
Meet two new robots the Japanese have invented, both designed to scare the poop into your pants.
First there's "Mask-Bot," which according to The Week, uses "facial emotion data" to emulate an actual human face. This is super creepy, and not to be mean, but I'm pretty sure I saw this thing protesting at Occupy Portland last week.
Then there's "Asimo" which was inexplicably built by Honda—because one day we're going to give up our cars for freaky running robots??
Imagine that first robot's face placed on the second robot. Now imagine 100 OF THEM CHASING YOU DOWN THE STREET. Pleasant dreams, everyone.
It seems so clear now. Of course Skynet will actually be located in Japan.
As obvious as it is that flying orb robot will eventually enslave and brutally massacre us all, I do find it utterly adorable that it has a little plastic egg for a little house. Via io9.
Soylent Green, I get. It's a 1973 film set in not-to-distant 2022, so it's perfectly reasonable to anticipate the super-advanced food processing technology necessary to transform a stringy old Edward G. Robinson into a tasty snack cracker, co-existing at the same time mankind stupidly plunges itself into an ecological disaster. I mean, I could imagine a scenario like that a decade from now. Couldn't you?
And Blade Runner? Yeah, that Android technology is way too advanced for 2019, but there's all those great noodle shops all over the place, so it's hard to describe the setting as exactly a dystopia. I love noodles. So Blade Runner doesn't count.
But Terra Nova, honestly, 140 years from now we can send people through a fucking crack in time but we're still spewing shit into the atmosphere like in Al Gore's worst nightmare? Really? Sorry, I'm just having a little trouble suspending disbelief.
More after the jump.
But then, most Fox News viewers are confused by basic facts, so that's a good thing.
I'm always looking for a millionaire dollar book pitch (Hot, gay Vampires that crave a good, hard staking! What? It's been done before?) so I can bail on this sinking ship and join the lucrative and profitable world of publishing.
Since Gaydracula is out (it gets better, buddy), looks like it's time for plan B: a book devoted entirely to Grateful Dead artwork that stoned hippies draw on envelopes. Now to sit back and let the Dead Head nostalgia money roll in...
Since the band's earliest days, Grateful Dead staff saved tens of thousands of decorated ticket-request envelopes sent to them by Dead Heads hoping to capture the ticketing staff’s attention with their mind-bending designs. These envelopes are inspirational and hugely insightful, not to mention brilliantly illustrated and unique within the world of rock. Now, for the first time in print, these unique pieces of art have found a home.
Crap.
From author, rock historian, and the Dead Head of all Dead Heads, Paul Grushkin, Dead Letters: The Very Best Grateful Dead Fan Mail collects more than 300 of these mind-blowing envelope masterpieces, all presented in 14 thematic chapters.
Are you ready to have your fucking mind-blown... by an envelope? I sure am. Of the "14 thematic chapters," 13 are devoted to "Dancing Bears and Skulls With Roses and Some Shit" with the final chapter being an epilogue.
End Hits: A coffee table book about fish that resemble Trey Anastasio! This shit is genius!
Warner Bros. is in the process of finalizing the deals for David Yates and Steve Kloves to re-team for a multi-movie version of Stephen King's epic The Stand.This makes a lot of sense for a lot of reasons... The Mick Garris version for television is a very faithful telling, but there's something wild and terrifying about the book that television standards and practices just didn't make room for, a scope to the world of the book that still hasn't been captured. Kloves is a smart writer and given two (or possibly even three) movies to tell the story, he can let it live and breathe, and hopefully nobody's going to try to push this to a PG-13....
Yates had mentioned his involvement with The Stand when he was doing press for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II, but he was still just thinking about it at the time. Word is that the deals are now coming together quickly, and that this is a priority project.
I haven't read The Stand since I was about 13, when I tore through every King book I could find at the library, but I remember thinking it was pretty badass. (I recall next to nothing about the plot, though, aside from: a plague, good and evil, Vegas, a woman laying on her back admiring at her boobs in a ceiling mirror, and a pyromaniac. As with most of the books I read at that age, I was mostly just scouring it for the parts that involved sex and/or violence, on which counts King rarely disappointed.) Still: King's a great writer, and Yates and Kloves are a solid team, so I'm guessing this could be pretty impressive. As long as they keep that excellent scene with the ceiling mirror, that is—I remember it being pretty pivotal—and also as long as this whole thing doesn't come to the same sad, whimpering end as Ron Howard's ill-fated Dark Tower adaptation. Chin up, Opie! You're a shoo-in for the big-screen Andy Griffith Show reboot.
You are surrounded by hippies, who do everything in their power to crush you in their soppy dank grossness. Let's not even talk about how inconsiderate these miserable fucks are—actually no, let's talk about it!
3 a.m.—First off, I did not realize that bands would be playing ALL NIGHT LONG right by my tent, but it's cool because a great pickin' 'n' grinnin' old-timey band starts playing, with a female dynamo singing.
5 a.m.—Band clears out for bed. Group of musically challenged hippies take up the reins.
5:30 a.m.—Clogging happens. Really loud clogging, with some spotty tambourine playing and enthusiastic bucket beating.
6 a.m.—Hippies make up their own song as the sun comes up. It goes, "Walking in the morning/walking in the morning/walking in the morning/walking in the morning." These are the only lyrics to their song. Rinse and repeat for an hour. Seriously, rinse and repeat, hippies! There are twigs in your hair!
7 a.m.—With the Grateful Dead playing in the background on a stereo, the hippies mistakenly and boisterously believe they know all the words to Neil Young's "Heart of Gold." They are wrong.
7:30 a.m.—Hippies crawl back into the dirty hole they came from.
7:45 a.m.—Nearby generator kicks on! It sounds like this, "RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" Thirty minutes and 50 decibels later, it mercifully shuts off.
8:30 a.m.—Feral hippie child shouts, "Mommy, I have to go potty!" The remaining li'l hippies in the tent village perk up their ears and come screaming from their tents.
Moral: Bring a bottle of Tylenol PM and some earplugs. Why did no one tell me this?
Other hippie boner-killers:
* Alison was struck by a runaway hula hoop.
* Ned saw a baby being bathed in a porta-potty sink.
* An intimidating hippie lady told Raquel the shower line would move faster if she just stood in line naked.
* A football huddle of four trustafarians untangled as I was walking back to envelop me in their hug circle maw. For two petrifying minutes, Aaron, Matt, Amy, and Ryan "hugged" me. I don't think I breathed the entire time, my body rigid, suspicious, and full of peace-love-and-understanding opposites. Reluctantly they released me. After chugging a beer, I walked back by to see them with two new hug-receivers in the belly of their hug beast. If only I could've warned them.
The Portland City Council this week is going to vote on all of the various pieces that make up city's plans for coping with all manner of tragedies: earthquakes, floods, terrorism, etc. Sounds grim, yes. But in reality, it'll all be pretty dry.
So why should you care? Two reasons. Tucked into city code are a pair of interesting little nuggets. First is the line of succession in Portland should the unthinkable happen and the mayor find himself among the first wave of casualties. After Sam Adams, it goes like this:
1. The President of the Council (Randy Leonard); 2. The council member who has most recently served as President of the Council (Dan Saltzman); 3. The council member holding the position with the lowest number (Amanda Fritz—this doesn't make clear where Nick Fish would fit in...); 4. The first of the city officials in the order listed in Section 2-206(9) of the charter of the city of Portland (city auditor (LaVonne Griffin-Valade), city attorney (Linda Meng), chief administrative officer of Office of Management and Finance (Ken Rust), executive assistants (ie, chiefs of staff) of disabled Council members in the order of their seniority as an executive assistant).
Second is an enumeration of what kinds of powers we'd cede to whoever emerged as mayor during an emergency. Among them:

And then there's also these:
Because after watching this, you'll say to yourself, "Yup. Now I've seen everything."
Hey, look at that: Not an hour after I get back from an advance screening of Fast Five, the news has gotten out that Fast Five director Justin Lin's officially on board to reboot the Terminator franchise (yes, reboot again, but I think we can all be grown ups here and, when discussing movies about killer robots, agree to pretend that Terminator Salvation never happened). This time Arnold Schwarzenegger's attached to star, because of course. Deadline has the scoop.
Cool by me. The Terminator series was awesome for two movies, crappy for a movie, awesome again for a TV show, and then crappy again for another movie, so it's not like this franchise is some sacred cow—James Cameron washed his hands of it long ago, and god knows they're gonna keep going back to it until they get it right (possible!) or until people get sick of watching rampaging robots go on rampages (impossible!). Lin's a decent action director, they'll no doubt come up with something entertainingly ridiculous to explain why the T-800 is all old and paunchy now ("I hahve been prograhmmed vith ah new mission... to terminate Snickahs bahrs!"), and regardless of how the actual movies turn out, at least we can rest assured that delusional Salvation director McG is currently crying himself to sleep. So let's just chalk this up as a win.

"The Skynet missile defense system goes online April 19, 2011. Declares war on mankind and triggers a nuclear apocalypse two days later." —Cameron, Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
So, y'know... get your stuff in order, I guess.
I do appreciate the incontrovertible truth-ism that this video purports: that eventually our robot subservients will go haywire, overcome us, and destroy us—possibly while rupturing certain tender parts of our bodies. Because that is WHAT WILL HAPPEN, people.
ht: Simon
End Hits: Also, what's up with the watermelons?
And much more! My friend just moved here to get her masters at Portland State University. Last night she and I did an internet search on the comically named current PSU president, Wim Wiewel. Little did we expect that the first site we clicked on would clue us in to the REAL truth about PSU! The 9/11 UFO Genocidal truth!
A snippet:
What is the reason that PSU Safety Patrollers, routinely profile, harass, and wrongfully cite elderly, black and white American men for trespassing, while continually to grant refuge to and harbor illegal aliens from Mexico? How come all of Portland State University presidents, have to be from out of state, or in the current case of the present, president, to be from Holland? Why is it that no graduate of Portland State University, is ever smart enough, or good enough, to ever become PSU president?
If I were asked to pick a favorite part of DimWeasel.tripod.com it would probably be the unexpected pro-cockfighting advertisement. But there's so much crazy, low-hanging fruit to pick from!
h/t to Rachel Hunter
As mentioned in GMN, the reason it took you so long to get to work this morning is because of the GET MOTIVATED! business seminar currently underway at the Rose Garden. Though this may come as a shock, I decided against attending this seminar... but not because I think I'm too awesome (though—let's face it, guys—I am pretty stinkin' awesome!!). I chose not to attend this huge pep rally because it has already done its job: I'M SUPER DUPER MOTIVATED, YA'LL! Here's how I got that way:
1) The Get Motivated! seminar motivated me to run 13 stop signs in the central eastside this morning in an attempt to get to work on time.
2) The Get Motivated! seminar motivated me not to attend because of their repulsive guest speakers, which include Laura Bush, Rudy Giuliani, Terry Bradshaw, Bill Cosby, and Colin Powell. Hey, Get Motivated! Where's Ann Coulter and Muammar al-Gaddafi?
3) The Get Motivated! seminar motivated me to read an article from the Oregonian (a great feat in and of itself) on the Get Motivated! seminar, which thanks to the following paragraph motivated me to get kinda depressed.
Willis and Carmody, assistant managers of a Southeast Portland Burger King, waited outside the Rose Garden ticket office to meet fellow Burger King team leaders from eight franchises around the Metro Portland area. Their district manager suggested they all attend.
GET MOTIVATED! to hit the jump for more of my motivations, as well as a totes motivating motivational video that explains why motivation killed the leader of the civil rights movement. MOTIVATE!
As you probably already realize, your family pretty much sucks. They're kind of evil people who don't really care about anything but themselves and their boring, stupid problems. HOWEVER! There is a family out there who is much, much better! And it is THIS family!

Oh, overweight centaur—would you please adopt me? (HERE'S A FUN GAME: Imagine you could be any member of this family... including the lonely girl in the wheelchair. WHO WOULD YOU BE, AND WHY?)
via
Nobody wins a nuclear war... unless you're the United States and you take a whole mess o' them dirty red Ivans with you! That's the cheery premise of a 1956-1957 military training film recently unearthed by the National Archives.
George Washington University says this once-lost film is perhaps the only government production that ever explicitly depicted the nightmare scenario that haunted generations of Americans: all-out, global nuclear combat with the Soviet Union. It's just like you might imagine, except for one thing.
Notice how calm the actors are, despite having to pretend to issue orders that will kill hundreds of millions. Me? I get apoplectic when the office coffee maker seems to take too long. Watch the preview (of the nuclear holocaust, not me getting angry) below:
I came across this sign during a recent drive along SE 17th Ave:

Who says popes are old fashioned?
The Catholic church just approved the "Confession" app (which at $1.99 is a bargain compared to the 10-percent-of-income tithe), in which you can "keep track of your sins"—w0000t. Peep the handy sinning checklist system:

It's being marketed as "the perfect aid for every penitent," and if that doesn't sell it to you, I don't know what will.
If you are James Cameron, Michael Bay, or for that matter any person currently living in the United States of America, prepared to get your ass HUMILIATED by the most AH-MAY-ZING robot flick ever. What follows is a ten minute (and worth every goddamn second) excerpt from India's incredibly popular flick Ethiran (or Robot) which makes every American-made Terminator and Transformer look like a Play-Doh Fuzzy Pumper Barber Shop. This clip is dubbed in Russian, obviously because there aren't any English words to sufficiently describe it. WATCH. IN. AWE.
... and it's just as uncomfortable as everything else she does.
(via The Rumpus)
There was a piece in NPR's Morning Edition today about Billboard's new "Social 50" chart that tracks music sales and popularity through social networks like Facebook and Twitter. At the end of the story there was a tag about what song is currently topping Billboard's Ye Old Hot 100 chart, a supposed indicator of what Mainstream America is listening to. That song is this song:
I'm not going to waste your time listing the innumerable ways this song and video are stupid, pandering and unworthy of the faintest praise because I am taking it on assumption that you also have two eyes and ears. I'm also going to assume that you, like me, are shocked that Pink - excuse me, P!nk - exists and is still raking in money by pooping the same "Let's be individuals together" dreck out of her mouth hole.
But am I being unfair? A look further down the Hot 100 makes me wonder several things: Am I the outlier and everyone I know is secretly listening to Bruno Mars and Ke$ha? Or maybe, are we the outliers and is the majority of the country doing that?
If so, who are these people? Is it strictly preteens or is the Billboard Hot 100 really indicative of median musical taste across age, location and socioeconomic identity? If not, what does this list even represent anymore in America (or maybe, what has it ever really represented)?
Hit the jump for more videos from the Hot 100's current top ten.
This Katie Couric interview with hand model Ellen Sirot is c r e e p y. I wonder if she ever stops with the balletic hand gestures and psycho-mommy soothing voice. She does have a point, though—Couric's "sexy hands" do kinda suck ass.
For those of you who were upset that Four Loko is disappearing or changing then I have (good?) news for you.
It's called Whipped Lightning.

No, this isn't a joke.
It's whipped cream infused with alcohol. The website for Whipped Lightning describes it as Whipahol.
They have nine flavors of Whipped Lightning, including Strawberry Colada and German Chocolate. According to one article each container contains between 15% and 18% alcohol. It's doubtful that many will eat an entire can of whipped cream in one sitting, but you never know.
It's not available on the West Coast at the moment. The OLCC does not have it listed and there doesn't seem to be much movement on getting it here.
However, Nevada will be getting Whipped Lightning soon. If you really, really want to try this alcoholic topping go hit up Vegas.
... BUFFALO, NEW YORK! Congrats to the early bird shoppers of Buffalo, who piled up in a squealing mass of humanity when the doors of the local Target store were thrown open on the biggest/nastiest shopping day of the year. Thankfully nobody appears to have been seriously hurt, except maybe for that one guy doubled over in pain. Luckily, today is Cyber Monday, which typically has all the discounts without the body counts!
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