BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

There are certain things, that when said aloud, will bring most any conversation to a screeching halt. You know the things I mean. Stuff such as, “Whoops, my hair is on fire…” or “Whoa! Is that Dana Delany over there?”

Personally, I have an intense fondness for the Dana Delany comment, but then we already knew that, right? Well, if you didn’t, you do now… Oops… Guess that was sorta awkward, eh?

The thing is, there are several such phrases that can bring a conversation to a sudden halt. Case in point…

I was prattling on endlessly with my PA the other day. As it happens, the o-spring is out of school for the summer, so she was sitting there fiddling about with her Nook or some such since it is loaded up with a ton of summer reading for her. Since she’s all kinds of brilliant and has a high school level command of the English language, I often forget that she’s still just a tween, so my filters aren’t always in place. In this instance, they weren’t, and I was talking to my PA about Merrie Axemas, and In The Bleak Midwinter, giving him a synopsis of the stories, how they related, differed, and other such nonsense.

Well… Anyone who has read Merrie Axemas knows that there is a dismemberment involved. Merrie. Axe. Mas… You get the idea. So moving right along, as we are talking the o-spring pipes up and says:

“Did you know that when your head is chopped off you still live for eleven more seconds?”

This really shouldn’t – and didn’t – surprise me. After all, she’s my kid… But that’s not the thing that stopped the conversation. I mean, think about it. I research all manner of nastiness for my thriller novels… After all, I write about serial and/or spree killers for the most part. That’s why I’m a member of the HWA, and not the “Grandma’s Cozy Knitting Happily Ever After Ending Whodunit Club”…

But on with the story… you see, since both my PA and I know my kid, we just continued the convo, involving her at this point. Mainly discussing the fact that 11 seconds might be a bit of a stretch, but that there was some evidence to indicate that the brain continued to function very briefly following decapitation.

This then turned to different ways of dying, and before I knew it my PA and my daughter were into a discussion of which way to go would be the least traumatic. They got onto beheading, suffocation, drowning, etc, and I added my two cents, that being the fact that I was under the impression that suffocation wasn’t a particularly pleasant way to go, no matter HOW the suffocation happened. That’s when my PA regaled us with a tale of how he had almost drowned – or come somewhat close – when he was a child, and how it had gone from a fearful struggle to a simple calm… Well, obviously he didn’t drown, or he wouldn’t have been there having weird death conversations with my tween daughter.

But this was when the conversation stopper came.

Darling daughter pipes up, “Yeah, I almost drowned a few years ago.”

You could hear a pin drop. I stared at her. She stared at me. My PA stared at her. She stared at him. We all stared at each other.

Finally I broke down and said, “When was this?”

“A few years ago at blankity-blank pool,” she replied.

“How?”

She shrugged. “It was before I knew how to swim and my friend took me to the deep end and left me there because she didn’t know that I couldn’t swim.”

I stared some more. “Why am I just now hearing about this?”

“I dunno.”

“So, did the lifeguard jump in and save you or something? I mean, it seems to me they would have told us about it when we picked you up from summer day camp.”

“No,” she said. “My friend just took me back to the shallow end.”

“Well, did you start sinking or what? How did you almost drown?”

She thought about it a second and then said, “Well… I might’ve kinda exaggerated…”

Guess I can’t complain. She’s my kid. She got it honest…

More to come…

Murv

As kids – and even as adults – we develop fascinations with things. Among the romanticized things for which folks develop an attachment – Pirates.

I mean, look at the facts. We could go back to all of the old Errol Flynn movies… Skip forward to the movie Yellow Beard… Skip into the here and now with the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise… And I’m not even going to mention the romance novels involving one-eyed, cutlass waving, buff scalawags. Why? Because I haven’t read any of them – the cover art was more than enough to scare me away.

However, in this day and age, even with the PotC franchise and the like, there are a different breed of pirates out there, and I’m not talking about the Somalis. I’m talking about the chuckleheads who steal from others and then profit from it. This is a big thing with music, movies, and even books. Take, for instance, a recent facebook status update from my wife, The Evil Redhead herself:

But you know what? As angry as that makes me, there are other pirates out there. The kind that steal from folks who have websites. I’m not talking necessarily about the folks who borrow a picture or two. I think we’ve all done that, and I am the first to admit that I might have a generic photo embedded in my blog to which I don’t own the rights because I found it somewhere and couldn’t figure out to whom said rights actually belonged. That’s why I have a disclaimer saying that if you see a pic on my site that belongs to you and you don’t want me using it, just say the word. I’ll make it go away. Or give you credit and a link if that’s what you prefer.

However, that’s not the Internet thievery I mean. I’m talking about when someone HOTLINKS to an image on your site to embed it in their blog, or website. Basically, they are just too damned lazy to download it themselves, or they don’t want to waste their own bandwidth. Nope… They’d rather link off to your site and run your meter, because that way it comes out of YOUR pocket, not theirs.

And after all, the Internet isn’t just “public domain” it’s out and out free, right? Yeah… I think we all saw how well that worked for Little Miss “Honestly Monica” now didn’t we?

So, whenever I fall victim to this bandwidth theft, and I find out, I do something about it. Now, mind you, I COULD do something incredibly crass and obnoxious, like bitch at the person in their comments section, or replace the hotlinked item with some really wicked, bad, nasty porn, but that’s just not my style. I’d rather replace the item with something that will make the offender think – hopefully. It doesn’t always work, but hey, why not pose an ethical question so that a lesson can be learned… (Can you spot the picture I swapped out on my server? Bet you can…)

Click Photo To Enlarge

Note – I went ahead and blurred out the name, content, and picture of the offender, primarily because after about 6 hours someone finally pointed out to him that he’d been caught and he removed the hotlink. However, please don’t get the impression that I think he is now a fine, upstanding Internet citizen – There was no apology forthcoming, either on his blog, or even in a private email.

Of course, having studied a boatload of different religions, and knowing his from the bio on his blog, as I understand it I’m not the one due the apology. God is.

Hopefully he will address this at his next confession. I’d sure hate for him to end up in Hell all because he kyped bandwidth to display a picture of a coffee cup…

However, just in case God is reading my blog – I mean even the Supreme Being needs a chuckle every now and then, doesn’t she? –  Anywho, if God is reading, maybe she could go ahead and put a bug in the Priest’s ear – since it was a coffee cup picture and all, don’t be too hard on the guy. I’m thinking two Hail Caffeineas and an Our Peaberry oughta cover it…

More to come…

Murv