Skip to main content

say your prayers every night before bed


Our spaghetti
Who art in the colander
Hallowed be thy sauce
Thy serving come
Thy strands be wrung
On forks as they are on spoons
Give us this day our daily meatball
And forgive us our starchiness
As we forgive those who are starchy against us
And lead us not into Kraft parmessan
But deliver us from Chef Boy Ardee
For thine is the garlic
And the onion and the bay leaves
For ever and ever.
Ramen

thanks to james for that one

**for those of you who are unaware, last night's round of elections dealt a serious blow to the campaign to teach the theories of the flying spaghetti monster's creation of the world in american public schools. voters in pittsburgh defeated their school board, who wanted to force teachers to include the theory of intelligent design as an option equivalent to evolution and replaced them with candidates who do not favour its inclusion in school curriculum.

Comments

I suppose, given your vehement, sarcastic dismissal of 'intelligent design' (whatever that is, I don't read the news), that you have a counter theory for how the world comes to be? I'm interested to hear.

-best,
nic.
flora_mundi said…
my problem with teaching intelligent design (in a nutshell, the theory that the universe is too complicated to have evolved from a random series of events and shows the hallmarks of the interference of a larger intelligent presence as the designer) being taught as equivalent to the theory of evolution is twofold:

1. it is presented as a scientific equivalent- the science behind it is pretty specious

2. it misses the spiritual point- believing in creationism should not involve the need to prove it as science. having faith in something means that you believe it because you feel it is true without empirical proof.
qed said…
I got that one via some other blog, I didn't write it myself - might want to clear that up. -J.
The funny thing is that whenever I hear about "intelligent design" I keep thinking of space aliens, not some godhead...

I guess I just want to believe.

as long as you're here, why not read more?

wrong turn

as some of you are aware, i have a long-term project building a family tree. this has led me to some really interesting discoveries, like the fact that i am partly descended from crazy cat people, including the patron saint of crazy cat ladies, that a progenitor of mine once defeated a french naval assault with an army of scarecrows, that my well-established scottish roots are just as much norwegian as scottish, and that a relative of mine from the early middle ages let one rip with such ferocity that that's basically all he's remembered for. but this week, while i was in the midst of adding some newly obtained information, i found that some of my previous research had gone in an unexpected direction: the wrong one.

where possible, i try to track down stories of my better-known relatives and in doing so this week, i realised that i couldn't connect one of my greatĖ£ grandfathers to his son through any outside sources. what's worse that i found numerous sources that con…

dj kali & mr. dna @ casa del popolo post-punk night

last night was a blast! a big thank you to dj tyg for letting us guest star on her monthly night, because we had a great time. my set was a little more reminiscent of the sets that i used to do at katacombes [i.e., less prone to strange meanderings than what you normally hear at the caustic lounge]. i actually invited someone to the night with the promise "don't worry, it'll be normal". which also gives you an idea of what to expect at the caustic lounge. behold my marketing genius.

mr. dna started off putting the "punk" into the night [which i think technically means i was responsible for the post, which doesn't sound quite so exciting]. i'd say that he definitely had the edge in the bouncy energy department.

many thanks to those who stopped in throughout the night to share in the tunes, the booze and the remarkably tasty nachos and a special thank you to the ska boss who stuck it out until the end of the night and gave our weary bones a ride home…

eat the cup 2018, part seven :: oh, lionheart

it all seemed so magical: england's fresh-faced youngsters marching all the way through to a semi-final for the first time since 1990. everywhere, the delirious chants of "it's coming home". and then, deep into added time, the sad realization: it's not coming home. oh england, my lionheart.

now, if we're being really strict about things, my scottish ancestors would probably disown me for supporting England, because those are the bastards who drove them off their land and sent them packing to this country that's too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter. and indeed, shops in scotland have sold through their entire stock of croatian jerseys, as the natives rallied behind england's opponents in the semi-final. however, a few generations before they were starved and hounded from the lands they'd occupied for centuries, my particular brand of scottish ancestors would have encouraged me to support england [assuming that national football had even…