What You’re Looking For


Image representing Google as depicted in Crunc...

Image via CrunchBase

So one of the benefits of the traffic increase of having been Freshly Pressed twice is that Google takes me more seriously now, and I get a lot more search engine traffic on the blog now that I did three months ago.

My old blog used to get more search traffic than this one did until recently, and I used to do an occasional post about searches that had brought people to the blog. A lot of the searches on this one are pretty straightforward queries related to a handful of posts, but I’m starting to get enough traffic that I’m starting to see some amusing searches show up.

That said, interesting search strings on SIMP in the last month:

  • where can i get me a machine that i can carry in my pocket to spell words
  • mississippi billboard “we are all losers”
  • crude palm oil will hit to myr 4200 by the end of the month december 2010
  • forest in my pocket
  • my laptop cords powerpoint is like beside my bed sorta thing, and somehow it fell out, and a bit of it was hanging out, and sparks were going everywhere! i was like s—! quickly turns power point off .
  • sam flynn smile
  • www jazz hitt com
  • whats a good lego set
  • transformers imagine 20 years from now get in the car
  • bay town texas makes incence illiegal
  • stone and water in iphone
  • read this sentence from the passage: they both cost the same, and if the two salads decide to get married, they can have a bunch of little salads and send them all off to salad school to take reading comprehension tests.in this sentence, the author is explaining how
  • thas wat made me myne crazy high but i spot a traitor out my lazy eye lady spy i’m tha one they wana hav thea baby by maybe i’m beta off alone keeps me in my zone
  • which are things in that needed in the notice of petrol pump notice on no smokina for what?why?
  • bears in my pocket
  • ugly guy mullet moustache
  • teachers book writing reports on future robots tigers laser lemon limit major minor and valid
  • & i’ve changed? i dont have lighters in my bra, i’m not asking people for ciggs, i don’t have smoker hands, and i don’t believe in cutting myself to ease pain. i have nothing to hide. you can’t find a boy, maybe because you hang out with bad people? i know i get heart broken, but i bounce back. pills, they’re also not the answer, so if you wanna tell me ive changed, then your blind
  • how to make lego armor with play doh
  • clint eastwood my mull
  • give us small topics over usefulness of forest to mankind in hindi font
  • embarrassing incident at harry potter movie and projector
  • what would happen to the demand curve for metallica cds if they became unpopular?
  • piggly wiggly/mississippi
  • what is the meanning of this proverb”he who brings kola brings life but i think you ought to break it
  • show me a picture of a mullet haircut on a woman
  • photographs of squatters living in batcave in brooklyn in early 1980s before closed
  • diluting concentrated sulfuric acid with water can be dangerous. the temperature of the solution can increase rapidly. what are the signs of dh, ds, and dg for this process?
  • what i should do in my house if i am bored and i also dont have any pets or tele and i am bored sitting on the computer too i am a primary student
  • ole miss improv
  • the “chocolate or vanilla” rule
  • soviet futures stories
  • birds take so long to die + angry birds
  • lori skylab
  • i’m david hitt, am i on meth?
  • johnny depp what am i to do? then i recall, in my pocket i have a sketch of something rustic, with limbs; i put it out, and deliver…
  • preacher from huntsville wrote a book
  • well wookie
  • people dying because of facebook stories
  • a nation that loses the _______ of honesty loses its __________.
  • if you were a purple monkey and your dad was a yellow starfish could you drive a limo up a pole at sundown?
  • if your parents not give you 4 presents and everyone elas does what do they do after christmas
  • nasa village of santa
  • a movie then go back farm time of insulin to kill him
  • kid deleted angry birds from ipod touch can you reload
  • grisham’s the confession banned in boston
  • babies have their whole lives ahead of them
  • david hitt cigars
  • what is the luxury of knowing about keith urban

‘Twas The Night Before Nerdmas


(This is something Lain and I wrote years ago for our comic strip, Hatbag, It appears in our collection, Bagged & Bored.)


 

 

‘Twas the night before Nerdmas, when all through the house
Only Seth was stirring; he was clicking his mouse.
The network was primed through the router with care,
Seth with iPodIn hopes that St. EveJobs soon would be there. 

His buddies were nestled all snug in their cribs,
With visions of Mountain Dew, Skittles, and ribs.
And Seth in his PJs that showed Mr. T
Had just settled down in his unique IP.

When out in the street there arose such a ruckus,
Seth sprang from his chair, knocking over his Zuckuss.
Away to the window he flew like The Flash,
A complete run of whose comic was safe in Seth’s stash.

The moon on Seth’s car, all Dr. Who-stickered,
Gave a glimmer like magic as off them it flickered.
When what to Seth’s wondering eyes should appear,
hollyBut a flying DeLorean with robot reindeer.

With a little old driver, such a tech-laden elf,
That Seth knew it must be Mr. Apple himself.
More rapid than broadband his coursers they came,
And, linked to them with Bluetooth, he called them by name!

“Now, H4x0r! Now, Lucas! Now Shatner and Tolkien!
On Gygax! On Torvalds! On Bendis and Whedon!
To the top of the porch! Don’t mind the firewall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

As back issues that in the big comics sale fly,
Before collectors raise their price to the sky,
So up Seth’s house-top the coursers they flew,
hollyWith a bunch of nerd swag, and St. EveJobs too.

And then, in a twinkling, Seth heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each nerdy hoof.
As he reached for his phaser, his face Yoda-green,
Down the modem came Jobs, and right out through the screen

He was dressed casually, from his head to his foot,
And his mock turtleneck was as black as the soot.
With a bundle of toys to dole out from his sack,
As quick as a row of Xserves on a rack.

His eyes – how they twinkled! His glasses how trendy!
His smile was like Mork, his composure like Mindy!
St. EvejobsHis droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And his cool six-day stubble was flecked as with snow.

A tiny iPod he had tucked in its sheath,
And the white earphones circled his head like a wreath.
His West Coast physique had no hint of a belly,
And he radiated cool like Arthur Fonzarelli.

He was techno and hip, a right nerdy old elf,
And Seth laughed as he showed him his figurine shelf.
A wink of Jobs’ eye and a twist of his head
Told Seth that his love of toys soon would be fed.

He opened his pack and brought out many things,
Complete sets of both Star Wars and Lord of the Rings,
A soldering kit, and a Wi-Fi detector,
hollyAnd a cardboard stand-up of Hannibal Lector.

A Trinity doll, in all her skin-tight black finery,
And a set of droll T-shirts, with slogans in binary.
A new MIDI keyboard, a case of Diet Cokes,
And The Omnibus Big Book of Microsoft Jokes.

As the last of the nerd loot piled up on the floor,
He brought out the batteries – fifty or more!
And then, turning the switch on his belt back to Play,
He gave Seth a grin, and beamed back to his sleigh.

Jobs booted his team, and as they leapt towards the moon,
Seth saw a bumper sticker: I (Heart) Kakrafoon
And he heard Jobs exclaim, as he warped into night,
“One more thing: Happy Nerdmas, and to all an iSight!”

hollyhollyhollyhollyhollyholly
–Lain Hughes & David Hitt

 

 

The 12 Days of Christmas


Thanksgiving With the Kranzes


If you haven’t seen this brilliant, note-perfect piece of space-related Thanksgiving levity, today is your lucky day! Watch! Enjoy! Heck, even if you have seen it, how better to get into the Thanksgiving spirit!

“For Hate’s Sake” — Angry Birds Fanfic


If you haven’t played the Angry Birds game, you’re missing out. It’s very fun, and rather addictive. That said, it strikes me as the Moby Dick of the modern generation; a tale of an obsession with vengeance so deep that it no longer considers the cost.

From hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee.

“We die.”

Red Breast and I watched as Yellow Wing was flung toward the fortifications; the horror that we had once felt now replaced by a dull, shell-shocked emotional aching.

The canaries had proven during the conflict to be the bravest of us all, or at least the most dedicated. Not content with the momentum imparted by the terrible catapult, Yellow Wing mustered the last of his strength, driving himself with all the velocity he could find faster and harder into the walls protecting the pigs. There was a crashing, a shattering, of wood and glass and stone — and bone — and with that, Yellow Wing was gone. His life had been exchanged for that of the mother pig, helmeted and protected deep in the protective structure with her baby before our attack had begun. Earlier sortees had claimed the life of her husband and torn down the walls that were to keep them safe.

And now, it was but Red Breast and I, and the piglet that remained alive in the shattered ruins, protected now not by the walls that had been erected to keep him safe, but by the debris that had fallen during the attack, landing in such a way not to crush him but to shelter him.

The two of us, and a baby pig. Our leaders would say that it was only fair; the life of their young in exchange for ours, the eggs that they had stolen from us that had launched this conflict. But the truth was, it had long since stopped being about the eggs, we had paid a far higher price in our own eggs than they ever had taken from us. My own beloved had dropped three of our eggs, three of our unborn children, on the pigs, using them to knock down walls, to kill our porcine foes, before she finally sacrificed herself bringing down a fort. Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.

The general said that she chose to give her life because she thought it was the only way to take down the wall. I suspect she could no longer go own killing her own children for the sake of this war; a war she, like so many of us, fought not out of belief in the cause but purely out of loyalty.

This was no longer a war.

This was genocide.

The pigs’ initial attack had been repaid in their blood and our own a hundred times over, and yet still we persisted. The pigs had stopped fighting back, and had turned purely to defense, and yet still we persisted. We killed, and continued to kill, and died in the process. Our generals sent teams that were poorly equipped for the tasks they were given; blue birds died en masse bringing down walls that would have been simple for one blackbird to take down. But the generals didn’t care; they were far more interested in haste, in fighting a war on a hundred fronts than they were in our lives. If they could have shed enough of our own blood to drown our enemies in it, they would have, and gleefully. They would not be content until either all of the pigs were dead, or until we were.

“We die,” Red Breast repeated in empty monotone, as he climbed into the dreadful catapult himself. He launched himself toward the rubble, and toward the piglet hidden inside.

I heard the sick thud and snap of his neck breaking as he hit the wall, splintering it with the force of impact.

As the dust settled, I surveyed the results. The piglet was still alive. Red Breast was dead.

But with his death, he had shattered the last of the debris that protected the baby pig, leaving him exposed.

A child. An orphan. An innocent. A child, not unlike the eggs that had been stolen to start this conflict.

My squadron was eliminated. It was only me. I could leave. Go home. I’d lost my beloved, our children, but I could go home with my life. And in doing so, refuse to take the life of the innocent child before me.

I loaded myself into the catapult.

“Aye, we die.

“But we take pigs with us.”

Only Life


It’s been a while since I’ve written just a general “what’s going on in life” post, but I’ve written enough topic-specific posts about different things that I thought I should do a catch-all catch-up post.

My brother Jonathan came in fourth place in the election. He was only slightly behind the third place candidate, but both of them were well behind the two candidates who made it into the run-off. He had a pretty decent lead over the bottom four candidates, however. It was, of course, disappointing that things didn’t go better, but he did a good job making a name for himself, and he ran a respectable campaign. The other candidates took him seriously as a contender, and he received some notable endorsements. I don’t know what he has planned for the future, but I think he built up some political capital this summer should he choose to use it.

For the first time in months, we had to cancel an improv show Tuesday night, because only one person showed up. We told him he can use his ticket for a future show, and, as a bonus, used him as a test-market for trying out a new game that we’ll probably bring back out in a couple of weeks. I’ll be in a show tomorrow night at Kenny Mango’s Coffee Shop in Madison (Buy tickets here and save!) and will be playing in the show at Sam & Greg’s next Tuesday. Come check us out!

The mission trip to Costa Rica that I wrote about a while back has been indefinitely postponed.

The deadline for the shuttle book I’m co-authoring has been postponed, but not indefinitely.

I got my Arlo & Janis strip in the mail last week, and it’s awesome.

Heather’s NASA blog has finished its initial pilot phase, and, rather than going into normal operations, is instead going into a second pilot phase in which we test a version with even more awesomeness.

I’ve still only taken my kayak out once. Sad, really. Of course, the weather is getting to a point where it should be more agreeable to do so soon. Probably not this weekend, though.

I’ve worked at Marshall for eight years, as of a week ago today.

OK, I guess that’s enough.

Rock And Robbin’


More strips at comics.hatbag.net.

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