Cool day, Thursday was; temps in the 60s, with an autumnal snap to the morning. Brought me up short: what, we’re done? The cicadas fell silent; no lawn-machine drones in the distance. It's like Ripvanwinkling through the core of the summer and waking to find it’s dadgum orange Oreo season already, dadgum it.

Is there a hierarchy of mild oaths? I don’t think so. In the world of serious cussing, it’s D - H - GD - S - F, but in the world of dang and darn, dadgummed is equal to dagnabbit. I was watching a documentary on whales the other night, and wondered if their songs have evolved, and whether we would be able to communicate them with synthesized versions - or whether our attempts to swear in Whale would sound like “double dumb-ass on you.”

Okay, not a documentary. Star Trek IV. You know what always bothered me about that movie? I think it’s delightful in almost every way, but when Kirk took the Whale Scientist Lady on the ship from the future, he didn’t say “this isn’t one of ours.” I know there were more pressing issues, but just a sentence would have helped her adjust.

“I know it smells horrible in here. This isn’t an Earth spacecraft. Our ships are clean and well-lit and don’t look like everything will make you wonder if you’re current on your tetanus shots. This is a Klingon ship. You’ll learn all about them later. Now let’s get the whales.”

One of the things that bother me about Trek in general is the way they always looked down on 20th century Earth conflicts, with Olympian disdain. Russians vs. Americans, how small-minded. Sure, they were primitive, but they could have figured it out. Anyway, set course for the Neutral Zone, we have to investigate secret deadly Klingon missiles placed on a small asteroid within range of Starbase Florida.

The stupidest thing Captain Picard ever said: “can you believe they once went to war over economic systems.” We were supposed to admire his wise post-money enlightenment, but it just sounded like he hadn’t studied much history. I don’t buy the post-money economics of Star Trek at all - even if replicator technology eliminated scarcity, and high-quality goods were ubiquitous, hunger and want a thing of the past, etc., people would still come up with meaningful units of value exchanged for services or objects. An immense barter economy would arise. Wealth and social status would be connected to the things that could be replicated, but were not. A bottle of Saurian Brandy with an old peeling label will be worth more than a bottle of synthesized Saurian Brandy that duplicates the original exactly, because some people will always ascribe value to the real thing.

Eventually the concept of “the real thing” disappears, but in the world of the movies and TV shows, it hadn’t. They valued antique glasses, old books, archeological artifacts. They still made wine.

Anyway, there wasn’t any money because Roddenberry didn’t think there should be money, and Great Bird of the Galaxy and all that. The way some people talk about him, you’d think he was L. Ron, and founded a religion.

What, you say, he didn’t? Noted.

 

Detritus: things I set aside in a folder called “Detritus.” Link chum, bad sites, odd photos.

This has bothered me all week:

So . . . what am I now? Where am I now?

This sign is supposed to be turned around the other way, so you see the message when you leave the building through the skyway. As I've noted now and then, there are seasonal Burma-Shave-style messages that guide you into the building or out, and they're part of the 333 Building's desire to have a Culture. A mood, an atmosphere. I work over at Capella / StarTribune, which is much larger and has its own culture that's less focused on play and more focused on a variety of amenities. Concerts, food festivals, a nice fireplace with a coffee shop, and so on. We're big. 333 is hip.

I told them the sign was wrong on Tuesday. It was still like this on Wednesday. It had been wrong for weeks and no one had said anything.

Speaking of my building, something I noticed today:

 

They were in a hurry to put the body away, it seems. I don't care if the stone matches exactly. We gotta get out of here.

 

Took out my phone, and noticed this: best pocket-type I’ve had in some time. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t use bing.

 

 

This is a screen shot of a website that wants me to read its work and perhaps bookmark it.

 

A reminder that the people who run some websites never actually look at the website - or that they don't care at all.

Here’s a major newspaper making it real easy for you to learn what’s going on in the world:

 

Well, let's scroll down a little - surely they're lots of great content here!

 

I can read words! I can see things now! And I can dismiss the video player! They do care about me, they do!

On to link chum, aka web-infesting crap ads:

   
  Because her PANTS had SPLIT and you could see her BUTT and EVERYTHING! That’s what my friend said and he knows because his dad’s friend worked on the movie SWEAR it’s true and they had to take back all the copies of the movie and take it out. But someone has it. Probably Hugh Hefner!
   

 

Honestly, what actress would be surprised to note that the Crew Was Staring? Maybe because they were shooting a scene and everyone was doing their job?

 

   
 

In case the implication is too obscure, TV Guide steps in to crook two fingers in your nostrils and lead you over to the point.

We are all the lesser for having even glanced at these ads, and I am sorry.

   

 

 

A while ago I noted another apartment building going up downtown. Big dig; had to go down deep for the entire block to put in the parking ramp. Not it's above ground and growing:

 

 

 
 
 

It's one of the most boring buildings downtown. But it's better than a parking lot.

But it's one of the most boring buildings downtown.

Unlike this one, which I completely forgot about and neglected to document. The most Florida-type tower going up downtown today.

Not technically downtown; it's on the other side of the river, which means those views are going to be fantastic. It took a long time to build on that site, and for a while it seemed as if it wouldn't happen. A plating company occupied the site, and many . . . interesting chemicals were reportedly soaked into the ground.

Which would be bad if you were digging in the parking lot with a jackhammer until you hit soil, and then ate a bunch, I guess.

 

 

 

As noted, I'm going through the entire Gildersleeve series this year - and there's a lot. Season 5 is underway. Peak of the show's popularity and creativity.

 

   
 

Sleep music has to have clocks. But this one quotes a tune; do you know it?

   
   
   

   
 

More insomnia music; do you suspect a dream sequence coming on?

   
   
   

 

   
 

The main theme goes into the most generic City Traffic music in the history of the genre.

   
   
   

 

   
 

 

If this wasn't a popular song, it should have been.

   
   
   

 

   
 

AD: 1950. News for Cheese Lovers. Guess what's back!

Contain your excitement, Americans!

   
   
   

 

More Les:

 

The last tune on the album. It's 1954. This stuff will be obsolete, soon.

 
   
 

Now it sounds like something from a Woody Allen soundtrack - and I mean that in a good way.

   
   
   

 

That'll do - thanks for stopping by this week! Next week: something quite similar.

But unique nevertheless. I hope.

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