Brickback Mountain

LEGO has come a long way. In fact, LEGO celebrated it's 50th Anniversary this week. Granted in terms of scale, considering their non-biodegradable lifespan is probably somewhere between that of a mountain and a sun, 50 years hardly seems significant. Well significant or not, the toy of the century is all about fitting in (pun as well as parentheses intended) as graphically illustrated by the photo borrowed from The Brick Testament-- which I might add hosts an array of Biblical LEGO tableaus ranging from the mildly absurd to the seriously disturbing. I digress.

LEGO is about fitting in. For example, 2 8-stud (yes, stud) bricks can be snapped together in 24 different ways. Add one more brick to the mix and you're looking at 1,060 configurations. This is more than enough to illustrate an entirely G-rated LEGO Sutra.

Fitting in also suggests playing well with others. When we see how in a single year, children around the world log an average of 5 billion hours playing with LEGO, I would say that they're on the mark. In fact, the name, LEGO is taken from the Danish "leg godt" which translates to "play well." And play well they do!

That is until they take over the world. I'm not talking about quantities in spite of the fact that 52 to 1 is a frightening LEGO to human birth rate-- statistics on LEGO deaths and dismemberments however remain elusive. I'm talking robots. So, call me an alarmist. LEGO Mindstorms is a robotics kit from LEGO. Add a computer to program your various servos motors and sensors and you've got an instant snap together automaton.

This calls to mind images of brightly colored snap together robots building other brightly colored snap together robots. You can see where this is going. Since we program our toys to "play well" they will be inclined to imitate us. We'll clap and laugh with glee until they replace all of our food crops with LEGO imitations. It starts innocently enough with a blurb on Fox News about a little girl's LEGObot replacing her recently departed goldfish with an inert brick one. Before you know it, people are disappearing and being replaced with LEGO simulacrums (NO! Not simulacrums! YES! Simulacrums!). When you play well and are brightly colored, world domination hardly seems beyond reach.

Most sci-fi scenarios have military robots going Terminator and rebelling against humanity. I however think it will be toys. Programmed to love. Incessantly. Making everything better. Everything. Like it or not. Purgatory can be built one 8-studded brightly colored brick at a time until before you know it we're all "living" on a Dante-esque 7 story LEGO mountain.

Postlude: I know it's ridiculous. I love LEGO. If you want to know more about where LEGO bricks come from check out THIS LINK.

random not James quote of the week

I don't know why... but I don't have as many affinities with chinchillas as I do with guinea pigs.

This Spud's for You!

In 1945, the United Nations, replaced the League of Nations as the dominant international organization dedicated to promoting human rights, international law, economic development and a generally peaceful spirit of cooperation. Apparently, they were also established to extol the virtues of the potato.

2008-- apart from being a Leap Year and a pivotal, if not an historical (yes, an), Election Year- is, according to the UN, IYP. WTF is IYP? Why, International Year of the Potato, of course! You mean you didn't know???

Portrait of an Unknown Potato

The website for potato2008.org has loads to offer every level of potato afficianado from the casual fancier to the obsessed botanist. From the "you want fries with that?" to the professional agrarian. It is no less than a book of love dedicated in to the queen of the garden.

So, I leave you with this thought from beloved television personality and humanitarian, Oprah Winfrey...

My idea of heaven is a great big baked potato and someone to share it with.

Now, if that doesn't capture the spirit of IYP, I don't know what does!

Beaver Fever

It's so not what you think. It's Thursday and I woke up with a song in my head. I believe these facts to be unrelated. For those of you living in doubt of a Higher Power, let me restore your faith-- it's not the song from Small World. Oddly enough, however, what it is IS is the theme song from Nickelodeon's, "Angry Beavers." It is.

For those of you unfamiliar with the grooviest brothers beavoir, Dag and Norbit are, in short, beavers. While they never seem particularly angry, they are perpetually bickering and competing and engaging in endless silliness.

How did I happen upon this alleged children's program? Funny you should ask. Once upon a time, I lived for a spell in Lafayette, Louisiana. One Saturday afternoon, the phone rang. Before I even got to say hello, "Put on Nickelodeon! There's a show and everybody's talking like you!" Thus, the Angry Beavers came into my life. If you click on the logo, you'll be linked to the Nickelodeon web site where you can view a full length episode.

So, whenever you numb-boogers hear someone shouting, "What's that spooty, spoothead, spoot guy, king of the spoots doing here?" You'll know the answer! Looking for the Angry Beavers of course!

I've still got that spooty song stuck in the old noggerooni!

Chooses Muses Loses Blues(es)

People who hear voices-- saints, writers and the occasional mental patient- are frequently disarmed by prolonged silence (in their heads at least). This loss is occasionally expressed by a romantic homage to the Ancient Greeks with the phrase, "I've lost my Muse."

Generally my philosophy in life is to accept responsibility for everything which comes my way. Or, let's just fix this and we can dissect it when it's safely behind us. This isn't a formula for success, mind you. However, I'm fully aware of this and blame no one but myself.

That said, I introduce you to Calliope, pictured crudely just above. Calliope is the Muse of Eloquence and Epic Poetry. While I've never considered her to be my Muse, I do find the idea of her to be inspiring. As a fairly outgoing individual I prefer the society of real friends over that of the imaginary. That and the fact that whenever I see the name, Calliope, I hear circus music (yes, it's a link).

When I read my blogs from days gone by (I've not written a proper entry for far too long), I am reminded of the specific friends who were there for the digital inscription either in reality or in spirit. I remember the edits. I recall the laughter. I feel the love.

"I've lost my Muse," I mumbled many moons as my melancholy mantra, thus mourning my Museness mislaid and I endeavored, as any responsible individual would, to build a better musetrap in the hope of reuniting with my Muse-- hitherto, without success.

Then, it struck me. I have no Muse. I have Muses! (or, is it Mice?)

I know so many lovely, loving, extraordinary people and I carry a little bit of each of them inside me. They are the smooth stones we pick up and drop in our pockets somehow knowing that they're too special to simply skip across the lake. Fascinating. Reassuring. Inspiring!

You are the children of Zeus and Mnemosyne! You are the voices in my head. In my heart. The Music in my laughter. This isn't something I can ever lose. And, I accept full responsibility for losing sight of that!