|Just hold still, willya?|
Da-da wrote about this last September, advising folks to use fruit and veggie wash to ensure that produce were squeaky clean. Well, then Da-da came upon this technique and tried it for a few weeks and... it works better. The above technique is the best way to wash pesticides, herbicides, fungicides, bacteria, dirt and bugs off fruit and veggies, in Da-da's humble opinion. The vinegar method is also easier and uses less water, as the fruit and veggie wash is basically soap that takes a lot of water to remove, completely.
Note that Da-da just went a whole paragraph without making a crude vinegar-and-water joke. See? HE CAN DO IT. Once.
|Did you hear that?|
Da-da's gonna have to release his regular Thursday post today, as he's chaperoning a haunted field trip tomorrow; he went on one yesterday, and of course something paranormal came out of it. Da-da doesn't search for these things, they just happen. More later. In the meantime, here's a true story of acoustic collegiate shananigans that, like parenting, involves guile and strategy and science and negative reinforcement. And yes, extreme sound.
The Art and Science of Sound (or, "If You Build It, They Will Hurl")
Ever have an obnoxious neighbor play crappy music so loud that your toilet rattles and your fillings fall out? You gently complain to them about it, and ask them to please keep it down and they pretty much ignore you and play their crappy music even LOUDER, anyway? If you answered, "YES," then this true story is for you. (If you answered, "NO," then move along. Nothing to see here.)
|SAY IT. WATCH IT. MEDICATE IT.|
THIS was Amazon's original ad for this box thing before it got pulled from their splash page after only 24 hours. (FYI, Da-da's NOT touting it; he still uses shadow puppets and praying mantises with words written on their wings.) Da-da had a feeling Amazon would pull this ad (which is why he snatched it), as it was so insane. Da-da still can't tell if this was really cleared by some art director/marketing stooge before someone called 'em on the carpet -- or if it was because they got hacked, as the ad is clearly ridiculous. AND EXCITING, WOW.
Time for a spooky car tale -- a true, first-hand account with TWO eyewitnesses that mechanics still talk about.
This was about 15 years ago, back when Da-da was thin and good-looking and single and had a mint-green convertible and no children and now Da-da's weeping like a little girl. [sniff] Da-da was at his mechanic's shop, having just had the alternator replaced AGAIN in his 1990 Mustang 5.0, which ate alternators and batteries (and had horrible brakes), but Da-da digresses.
The job done, Da-da hung out while nursing the $168 hole in his wallet, watching one of the mechanics wrench on an intriguing 1958 Buick Estate Station Wagon that had been partly restored to previous glory. It was big and black and had huge chrome bumpers that weighed as much as Da-da's entire car; it was what Da-da calls a, "ten convenience store" car: at 90 mph, it could easily plow through ten convenience stores before it eventually ground to a halt. The car was empty, which was easy to see in its empty expanse of white leather seats.
Da-da stood next to the Buick's driver-side, admiring its bulk. The mechanic, Alex, a cranky hippie who looked like a shaggy Sulu from Star Trek, was leaning into the enormous engine compartment, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth as always. Even without its hood, the station wagon was possessed of a kind of awful beauty, reminding Da-da of that Steven King book/movie, "Christine." The car even had a name, "Beatrice," painted in bright red letters on the big white dash.
Beatrice was idling variably, while Alex fiddled with the idle speed screw on the carburator. It seemed to be fighting him, never setting where Alex wanted, which Da-da would've found odd if he hadn't grown up around cars and machinery and computers, all of which are demon-possessed. Alex was vainly trying to slow the idle down... but it kept speeding right back up, edging higher and higher. Alex cursed the vehicle soundly...
Then, as they say, it happened.
We both heard something near the dash, Da-da couldn't tell you what, and we watched, hypnotized, as the station wagon's shift lever moved by itself.
With a CLICK-CLICK, the shift lever moved forward deliberately toward the driver's seat, then one click to the right... it suddenly dropped into gear and CHUNKED into... REVERSE!
Suddenly in motion, Alex leapt off the car and Da-da jumped back as the Buick rocketed backward... right into Da-da's fresh green convertible.
The behemoth's bumper smashed nearly the entire driver's side. Of course there wasn't a mark on the Buick's chrome.
Alex looked at Da-da, horrified, waiting for Da-da to explode in anger. But Da-da did what he normally does when faced with the absurd: he burst out laughing.
"Guess Beatrice didn't like your language," Da-da said, and Alex looked at the Buick fearfully.
Other shop mechanics ran over to see what had happened. Troy, the shop's owner and lead mechanic (who had once driven five hours into the desert to pick up Da-da and his vehicle after the head gasket Troy repaired failed in the middle of nowhere), listened to Alex explain what happened. He blinked and looked at Da-da, who nodded and affirmed Alex's account.
"I've been working on cars for 23 years and I've never seen a car put itself in gear before," he said. The other mechanics, some of whom had a few decades on Alex, concurred.
Troy looked at it and said, "Oh. That's Beatrice. Did you say something bad about her?"
Alex nodded and Troy shook his head. "Now you know," he said.
The pinacle of matter-of-factness, Troy jumped into Da-da's car and drove it next door to a body shop, where they went to work. It was done the next day. You couldn't even tell that anything had happened.
Meanwhile, Alex and Da-da just stood next to Beatrice. Da-da took a deferential step back. Alex reluctantly got behind the wheel, started the Buick and pulled it gingerly into the garage, where he worked on it quietly, and with some grudging reverance. Now, whenever anyone asks Alex about the strangest thing he ever saw, he has an answer.
Don't ask Da-da how he knows, but an amazing, golden future is very near. All you have to do is want it, commit to it. It's ok, you can believe in a future that's golden. It's real. Even for those who have strayed so far from the path. There's always room for those who willingly change their mind, and start the way they know is the right way. We all wind up in the same place, eventually. Why make yourself miserable? You don't deserve it. None of us do.
UPDATE: Well, SOMETHING happened, but Da-da can't tell exactly what. Bronko and Nagurski were fairly well-behaved that day, so maybe that was it. Still...
|Buckle up TIGHT, Timmy.|
Da-da never thought of himself as prescient: he doesn't have the haircut for it. But like Hannibal Smith always said on A-Team... yeah, well. You get the idea. Perhaps Da-da should move through this in little steps. Here goes.
First, let's go back to Da-da's dream-post for December 21, 2012:
Pay No Attention to the Planetary Meiosis and Mitosis Happening in Front
of the Curtain: Da-da's Sky Anomaly Report From the Field #47
of the Curtain: Da-da's Sky Anomaly Report From the Field #47
Start reading at, "Now it gets weird."
Back to the present: Da-da read this today at in5d.com:
It really gets started after all the stuff about colors.
Strangely, or perhaps shockingly, this hypnotized person saw exactly the same thing Da-da saw back in December, 2012 -- but in a whole lot more detail and in awesome technicolor. Oh, and that it's going to be happening, say, in the next few weeks. Sure, Da-da's version invoked donut mitosis, but that's beside the point. When ONE
wacky person sees something in a dream, you throw rocks. When TWO wacky people see the same thing in a dream state... you throw more rocks, but you do so running in the direction indicated in the prospectus.
Like Da-da keeps saying at parties he's not invited to: he takes everything at face value, because it's all part of the same movie. But when he sees what goes on behind the screen... and then someone else sees the exact same cosmic weirdness... well, he ellipses all over the place. Correlation? Pattern? Too early to tell? Da-da's head, such as it is, has no idea, but his gut knows plenty. Did Da-da just call himself fat?
Da-da highly recommends relaxing about all this. A lot. Slow that heartbeat down. If the world suddenly explodes with technicolor light like LSD Barney blotter in a cosmic blender, just reassure everyone that everything's gonna be ok, except for those poor unfortunates in the DOWN elevator (they'll come back UP eventually). In the meantime, like the dolphins said before they left this version of the earth, en masse, shooting rainbows out their... well, never mind.
|Da-da prefers the BBC version, but this one's good, too.|
Whales and unicorns all checked out early, too. Strangely, they left all their krill baggage and horn polish behind. Who knew? Needless to say, buckle up, Timmy.