Homophonous Nostalgia

I think few people take the time to enjoy the fact that entire sentences can be created by just using the word "Buffalo" at least once. The most famous example was from William Rapaport, who concocted the phrase

Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.

Outstanding.

rock.
m$

C.R.E.A.M. Get the Money

Last Friday crazy-like-a-fox bastard and generally silly English kuh-nig-it Dick C. Nick Branson announced that he's the un-ne'er-do-wellest to date. The Virgin Earth Challenge is Branson's newest philanthropic venture, promising what Sir Ricky B. is citing as an unparalleled recompense. The winner of this contest will be awarded $25 million for demonstrating, to the judges' satisfaction:

"a commercially viable design which results in the removal of anthropogenic, atmospheric greenhouse gases so as to contribute materially to the stability of Earth’s climate."

There is a slight catch, once you can successfully please the panel of judges (including such smoldering sexpots as Al Gore, of Al Gore and the Funky Bunch, and James Lovelock, papa of the Gaia Theory, which is in no way affiliated with Captain Planet) then you're entitled to $5 million bucks, with the other $20m coming after the design successfully kicks greenhouse gases in the teeth for 10 consecutive years.
Branson, the dyslexic nutjob entrepreneur best known for his contributions to the music industry and riding around in a hot air balloon, also decided to toss a crapload of money at the Ansari X PRIZE winning SpaceShipOne to start up Virgin Galactic.
Segueing delightfully to the X PRIZE foundation, the current contest is for the Archon PRIZE in genomics - a $10 million dollar purse for the first entrant who successfully sequences 100 human genomes in 10 days. But the real kicker is the contest that is still in development; the Automotive X PRIZE for a super freakin' efficient bit of mobilery. Also very similar is the Hydrogen 500, an on-track race for cars powered by hydrogen electric fuel cells. Pretty gee-dee nifty if you ask me.
Actually, I've been (drunkenly) ranting about the need to get NASCAR more involved in the development of alternatively powered autos for quite some time now. I mean seriously, the country's in a war over oil, on the cusp of another troop surge and yet there is this glorious insistence to expand the motorsports industry? Whatever happened to buying war bonds and recycling pantyhose? Fuck you, pussy! If I can't watch Jr. run some asshole into a wall at 200 miles-an-hour then goddamn Al-Qaeda wins. Shoot.
T'ain't nothing like watching cars drive in a circle several hundred times, yee-haw! We piss away millions of gallons of gasoline every year, and that's not even factoring in for all of the amateur racing that goes on across the US. But I digress. You see, if there is one thing that I've managed to learn, it's that life would be infinitely more excellent if only Charles were once again in charge.

rock.
m$

Canadian Gregorian Menology

It's finally happened. All my dreams came to fruition when I managed to stumble on the first truly Y3K compliant device. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I spent Tuesday evening at a hockey game at Phillips arena. While there I heard the Stompin' Tom Connors "hit" The Hockey Song. For those of you unaware (i.e. virtually everyone outside of Canada) Stompin' Tom is a country/folk singer who is fiercely jingoistic when it comes to the Canadian music industry...I dunno, whatever floats your boat I guess. Anywho, this song, a real Stompin' Tom classic, is sort of the hockey equivalent of Take Me Out to the Ball Game, but nowhere near as popular...or even as good. I guess it reminds me of a poor man's version of Big Rock Candy Mountain, but about hockey instead of fanciful tongue-in-cheek hobo gambolings.
Upon doing a little research into the song and its auteur, I came across this gem of an invention. Now I must say, if there is anything appreciated here at "the ung" more than irony, it's innovation. From Eli Whitney's cotton gin to Brad Neely's Wizard People, Dear Readers...well you get the point. But let me just say this friend, Stompin' Tom, Canada's favorite euphoniously militant son, has managed to transcend his trubadorian status and donned the cap of a true Renaissance man.

rock.
m$