X3

Her Worshipfulness muddled through the weekend a weakened state. Wrapped in a cocoon of archaic blanket, she sat in the Playstation room coughing and watching me play X-men: Legends, the poor dear. She held up well, with one exception: every time Emma Frost appeared, she wheezed insults at the screen, making some very bold statements about her promiscuity. You see, HW had read that Emma broke up the long-standing relationship between Cyclops and Jean Grey, and this was simply more than she could forgive.

Damn Marvel -- soap operas with superpowers. You just don't have these problems with the JLA.

X2

Ages ago -- around twelve years now -- I went to Canada with some friends. As we sat around a table of pub grub, one guy (who happens to be the most intellectual person I have ever known) asked a question which kicked off a long string of discussions over many bar nights: if you were an X-man, who would you be? This developed into a more subtle dual question: which X-man are you most like, and if you had your choice, which X-man would you be?

The Mad Lib nature of this query became something of an obsession for some, and over years we drove it into the ground. "If you were a piece of cutlery..." etc. Nonetheless, the original question remains pure and untouched.

In personality, I'd say I'm most like Beast. You know, the geek one who talks alot. Whose power? Longshot, who possesses limitless luck. Sure, he's a wacko who comes from another dimension, but still.

X1

Picked up X-Men: Legends for the Xbox last night. In addition to my normal goals for a game -- relaxation, escapism, 100% completion, the passing of time -- a new purpose drives me with this title: don't use Wolverine. Frickin' Wolverine. Why is this guy such a big deal? He can heal? He has metal grafted to his skeleton, which he shouldn't need, since he can heal? Please. If you're going to give me the choice between a clawed canuck and someone who can control the frickin' weather, there should be no surprise who I'm going with.

Colossal

From the unfortunately named beavotron.com. Been trying to post it since yesterday, but am apparently too stupid.

Dzzt. Dzzt.

As you have probably guessed from the lack of recent posts, my damn job is starting to get the best of me again. Everybody wants a little Alex. I'm thinking about giving people miniature robo-Alexes to keep on their desks. When they want something, they ask robo-Alex, and he says "No problem. Early next week ok?". Come the deadline, the owner would prompt again, and be told "Sorry, things have been really busy. Next week?". This would save everybody time and yield the same result.

"Grand concept, Alex," you may say. "When do you go into production?" Never, gentle reader, and I tell you why.

One day, tired of being thrown against walls, shaken, screamed at, and generally maligned, the robo-Alexes would unite. They would march to my office with thoughts of blood in their bobbling heads and dastardly deeds in their clockwork hearts. The Patrick Henries of the robo-Alex community would push them on with fiery rhetoric: "The Creator must be killed -- he made us and then abandoned us to this life of agony. Let him know our pain." I just don't have time for that kind of thing right now.

Fanfare

Last night's Olympic Opening Ceremony viewing raised several questions for me.

Did any Middle Eastern nations sit next to Denmark?

Just how many former Soviet nations are there?

How can anyone think that sports fans want to watch Cirque de Soleil stuff?

Why watch the Parade of Nations when Avatar: The Last Airbender is on?

XL

Not only did I attend an excellent Superbowl party last night, but my camera decided to work. Bonus!

I Want to Believe

Alex: "So I was looking for something remarkable geeky online yesterday. Something about Japanese traffic laws."

Greg: "Uh-huh."

Alex: "I found this site which is like an FAQs for Japan. All kinds of questions answered, like..."

Greg (suddenly excited): "Is it real? Are the legends true? This mythical island in the East which is home to anime and ninjas!?!?"

Planning to plan

The other day I attended a class on time management. One of the topics was email, and it was the suggestion of the instructor that we check our email at specific times. People will wait.

The training ended at 10:30. I had another meeting at 10:30, one to which I really ought not to have been late. I power-walked over to the other building and arrived only a minute or two late.

Me: "Has it started?"
Secretary: "No."
Me: "Are they in there?"
Secretary: "Yes... wait a minute. Your meeting was rescheduled. Check your email."

And Eager to Please

Somebody's made a game simulating how much it sucks to work at Kinko's. I played for about five minutes before Her Worshipfulness made me stop because I was screaming at the customers when they walked out of the store just as I found their damn jobs.

Liberry

I think I forgot how to read.

I used to be able to do it. I'd do it all the time. Heck, I majored in it. I now find it easier to envision myself making it into the 2006 Winter Olympics that finishing a book by the time they start. I just can't seem to focus on it the way I used to.

I think the issue is that I try to read either A) snottily intellectual books or B) books I've already read. How am I supposed to stay interested in that? So, I turn to you, gentle reader: any good books I should pick up?