The Fair has been going on all week. You may have noticed the lack of Fair posts. I’m slated for three days at the StarTribune stage, three shows from 3 to 3:30 or until I climb off exhausted by the effort of hectoring a small audience, or am carried off by a cheering throng. You never know.

So I will spend my weekend wandering around the Fair by myself, taking pictures, and will probably post a few on Monday, with little else. I was on the Fairgrounds earlier in the summer for a car show, so it’s not as if I have great pangs over missing it last year - especially since I roamed around the grounds in the COVID year, shooting videos. Also, I’m rather anhedonic lately. It’ll pass. No fun, but it’ll pass.

Wife is watching some tennis tournament, full of grunting amazons. She has discovered that the programs do not record if they go over the allotted time. Basic old DVR function; you could always extend time. When this service as AT&TTV TV (TV) or whatever, you could extend the recording. Now it’s been reformulated as DirecTV or DTV or whatever, and you cannot. Well, let’s check the message boards . . .

Oh. People have been complaining about this for a year. So you have to wonder: why haven’t they done anything about it? Surely someone somewhere in the vast corporate structure knew some functionality would be lost in the switchover, and I can’t imagine anyone saying “it’s only sports, who cares if they don’t get the last ten minutes.”

What do all those people do? That’s the great mystery of the economy these days. Impenetrable corporate edifices full of fiefdoms and duchies, and the peasants outside milling around in confusion. What are they doing up there? Why, when they come up with something and tell us it’s new, it’s never anything we’ve asked for?

Why can’t they fix anything? Why does everything muddle along from one half-arsed stealth-released patch to the next?

Let's open the Detritus folder. Meager contents.

   
  This popped up the other day. Oh, happy to help!
   
  HAHAHAHAHAHA
   
  Oh stop you're killing me.
   

I spotted this at the airport a few weeks ago. Is there something about this you - the person who is looking at this image - not only notices, but finds suddenly familiar?

In every ramp in this city I've ever used, that phrase is set off by two dashes. Every. Ramp.

I had to snip this from Reddit, because it's a window into a world you had no idea existed.

   
 

VOLTRON FANDOM.

Remember, this is an old show, rebooted. "The original television series aired in syndication from September 10, 1984, to November 18, 1985" It was revived in 2016.

   

Massive shipping wars. To translate, that means people were arguing about imaginary relationships that did not occur in the stories. They were running people off the internet over their theories about who's dating who. In a show about teens who fly robot lions.

   
 

The poison spread, and by their Voltronistic shipping tendancies shall ye know them.

   

More here, if you are interested at all.

This was one of those, er, eye-catching chum ads. Over 50? Why?

 

The idea that drivel like this is a must if you're over 50 is depressing, really. If you're 17, yes. But if you're an adult who spends a lot of time pushing imaginary underdressed amazons through Egyptian settings, then you lack something. Many things.

Says the man who makes imaginary themeparks, yes, yes, I know. 

 

 

 

The view from Washington and Nicollet:

Those slight protrusions at the top are just that - lines that jut out for no reason I can see, except to give the upper third some detail that holds the whole thing down, and keeps the featureless balloon from flying away.

As you can tell, I have opinions about this now. Many opinions.

Altogether now:  "the weekly sweep!"

 

Over at the Firehouse Project, as we'll call it . . . well, I told you this part was going to go up fast.

Annnd we'r still at the Hole in the Ground phase for the Thrivent Apartments. I think it'll be a stick box, so we'll be spared the ugly stumpy thumb of the service core.

 

 

"Why do you call yourself Cracker?"

"It's my way of staying under the cop's radar."

 

And once again, as he had the other day, Lance stared into space, seemingly lost, and didn't explain his rationale.

Solution here.

 

 

 

More cues from Dimension X - but a different set of cues than the First Order Suite.

   

 

I heard these suites on this show more than once, but rarely anywhere else.

 

 

   
   

 

 

Something like this makes me think it might be the same composer.

   
 

Nice edit of the scream and the cymbals. This cue pops up all the time.

   
 

What a mess. Almost sounds like Universal monster movie music at the end.

 

 

Aww, crap, this would have to come up in the rotation.

 
   

Once I was enthralled by pictures like that; seemed like something that happened to other people.

     

   

Honesty in ads. Post-Watergate, obviously.

   

 

   
  There we have it: another week in the bag. Thank you for your patronage; see on Tuesday.
   

(Sorry but the Hyvor yesterday; template error.)

 

 

 
blog comments powered by Disqus