I hope you've all been enjoying Nikki Finke's Deadline Hollywood over the last couple of days! We don't know what's going on there. It's kind of like the Pitch blog is haunted by juicy, but very spoo-oooky Hollywood scoopage. Consequently, I wasn't going to write anything this morning. "Let Nikki Finke do it,"
I said to Justin, lazily scratching my stomach with one hand while shoveling a fistful of Combos Pizzeria pretzel snacks into my mouth with the other. "Is there any way to get our site to resolve to something more irritating, like Metafilter? I love how they post a link to a site and then explain exactly what kind of a link it is with complicated, insider-y acronyms. SLYT post, you guys.""Is there any possibility you might shut the fuck up?" said Justin. He was trying to listen to some of the filthy messages women leave on his voice mail several times a week. "Besides, you remember what you wanted to name your web feature? DAILY BRIEFS. That means you have to post DAILY, or else you single-handedly turn us into a bunch of liars. Unless you want to change the name to something accurate? Like, "Chris Packham Shops in the Ladies Department?"
"Hey! Are you making fun of my pants?" I asked. "They're extremely fancy. They got writing on the butt! J-U-I-C-Y," I said, touching each letter as I spelled it aloud.
"DUUU-UUUH," said Justin. "I'm Chris Packham. I hate National Public Radio. I want to make love to Detective McNulty. That's my impression of you. Stop talking to me before people start thinking we're boyfriends."
Me and Justin are pals. We're going to drink Cosmos after work and dish about boys. After the jump, some science whatever and some econoalypse whatever. Or, possibly, Nikki Finke, if we haven't got all that straightened out yet. Click here or here:
Econocalypse Whatever: "To speculate against a currency, you need to be able to borrow it cheaply and in large amounts. The Fed has now guaranteed both," writes John Kemp of Reuters, in response to the zero percent interest now offered by the Federal Reserve, all of which apparently means the dollar's value will plummet. As a hedge, I tried to get the Human Resources department to switch my direct deposit from dollars to Euros, but apparently it "doesn't work that way." The only thing left is to start betting against the dollar, which is the same as betting against America. Sorry it didn't work out, America, tell it to H.R. Trust me, Lee Greenwood would do exactly the same thing. In accordance with my new financial plan, I've borrowed a shitload of U.S. dollars from the King of Kash, which I'm using to buy up Euros, which I will then sell for depreciated dollars, which I will then use to pay back the King of Kash. It's a break-even proposition what with the sub-prime interest rates, but my prompt repayment schedule gets reported to the credit agencies, I come out smelling like a rose and receive pre-approved Discover applications which come with free airline miles. I'm gonna tear Bermuda a new party-hole next spring.
Science whatever: Japanese scientists have plunged their science into a human brain and extracted images from inside the visual cortex. Subjects who, I assume, were lashed Anime-style with alien tentacles to an electrified fuck chair, were shown a series of 10 x 10 pixel images while scientists monitored changes in brain activity with an fMRI machine. When the subjects were subsequently shown a new set of images, the system reconstructed those images based on their brain activity. In the future, they may be able to watch the dreams of sleeping subjects. Pretty soon, the companies that manufacture those parabolic spy microphones disguised as bluetooth headsets and advertised as "hearing aids" will offer cameras that spy on whatever you're looking at or thinking about. Not that there will be a lot of surprises there, Pervert Hoover.
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