How’s This for Explanations?
by Dr. Pants on Mar.18, 2008, under Music, Norway
I am a skeptic. I like to believe that everything is explainable.Deb and I tried a little test. Guess what the other person drew, without seeing. 4 colors (red, blue, black, green). 4 shapes (triangle, circle, star, heart)
try 1: Deb tries to guess what I drew. Doesn’t get anything.
try 2: I get exactly what Deb drew but have one color wrong.
try 3: Natalie (our daughter) draws a red heart. Deb then guesses a red heart.
try 4: Natalie draws a green circle. Draws a green circle.
try 5: Natalie draws a green square. Deb draws a green square!Now, if you didn’t notice, there was no square for choices. That was fucking freaky. Gotta love the Mother/Daughter connection.
Anthony Hamilton: By far one of the greatest from 2007. Actually, the song seems appropriate for the post.
March 22nd, 2008 on 3:32 am
Now, wait a second. I need to know the actual test environment to correlate.
March 22nd, 2008 on 3:41 am
Home, kids, paper. That’s it. I was amazed.
March 22nd, 2008 on 11:13 pm
Yeah, Pantaloonie, but you didn’t have walls between you, did you? There is an insane methodology the testers follow to determine what results are valid and what results are not.
I got my ass handed to me some years ago for challenging a reading readiness test that had four year olds having to decide which was prettier among a flash card with of a girl with straight hair, a button nose, and a thin smile and another of a prepubescent nappy-headed ho with kinky hair, a flat nose, fat lips, and a Joe Pyne tee-shirt.
I’m working again for a testing firm that determines who gets a job and who doesn’t, based on similar horse shit. Everyone wishes for soap at the imaginary showers.
There is nothing in the world that means anything. There is no other world except this one for assholes like me. I am amused, confused, and defused at once. Doesn’t mean a thing. Not a thing.
Every time I learn of a new extinct species, I stick my thumb up and hope someone’s ass appreciates the gesture.
What ever happened to Shari Lewis and Lamb Chop? I always remember Lamb Chop around Easter. Seems fitting, somehow.
I’m wrong, of course, about everything, according to polite discourse, but I’m still here, still writing, and outlasting my critics. When the last of them is gone, I will finally admit that they were right. I hope that makes them happy, the dead pieces of shit. I’ve already had all the happiness I can take.
Osama bin typing on a Bluetooth keyboard
March 31st, 2008 on 6:03 pm
“Some stories are too delicious to change…”