupcakes I was able to make with leftover batter. Surprisingly, the layers came out well in the cupcakes.
There might be a cupcake missing.
I don’t really celebrate my birthday, but I knew I’d have to break my diet today anyway, so I went all in. I think is shows how long it’s been since I did this . . .
Last week, I learned about Pluto Time care of VSauce. This is the time of day at which the brightness of the Sun is the brightest it ever appears on Pluto, and that equates to around sunrise and sunset. While the Sun is about 1000x dimmer on Pluto than on Earth, the Sun still brightens Pluto at noon (Pluto time) about 300x more than our Moon brightens Earth.
A couple of days ago, I posted about art history class at the University of Maryland. TL;DR: I attended that class only three days: the first day, the penultimate day, and then the last day for the final exam. None of those days provided meaningful instruction on the topic, yet I passed the final exam with complete, utter bullshit.
This won’t go over well with some elements of the interwebs, but it’s a 100% true story.
At the University of Maryland (go Terps!), no matter what your major, each student had to take two classes from each of four categories of classes in order to graduate (plus two semesters of English). For a physics major, meeting the math and science requirement was easy, but the artsy-fartsy requirements took some work. I selected Latin because I had three years of Latin in high school (easy A!), and then took <throws dart at the class catalog> art history.
I showed up to the first day of class. Then I showed up to what I thought was the final exam, but it was actually the last day of actual class. So, I had to show up one more time for the final exam, which was walking through the university’s art gallery and discussing the art. I’m pretty sure I was supposed to say something like, “This is a Victorian era painting inspired by the Bakersfield style of brush stroke” or some shit like that. All I can remember was critiquing the art from a purely subjective point of view. You know, stuff like, “Oh, it’s a great use of color,” “What fine craftsmanship,” or “I’ve done better myself.”
Craftsmanship?
That final exam was our entire grade, and I passed. I didn’t get an A, but I passed. How the hell did that happen? I completely made up everything I said. Do you think that I could have done that with, for example, calculus?
“Addition and subtraction? That’s for the plebians. We of the elite members of the society use scelpenation to calculate our sums. Let me tell you how it works. . . .”
I invented scelpenation.
Of course, I couldn’t. I’d get an F- and be beaten with reeds. Mathematics is objectively true. Just hold up two fingers with each hand and bring them together as many times as you’d like. The two pairs of fingers will always become four fingers. Sorry, but some degrees are worth more than others. Let’s face it: They just give art history degrees to anyone.
Play What You Want 