On rhythm and the lack thereof, in Natter:
Nilly:
There are researches in synchronizaton which show that if a crowd of people claps (like, at the end of a play or a lecture, not to a tune (and, yes, I know it's not the subject, but I'm one of the people who can't follow a tune at all, so I try to post about something else)), even if very few people clap at a slower rhythm, the whole group will adapt to that, eventually.
tommyrot:
There must be a way to use this knowledge to, I don't know... take over the world or something.
ita:
Wait -- so the rhythm is gonna get you?
shrift:
Dude, even cow looks wrong if I write it enough times.
DXMachina:
Cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow, cow...
Huh. I wonder if that's why Gary Larson quit doing the Farside.
Susan W:
I just spent 15 minutes on the shelf above my computer.
Daniel C. Jensen:
Sounds like a nice strong shelf.
Cass:
Owen,
Look deeply into momma's very pretty eyes. They look lots like yours, right?
Well Sleep makes them much more sparkley.
And also useful to draw minions under your thrall. Try it.
Sleep and see how powerful you can become.
Also? The books? Gawd the cute. Reading is good.
Love,
Auntie Cass
Cashmere:
Dear Auntie Cass,
It's so funny to see Mommy get up early. Her hair is sticking up and her eyes are all sleepy.
Plus, she gives me a bottle and turns on the tv.
Besides, I'll catch up with two naps today.
Love, Owen
P.S. BWHAHAHAHAHA
Cass:
Dear Owen,
No laughing at the mommy. Even for sticky up hair. (Okay, but try to control it into a grin that might mean teeth, might mean funny)
The bottle contains the Sleepy Nectar of Milk (or milk replacement). It will lull you back to the land of twitchy baby dreams.
Watch the tv. The soothing colors and editing make Baby Owen very sleepy cause he is up early. Very sleepy. Slumping against the mommy and happy to be put down to dream for a couple more hours...
Love, Auntie Cass
(When you sleep, mommy can sleep too... Hee hee.... )
Topic!Cindy:
Dear Owen,
You're already too beautiful. You don't need to be evil, too.
Love,
Auntie Cindy
Going back a long ways in the
Firefly
thread:
Kathy Astrom:
How much smarm could a marmot snark if a marmot could snark smarm?
Beej, in Bitches, on the perils of addictive faux-feline arranging:
In other news. You know you've stacked too many cats when your dog does an intervention.
Seriously, I've developed a bit of of a problem with the carefully placing feline facsimilies and Bartleby has become concerned. Last night, it all came to a head after he'd been staring at me...he uses the strategic stare of death to communicate. (Barking would be to common for him.)
I determined that the stare was not an outside? or supper? or play ball? stare...but since I'd never seen the "Dear Dog, my person has become a pathetic, powerless cat stacker and I must save her" stare before, I misunderstood. So. I kept stacking. What else was I supposed to do?
It got pretty uncomfortable as he kept creeping closer and closer to me, staring all the while.
I should point out that he's no lap dog. Like now, for instance. He's obviously watching me closely...periodically checking that he sees no cats stacking on the screen. But he's lying beside me, relatively calm. Every now and then, he lolls his head around to give me the "It's okay, you can do it" stare, but mostly he's calm.
Last night...after increasingly forceful staring, he leapt up onto my lap, with all 43 of his lbs. and literally slapped the keyboard out of my hands and on to the floor. He stretched himself across me, so it was impossible to move and began fervently licking my hands with what was obviously a 'reject the evil cat stacking', admit you are powerless over the stacking, I'll be right here with you, there is life after stacking," intensity.
I'm pretty sure he's having "one day at a time" inscribed on a Milk Bone for me.
Damn you, Kathy! I was just about to do that!
t clears the clipboard, muttering
Sigh.
Maybe I'll take up smoking.
(Beej, don't bother. You'll just learn to get out the smokes when a matched pair of cats is falling, or when the dog (not your dog, the cat stacking dog) comes to clear them out. If you can wrangle a lighter with your non-mouse hand, you're just going to end up doing both at the same time. *cough*)
