Dark Flow, or How Space Upped Its Craziness Factor a Bit

If you are a dork like me and want to waste every possible second of the day you have (which seems to be my goal in life), then you should spend a few hours on space.com and prepare for your head to explode. I briefly touched on it with my “Water on Mars” post, but space fascinates me, as I’m sure it does everyone else. I mean, you’d have to be pretty unimaginative and boring to not at least care somewhat about what’s going on out there. But here’s the best part: no one knows what the hell is going on out there! Scientists and astronomers (of which I wanted to be one, but came to the stunning conclusion that I was in no way smart) are basically like TV viewers and space is like the public access channel. SOMETHING is going on there and it is absolutely fascinating, but no matter how long you watch it and how many theories you come up with, it’s not going to make a lick of sense. Where do we come from? What are black holes? Dose the universe have an edge? Why are two drag queens singing gospel songs in a graveyard? Mysteries, my friends. Mysteries.

One particular article caught my attention today, and it was so cool I had to share it with you (and by you, I mean YOU. You are my only reader). I always want to talk about this stuff, but I end up not really understanding it and instead draw pictures of E.T. at American Apparel. But this one has me giddy with excitement. In short, there is something out there that is pulling huge clusters of galaxies around, all in the same direction. It’s like in Go, Dog, Go, where they are all heading to the tree party (kinda). Scientists claim that there is nothing in the known universe that could cause stuff this big to move at these speeds (and this is independent from the fact that everything is moving because the universe is expanding), so they say there is something OUTSIDE the universe causing this. OUTSIDE THE UNIVERSE! And they are calling this phenomenon “Dark Flow.”

First, let’s discuss the name. “Dark Flow.” It sounds like a heavy-metal/rap fusion band. Scientists, who are the biggest dorks ever, always seem to come up with the coolest names for things. Like “event horizon” (one of my favorite terms ever) or “dark matter” or naming all the planets after ancient gods instead of something like “the red one.” The only time they’ve ever really fumbled the ball on a name is “black hole.” What about “darkness arena?” Or “warp zone?” Second, wow. Things outside the universe pulling things around? And they are so far away, further than any light has ever traveled since the creation of OUR universe, that there is no way we can see them. On top of that, the article implies that our universe is self contained, kinda in a bubble, and the “rules” that apply here might not apply in other bubbles outside our bubble. I mean, just think about that for a second. Wow. And then on top of that, they use the word “structures” to describe the objects that are pulling. Now, structure to me is an artificial word. You call something built a structure. You don’t call something “natural” like a tree a structure. It’s almost like I can imagine that the universe is under construction, and that out there at the edges you have the construction zone and it’s giant cranes that are pulling things around… no thanks, I’ll pass on another brownie!

Fascinating. Just fascinating. I hope someone shares my enthusiasm because I am going to be thinking about this all day.

Also, did you read the one about the Large Hadron Collider, the giant particle accelerator that was built deep under the Swiss? Where scientists are going to smash particles together and try to create the conditions of the Big Bang in order to understand the mysteries of the universe? And how some people thought this would bring about the end of the world? Well, they turned it on for a test and then something “broke” somewhere (I’m not a scientist so I can’t understand all the deets) and now there’s a problem. They say that something happened with some magnets somewhere, but think about it. When it was turned on, the world was supposed to end, or at the least a portal was supposed to open. Now it’s shut down. Hmmm. What are the Swiss not telling us

Also, China has a functioning space program? Why wasn’t I told?

Here Comes the Story of the Hurricane

As the dawn of another weekend approaches, bringing with it the hopes of fun, adventures, debauchery, or at least a decent amount of sleep, I am reminded of the events of last weekend in which fun was kinda sorta promised to me, but instead no one had any fun at all. Earlier last week, residents of Austin were informed that a massive, earth-ending, Jake Gyllanhall-fighting-The Day After Tomorrow-style hurricane was going to hit the Texas coast and that it was headed straight for the city. Feet and feet of rain were forecast, Biblical winds were in the mix, and my mom even called to suggest I board up my windows (after what transpired during Actual Storm ‘08. Was that what I was calling that one? I don’t remember). And might I remind you, we don’t even live on the coast! In fact, one might be inclined to call us “Central” Texas, placing the Gulf of Mexico, or any bordering state/country/means of escape, some millions of miles away.

But as the week went on, the storm shifted, and all the excitement I was looking forward to last Saturday was thrown out the proverbial window. First off, the Texas/Arkansas game was canceled. This really wasn’t for inclement weather so much as the fact that literally billions of hurricane-weary refugees would be hitting the Austin area. The game has been postponed until ACL weekend. Secondly, the hurricane set its sites of Houston and Galveston and, you know what, ended up being no fun at all. Galveston was basically destroyed, and Houston became an even worse place to live in. I know people down there who STILL don’t have power and I’m all like, what’s the deal? Why aren’t hurricanes fun anymore? When did they decide to become such assholes and level cities? They used to just blow in and piss everywhere and knock a few things down but people were still able to party (I’m woefully over-generalizing here). Now it’s like they saw the Al Gore movie and they have a fucking score to settle. Asshole hurricanes. Why don’t you stick to the ocean where you belong? Your kind are NOT welcome here.

Before you think I’m making light of the situation (and if you do, it’s time to get off the “over sensitive” bus), I want to turn this into a rant about Austin (the city) and how we cope with exciting weather events that may or may not come our way. You tell any Austinite that any sort of storm or rain or anything is coming and people immediately take to I-35 to cause as many traffic delays as they can. It’s how we cope with things here. Storm coming? Let’s go cause a traffic jam! Exciting event? Look, an interstate!

A few days before the storm, the city was in full fuck freak-out mode, made all the more hilarious in retrospect by the fact that we did not get a drop of rain! I had to go to the store Thursday night, long after forecasters in the area had said “my bad” and it was apparent most of the storm would miss us. But oh boy! It was naturally pandemonium. You would have thought The Beatles were somehow reuniting and the only way to get into the concert was to stock up on batteries, bottled water, and powdered eggs. I was at the store cause I had to be, I was completely out of food, but I have to admit that I was a bit curious to see how everyone was acting. And they did not disappoint. I was in line for like 45 minutes and surveyed what people were buying in case the world ended. Yes, microwavable stuff is good! That will be so easy to fix when the power goes out! Microwaves work on imagination! Stocking up on meat? What a FABULOUS idea! Condoms? On second thought, that’s actually thinking ahead…

This kinda sort of reminded me of Ice Storm ‘07, from whence Arm Storm and Storm Storm and Smell Storm et al got their names. Everyone remember that? In January 2007, the mother of all ice storms hit Austin. Now, in the north, I imagine this would be called “Tuesday” but here, it was epic! The city completely shut down for two days. Everything was closed and there was no where to go. I sat in my apartment and watched the longest movies I could and became somewhat of a JFK assassination aficionado (JFK is a long movie). Now, while we might have overreacted, I will admit that Ice Storm ‘07 was a pretty BFD. For the first time ever, I had to use an ice scraper on my car. I didn’t even know how to use the thing. Apparently beating your windshield with it is wrong. After two days inside, with no contact with the outside world, rumor spread that Taco Cabanna might be open. I hit the road. Huh, driving in this really isn’t all that hard. You just have to, you know, put down the fucking cell phone once in a while and maybe signal your turns. Maybe we should try this everyday! Long story short, Taco Cabanna was open, the city did not freeze to death, and we were all a little embarrassed with ourselves in the morning (seriously, no one did a single thing for TWO DAYS!).

So like I said, in retrospect, it’s probably for the best that nothing happened in Austin. It was sunny all weekend and, to top things off, a cold front came in and now the city is more beautiful than ever. These refugees are never going to leave! But things might go south on September 27, when ACL Storm ‘08 collides with Texas-Arkansas-Redneck Fans Storm ‘08. I plan on not leaving my house for two days. I’ve stocked up on microwavable stuff, meat, and condoms. Ah, who am I kidding? I chose M&Ms over the prophylactic.

I Went to a Family Reunion and All I Got Was This Smelly Car

For Labor Day weekend, I went to the big family reunion. Before you run away in horror and stop reading, don’t worry. I’m not going to rehash every single detail from the weekend as I am wont to do. You’ve all been to family reunions before and you know how they go. It seems that most people hate them, or at least tolerate the event, but I love mine. On my dad’s side, that is. They drink. My mom’s side? Eh, not so much…but I digress. I’ve had a blast at these things since I was a kid, when we would eat cookies all day, build forts with long-lost cousins, and stay up till past midnight playing Mario Kart on the Super Nintendo.

But my how things change when you are an adult! I don’t know if it was always this way, or if I am just now catching onto it, but these reunions get really, really fun! And by fun, I mean alcohol and food soaked. We played beer/wine pong. We sang karaoke. We did tequila shots. And everyone is so much cooler now. Those cousins you built forts with? They’ve served a tour in Iraq and almost got a leg blown off! Mario Kart? We’ve moved on to Fuck the Dealer, thank you very much. And like I said, we have an absolute blast. My family, for the most part, gets along really well, especially the young ‘uns. But it occurred to me that, at some point, we’re the ones who are going to have to start running this show. So we better get out kicks in now. Cause my generation of the family does not have the organizational skills to pull off a reunion. And if we do, it’s going to be a keg and a beer pong table somewhere in a pasture. And most of the attendees might not be family.

I also want to add that little cousins are a lot of fun, but after playing “shoot the bad guy” for like three hours straight with my five-year-old second cousin, you kind of get it, you know? I died like eight times and was like, “Okay, I’m dead for real this time. I’m going to go drink. Have fun!” And he’d be all, “Pretend… pretend… pretend… [he's out of breath here] pretend like you didn’t die and you came back to life.” And I’m all, “Well that’s impossible. No one comes back to life. And God is dead on the battlefield!” And he has no idea what I’m talking about. He just says, “Pretend… pretend.. pretend like you’re the bad guy now.” And I’m thinking this will get me permanently killed sooner and thus out of the game quicker. So I say, “sure.” And he punches me in the balls. That NEVER happened when Jill was the bad guy.

Anyway. The long lasting effects of the reunion are, 1) memories (albeit hazy) of lots of fun, 2) a sore sack and, 3) the stench of death in my car.

Allow me to expand on that last one. At some point, an uncooked breakfast casserole, with eggs and cheese and milk and other perishables, was placed in the trunk of my car to take home later that night. Well, they spill, naturally. So I attempt to clean it up, not really paying that much attention, and it really didn’t spill all THAT much. So I go to bed that night, not even thinking about it, confident that the casserole will taste great in the morning.

Well, it did. Tasted really good. This is Monday morning, and I go drive back to Austin that afternoon. I remember thinking something in my car smelled a little weird, but nothing too big. After all, I hadn’t exactly taken a shower that day. I was waiting till I got back to my apartment cause getting into the bathroom at my parent’s house requires you to take a number like at the DMV. So I think nothing of the smell and go to bed that night, not even thinking about it, confident that that Bagleful in the fridge is going to taste great in the morning.

Well, it did. So I get ready for work, go out to the car, and Oh man! I definitely smell something now. I sniff myself, distinctly remembering that I had showered (I know cause I was singing “Great DJ” kinda loud). But I figure, hey, we all have off days. We don’t always smell our best. And I don’t like my coworkers all THAT much so this’ll serve them right for pissing me off ever. I still don’t even think of the casserole spill.

After work, back in the car, and holy hell. It smells like wet feet covered in moth balls and tuna. And poop. I still can’t figure out what it could be. So I’m driving home with the windows rolled down, trying to remember if I hit a deer or an armadillo or a cat over the weekend.

Go home, change, go to Morgan’s to watch 90210 (another post for another day, but it was great!) On the way over there, my mom calls and then it hits me. The casserole! When I stop and pull over, I open the trunk just to confirm my theory. OMFGDJHCSOB! (try figuring out that acronym. You can do it!). It smells like the Porta-Poties at ACL mixed with wet feet and moth balls and dog poop and tuna and all that other stuff and then mixed in with the Porta-Poties from a construction site. It was bad. And I naturally freak out, afraid that the smell is going to attach to me a la Seinfeld. When I get home, I Febreeze the trunk, totally spray it down, air it out a little, scrub it a bit, yadda yadda yadda. Doesn’t help. How did this happen? I didn’t spill that much casserole (I think…).

The next day, I take it to get shampooed and vacuumed. I open the trunk, and the cleaners were like “Did you murder a dog or something?” And I just smiled and said, “Fix it.” Like I was in the mob. Like they shouldn’t mess with me. Pretty sure this didn’t work. Well, an hour and $50 later, I get the car back. I think it smells okay. I can’t really tell, there’s so much other odor in there. But the damn thing sure looks clean (as clean as it’s ever been). So I go back to work, not even thinking about it, confident that the Gardenburger I will be having for lunch will taste great.

Well, it did. When I get ready to go home, I check the car again. IT STILL FUCKING SMELLS! So now it’s time to go medieval on this Detroit piece of shit. I:

-sprayed the back with some sort of car spray
-scrubbed the shit out of all the carpet with soap and water and removed the jack and spare tire in case they were the smelly bastards
-sprayed another half a can of car spray
-poured baking soda all over it so my trunk looks like Scarface’s desk.
-scrubbed again
-more baking soda
-more car spray
-opened one of those cans of air freshener that kinda remind me of Spam and set it back there
-spray the interior of the car
-hang a UT air freshener from the rear view while inexplicably humming “The Eyes of Texas”
-keep the windows open, confident the smell will drive away any would-be car-sleeping hobos.

That was just about two days ago, and it’s still holding up. I don’t think I can smell the casserole anymore but I can’t really tell. Maybe I’ve gotten used to the smell, or maybe it’s because my car now smells like a it collided with a big fake artificial vanilla bean. Seriously, the artificial vanilla smell of my car makes my eyes water. It’s not worse than the smell before, but My God! I’m going to check it in a minute to see where we are after this morning when I took out the Spam vanilla in the back cause I couldn’t take it anymore. Fingers crossed!

And so much for a short post.