Archive of entries posted on May 2003

Frank Answers: Planck Time vs. Miller Time, Ninja Turtles, and Hitting Monkeys with a Car

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Robert J. from Gusev Crater, Mars asks:
Is the “Planck time” in any way like “Miller time”?
As we all know, a Planck time is the time it takes a photon going at the speed of light to travel a Planck length. Just to remind you, a Planck length is the scale at which classical ideas about gravity and space-time cease to be valid. This is equal to 1.6×10^-35 meters. It takes a photon 10^-43 seconds to travel this length, and thus 10^-43 is the smallest unit of time that has any actual meaning in physics as we understand it today.
In the end, Planck time is a measurement of time, while the lesser-known Miller time expresses a condition of matter and is not an actual measurement. Miller time is reached with enough proton, electrons, and neutrons come together to form something referred to by physicists as a “fat party animal” which then proceeds to drink beer and dance around. This condition lasts for many times that of Planck time, and has undesirable aftereffects the morning after.
Wind Rider from Baja, Hungary asks:
Do the mutant ninja turtles qualify as real ninjas?
For this questions, it is best to consult the ultimate ninja authority. According to him, these are the essential facts about a ninja:
1. Ninjas are mammals.
2. Ninjas fight ALL the time.
3. The purpose of the ninja is to flip out and kill people.
While fact two and three may be true about ninja turtles, ninja turtles are reptiles, thus going against fact one. Ergo, ninja turtles are not actual ninjas. Their leader, Splinter, is, though.
George S. from Nilandhoo Atoll, Maldives asks:
If I’m traveling in my JATO-assisted 1972 Chevy Impala at the speed of light on a highway in the Arizona desert and I hit a circus truck full of monkeys, might I cause a rift in the space-time continuum such that I create a “Planet of the Apes” scenario in the present (or alternate) universe?
This is a great question, and the fear of this rift and undesired results is the main reason why I obey all traffic laws when driving my Hyundai.
Now, it would be irresponsible to experimentally drive a JATO-assisted 1972 Chevy Impala into a circus truck full of monkeys because if it does cause the “Planet of the Apes” scenario, everyone will be mad at me, including me myself. Thus, I instead tried the experiment on a smaller scale.
First, I obtained the smallest monkey, a Tarsier, and then bough a remote control car from radio shack. I placed the monkey and the car in an empty room so there was nowhere for the monkey to climb away, and then started chasing him with the car. You should have seen the little thing screech and run away! It was hilarious! He was two slow to outrun the car, though, so I kept bumping him. He’d then make these angry little monkey sounds and try and run away again. But SMACK! I’d get him again. Sometimes he’d get a breather because I’d fall to the ground laughing. I really should have filmed the experiment. So what was I trying to prove again?
Heh heh… monkeys are funny.

Please keep the questions coming, <a href=”mailto:THISISSPAMTHISISSPAMace you’re from, I’ll randomly select one.

Frank Tips for Meeting With Jacques Chirac

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President Bush will be meeting with Jacques Chirac today for the first time since the war, so I have some tips for him about the meeting:
* Start by working the body. You’ll want to start slow, which means a series of punches to his gut.
* Use object in the room around you. This doesn’t just mean to pick up those objects and break them over Chirac, put to also use Chriac’s head to break objects that are too big to pick up.
* Make sure to build up some momentum before smashing his head into the wall. You’ll need some good momentum to leave a nice impression in the drywall.
* Avoid the sleeper hold. It’s pointless if he’s unconscious.
* Remember your joints. Joints such as your knee and elbow make great blunt weapons. Don’t forget to use them.
* Use your body weight. Eventually it will become tiresome to keep propping Chirac up. Then you may want to do some elbow drops on him.
* When he is down, Texas Two-Step. Like I have to remind you.
* This isn’t boxing; all blows are legal. Some may say it’s unsporting to go for the groin, but I say it makes a nice finale after you’ve thoroughly beaten him through other means.
In the end, diplomacy is a fluid thing, and you really have to read the other party and adjust your strategy according. Just don’t be afraid to be creative. Godspeed, Mr. President.

Links of the Day

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Maripat has more courage than me about talking about serious issues involving oneself. So far, I like to keep this a very non-personal blog.
I don’t agree with everything Venomous Kate says about e-mails, but I do find it hard to respond to all the e-mails I get. I don’t know how Volokh does it.
Bill Quick is going to be trying his hand at moving property in the San Francisco area. Congrats on passing the real estate exam, Bill.
Emperor Misha I has an actual news story about a terrorist attack.
Finally, have you pre-ordered your t-shirt yet?

Frank Answers: Meat Eating Vegans, Job Advice, and Electrical Engineering is Sweet

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WWWaylon from Spielmeck, Lintuvia asks:
If a vegan ate a double cheeseburger, would he or she die?
The best way to answer this question was to trick a vegan into eating a double-cheeseburger. I simply told one vegan that it was in fact a veggie burger with soy cheese. He expressed doubt, saying it looked too edible for that to be true, but I was able to convince him that it was a brand new product that used special soy and lentil mixtures to make a food-like substance that wasn’t disgusting. He fell for it, and chowed down the burger. No effects were immediately observed.
I then thought, perhaps knowledge of it being real meat would work as a catalyst. So I informed the vegan, “Hey, that was a real burger made with real cow and cheese from actual cow milk stolen from cows!”
He was horrified, and then blathered on and on about how horrible we are to animals and how much better it is to be a vegan and be one with nature. It got so annoying, I finally punched him, knocking two of his teeth out.
So, eating a double cheeseburger will not kill a vegan, but it will cause injury.
Tal from Chicago, IL asks:
I’m graduating from college in a few weeks and I don’t have a job. What should I do?
Not knowing your degree, it’s hard to say. I’d recommend back-up rap singer. All you do is say, “Yeah!” and “Uh-huh!” at appropriate intervals while someone else does all the complicated part of rapping. Sounds like little work, and you get all the hos you want.
Nathan Edmonton, Alberta writes:
It’s pretty cool that you are a Catholic (I think) engineer like me, but why did you pick the second-nerdiest discipline (electrical)? Everyone knows that civils are much cooler and get all the chicks.
Yes I am a Catholic, but I disagree with you on the discipline of electrical engineering. It’s so sweet. You see, I’m a digital engineer, and all I have to know is how to add the numbers 1 and 0 together and I get paid mad money. It’s so easy.
0 + 0 = 0
1 + 0 = 1
1 + 1 = …uh I guess I forgot that one. Well, I probably won’t need it on the next circuit I make.
Ah, who am I kidding? I just drink coffee most the day.
Finally, the question on everyone’s mind:
When will there be the continuation of In My World: Black Project Insano?
The continuation will be at the next regularly scheduled In My World™, which is Monday. So, will Buck be successful in his fight against the Lintuvians? What is Black Project Insano, and can anyone stop Condoleezza Rice from using it to take over the world? And can Ari keep everything hidden from the wily and sexy Fox News reporter? Find the answers to these questions and more plus a special guest appearance by Michael Moore on Monday.

Please keep the questions coming, <a href=”mailto:THISISSPAMTHISISSPAMace you’re from, I’ll randomly select one.

Fire… BAD!

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A fire caused Hosting Matters to be down most of the day, but it looks like I’m back. I worked long and hard on today’s In My World™ (number one of at least a two-parter), and it is finally viewable again, so I’m just going to leave that as the sole post (other than this one) and maybe do some more Frank Answers™ tomorrow afternoon.
Carnival of the Vanities was up, then went down with everyone else, and is up again.
UPDATE: Hell, one more thing. The Nuke the Moon shirts are available for pre-order now.

Thanks to Fritz for the graphic.

In My World: Black Project Insano Part I

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Jacques Chirac sat in his office contemplating how superior he was to all other foreign leaders, when suddenly the phone rang. “Hello?”
“Hey… uh… this is Pierre. You know… Pierre.”
“Oh, hello, Pierre. How are you?”
“I’m great.”
“You’re not sounding very French today.”
“I have a cold. Anyway, I was looking for Chezz. Do you know him?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Well, he should be with two other people somewhere near your office. The other two are Sue and Norm. If you could get them for me, I’d appreciate it.”
“Certainly. Just to be clear, though, what are their last names?”
“Well, Chezz’s last name is Eaton. Sue’s last name is… uh… I can’t remember. But I know, Norm’s; it’s Unkies.”
“Unkies?”
“Yeah, I don’t what nationality that name is.”
“Well, I’ll go see if I can find them.”
“Thanks Jacque-strap; you’re a real help.”
Chirac took his cordless phone with him as he headed out into the main lobby. “Are you Chezz Eaton, Sue, and Norm Unkies?” he asked the first group he saw. He then shouted out, “Are there Chezz Eaton, Sue, and Norm Unkies here? Someone check the nearby military base for Chezz Eaton, Sue, and Norm Unkies!”
Everyone started laughing.
“Oh, it’s you again!” Chirac said angrily into the phone, “When I find out who this is, I’ll impotently demand to you to stop!”
The only response was more laughter.

“Oh, that was classic,” Bush chuckled as he hung up the phone. “Aren’t you going to miss this when you leave, Ari?”
“Hey, man, I told you; I have to follow my heart,” Ari Fleischer replied, “I just know my band ‘American Hellbender’ is going to take off big with its mix of reggae, techno, and country done to a new age beat.”
“Can we get to the business at hand?” Condoleezza Rice demanded angrily, “There are lots of evil nations out there, and they aren’t going to bomb themselves! Well, maybe North Korea is crazy enough to do that… but we can’t count on it!”
“Fine. So who should we attack next, Rumsfeld?”
“See this map here?” Rumsfeld said, walking up to a large map on the wall. Suddenly he shouted “Rarr!” and started ripping away the map until finally nothing was left except for the U.S. He then stuffed the pieces of the map into a wastebasket and set them on fire.
“As your Secretary of State,” Colin Powell stated, “I’d like to point out that there might be some disadvantages to destroying all other countries.”
“You weak willed liberal!” Rumsfeld screamed, “You’re on the terrorist’s side!” He then tried to lunge at Powell who ran out of the room while Rice and Ari tried to hold Rumsfeld back. Rumsfeld eventually calmed down and returned to his seat.
“So, have any smaller plans for who we fight next?” Bush asked.
“I do,” Rice replied, “Ever heard of the small island country of Lintuvia?”
“No,” Bush answered, “but yesterday was the first time I heard of Brazil.”
“Well it’s a small, isolated island dictatorship in the Indian Ocean,” Rice continued, “and an easy target.”
“What have they done to us?”
“What have they done for us?” Rice responded, “Anyway, it’s great testing ground for our new military weapon: Black Project Insano!”
“Wow! That sounds cool!” Bush exclaimed, “What is it?”
“Well, I don’t really know…” Rice admitted, “I just know it’s our greatest project ever… but the exact details are beyond my security clearance.”
“What about mine? I’m the president.”
“Even beyond yours,” Rice told him.
“What about you, Rumsfeld?”
“I just don’t give a rat’s ass.”
“So who does know?” Bush asked.
“That’s also classified beyond our level,” Rice said.
“Wait,” Bush suddenly exclaimed, “I think I do know who knows.”
“Yes, you were fooled into knowing who knows,” Rice explained, “That’s part of Black Project Insano.”
“Am I supposed to know that I was fooled?”
“Yes, you have the clearance to know that the one you think you know who knows, doesn’t actually know. That was a bit of an oversight.”
“So who actually knows who knows what Black Project Insano is?”
“That is also too classified.”
“So who knows who knows who knows what Black Projext Insano is?”
“Dick Cheney.”
“Ah, so we have to find Dick.”
“This is idiotic,” Rumsfeld commented, “Can’t we just bomb countries and shoot people as normal?”
“Do not underestimate the power of Black Project Insano!” Rice shot back, “First we test it on Lintuvia, and then the world will be mine!” She started laughing evilly, but then noticed everyone staring at her. “Uh… I mean the world will be at peace and run by the U.S.”
“I’m going to look for Dick Cheney,” Bush said. He then went to the door of the conference room and shouted out, “Laura! Is Dick in one of the cupboards in the kitchen?”
“Honey, I can’t always be finding Cheney for you,” Laura answered.
“Did you forget where you undisclosed him again?” Rice asked angrily.
“Uh… no.”
“Remember, he was with us at the mall this afternoon,” Ari said.
“Oh, then we just have to wait for him to drive back,” Bush answered.
“But, dude, we drove him.”
“Oh man!” Bush exclaimed, “I stranded Dick at the mall again. He’s going to be all angry and having heart attacks.”
“We’ll send someone to get him,” Rice stated, “Now we need to send a Special Forces group to clear Lintuvia of any resistance.”
“I know who you should send,” Rumsfeld said.
“Who?” Bush asked.
“Buck.”
“Buck who?”
“Buck… the Marine!”

“Hello, Buck here – Buck the Marine that is… This is the president? President of what? …The United State of America! That’s the best thing to be president of. So what can I do for you, sir? …You want me to do a mission in Lintuvia? Are their foreigners there? …Then they’re dead! Now I just need you to give me some supplies… What do you mean I have to buy my own bullets? …You can’t afford bullets for me so you could have a tax cut for the rich! That doesn’t seem right… Well, yes, I guess rich people do deserve the money they earn, and that they do contribute a lot to society through investments and creating new jobs… and it was selfish of me to think of myself when they were being overtaxed… Yes, I’ll do that. I’ll write and apology to the local Millionaire’s club before I head out… Yes, that to, I’ll be more happy for what I have: my free room and board and my fifty dollars a month salary… What do you mean you want me to pay rent now! How much tax cuts do rich people need? …That makes me so mad I could kill people! …Yes, I guess that is good timing. I’ll get ready for the mission.”

“Funny I have to leave now,” Ari said at the press conferences, “just as I’ve finally figured out how to handle Helen Thomas.” He took out a laser pointer. “Get the red dot, Helen! Get it!”
Helen chased the laser point. “That red dot is mine!” She eventually followed it until it made her jump out the window.
“So, any questions?” Ari said as he put away the laser pointer.
“What this we hear about ‘Black Project Insano’?”
Ari fiercely grabbed the reporter. “WHO TOLD YOU?” Ari screamed at the top of his lungs. He then noticed everyone was looking at him with fright. He gently set the reporter back down and patted him on the shoulder. “I mean, what a ridiculous thing. I’ve never heard of any… whatever it was you just said. That’s just some crazy fiction you probably read about in the Weekly World News or the New York Times.”
“I have a question,” said the Fox News reporter. “Iran is reportedly harboring al Qaeda terrorists, so why haven’t we marched in there and hung those supposedly responsible by their own entrails? Is it because the Bush administration sympathizes with terrorists, or is it because you’re all a bunch of pussies?”
“Well… uh… the diplomatic way to do this…”
“And my follow up question,” she continued, “Is whether you think it’s apt to describe your departure from the Bush administration by using the analogy of rats fleeing a sinking ship… with one of those rats being grotesque and balding.”
“Now you’re just being mean,” Ari said angrily, “and… and… are you wearing a bikini?”
“Producer’s idea; these press conferences don’t get very good ratings.” She then listened to something coming in from her earpiece. “No I’m not going to jump up and down when I ask questions!”
“You know, at CNN we have higher journalistic integrity,” proudly said a CNN reporter.
“You’re only talking to me like that because you know I don’t have anywhere to conceal a gun!” the Fox News reporter shot back angrily. “We’re the number one news channel for a reason.” She then listened to a new message coming from her earpiece. “No I won’t take my top off!”
A Secret Service agent walked up to Ari. “It’s time.”
“Uh, I’m going to go hide out in a five mile deep underground shelter for no particular reason,” Ari announced, “So this press conference is over.”
“Maybe I’ll mud wrestle another reporter,” the Fox News reporter said as she listened to her earpiece, “But we have to renegotiate my contract first.”
TO BE CONTINUED…

Frank Answers: Rocks God Can’t (Won’t?) Lift, Netscape, and I Like Punch’n

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Richard Z. from Kang, Botswana writes:
I was just wondering the other day if God is all-powerful then He can lift
any rock. But if he is all-powerful then He should be able to make a rock
even He couldn’t lift. Which leads me to my question: What is the best way
to make a hippy scream in pain?
I’d say it would be for God to drop a giant rock on a hippy’s foot. Then the hippy would be like, “Whoa! This is harshing my mellow! Please lift this rock, God!”
And God would be like, “Sorry, dude, the rock is too big; I can’t lift it.”
“But you’re God! You can do anything!”
And God would get all angry. “I know Who I am! You don’t tell Me Who I am!”
Then God would take another swig of His divine whiskey and smite more monkeys.
Susie from Cape May, Finland:
Frank, why is it that IE displays your web page perfectly, but Netscape shows it all funky like?
I use Netscape sometime from work, so I realize this problem. Unfortunately, Microsoft paid me a large amount of money to make my website inconvenient to Netscape users. They also threatened my family. So, what was I supposed to do?
Now just give in and only use Microsoft products like the rest of us.
Jay Solo from Quincy, Massachusetts:
Can’t we all just get along?
Well, if we all got along, who the hell would I punch? Duh.

Please keep the questions coming, <a href=”mailto:THISISSPAMTHISISSPAMace you’re from, I’ll randomly select one.

Destable Is Where You Put Dehorses

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People are calling for a regime change in Iran, figuring the best way to do it is to destabilize the government since there are so many pro-America people in Iran. But what are some good ways to destabilize something?
* Shaking It Up: Once when I was eight, I mistook my ant farm for my Etch-a-Sketch and totally shook it up (I don’t know what was in the Kool-aid that day). As a result, that ant community was totally destabilized. Similarly, we could shake up Iran using a weapon that causes earthquakes like in the movie The Core which I heard about but didn’t see because it sounded stupid.
* Ridiculing Leaders: Their government would collapse if no one respected the leaders. What we should do is when one of their crazy religious types appears live on T.V., we should have someone run up, yank his beard, and run away. Then everyone would be like, “Hey! Look at the stupid beardo! Let’s throw rocks at him!” Total destabilization!
* Sword of Damocles: You know how they say we can have cruise missiles fly through windows and down streets without hitting anything other than the intended target, well let’s like constantly do that. Have cruise missiles flying all over town, obeying traffic laws and doing loop-de-loops to impress the kids… but not hitting anything. That is, unless Iran’s leaders piss us off, because then the cruise missile will merge onto the highway, take exit 16, make the first right (is there right on red in Tehran?), and then fly straight into the capitol building.
* Massive Doses of Radiation: If I remember right, massive doses of radiation will destabilize a substance. But how do you deliver massive doses of radiation to a country…
* Phat Beats: We could airdrop Beastie Boys CD’s on Iran, and, when everyone is playing “Intergalactic Planetary”, “Fight For Your Right to Party”, and “Brass Monkeys”, everything will totally destabilize. It will be kick ass!
Well, that all the ideas I have right now. Now let’s destabilize!

Help Some Troops This Memorial Day

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Happy Memorial Day, but, more to the point, there are some troops who could use your help. Kevin reports from an Undisclosed Middle Eastern Country™ that they had a fire at his base, causing 29 soldier and 12 Marines (maybe one of them was Buck) to lose whatever they didn’t have on them at the time. He has put up a paypal donation button, so go over there and give our troops a little help.

Links of the Day

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Tim Blair has finally moved from blogspot, thanks to Andrea Harris. When will Volokh finally follow suit? You just can’t be that popular and still be on blogspot. Hell, I’d be grateful to host his blog myself. It could be called “The Volokh Conspiracy Plus One Idiot”.
Roger L. Simon (a different person than Laurence Simon as James Taranto learned) has tips for negotiating with Uday Hussein.
On the Fritz is on fire. You really should be checking them out every day, but here are three posts I thought were particularly good. Here’s Fritz own guide to the Homeland Security Alert levels. I just love the last couple lines to the red level. Also, the picture to this article is hilarious (well, so is the article). Also, Frank predicts the future of the final two American Idol contestants.

Letterman Plagarizes IMAO!

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Here is now the greatest scandal of plagiarism, even eclipsing Jayson Blair’s foibles with the New York Times.
Here is a quote from an In My World™ post dated January 19, 2003:

“I think the president welcomes the fact that we are a democracy and people in the United States, unlike Iraq, are free to protest and to make their case known,” said Whitehouse Press Secretary Ari Fleischer at a press conference, never once looking up from the Gameboy Advance in his hands.
“But what about the protestors who were beaten with their own ‘No Blood for Oil’ signs by men who claimed to have been paid by the Whitehouse?” asked one reporter.
“I think the president welcomes the fact that we are a democracy and people in the United States, unlike Iraq, are free to yadda yadda yadda,” Fleischer responded, now staring at the Gameboy quite intensely, apparently fighting a boss monster in the game Metroid Fusion that he was playing.

And here is one of the entries from “Top Ten Signs Ari Fleischer Doesn’t Care Anymore” that appeared on Letterman on May 20th:

8. Gives monosyllabic answers to press questions, then goes back to his Gameboy

The only logical explanation for this is that the Late Show with David Letterman is ripping me off without credit!
Ah, who am I kidding; it’s probably a coincidence. But wouldn’t it be cool if it weren’t? Then all I need to Conan O’Brien to steal my material and my life would be complete.

Frank Answers: The Sun, REMF, and Imaginary Numbers

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Jason Hannemann from Austin, Texas asks
Is it just me or is the Sun just a big orange bully in the Solar
System?
God I hate the Sun. I’m still peeling from the sunburn I got a couple weeks ago in Miami. So far, I’ve never heard any advantages about the sun, but I know it gets in my eyes and drives up my electric bill from me having to use AC. And think of all the cool places we could go if the Earth was allowed to float free through the galaxy instead of being pinned in an orbit around the egotistical Sun.
The Sun is not that large for a star, so it probably has an inferiority complex which is why it’s such a bully. As soon as I figure out how, I will destroy the sun, and I will be known as Frank, Destroyer of Suns. And I will be feared.
Kevin from an Undisclosed Middle Eastern Country™ asks:
If I’m not paying state or fed taxes because I’m in an area designated as a warzone (Undisclosed Middle Eastern Country™) does that make me a warrior or am I still a REMF?
Good question. To know more, I’d have to ask have you been in a firefight? Have you been near a firefight? Have you heard gunshots in the distance at least? Do you regularly carry a firearm?
Then again, you’re in an Undisclosed Middle Eastern Country™, while I’m here in my office eating pizza, so in comparison you seem like freak’n Rambo. And, once you get back to the states, you can walk around in your uniform and tell all the women any stories you want, and they’ll have to believe them.
“So one day three Iraqis, real mean Baath party members, charge at me. Big mistake. I take them out with a series of kung-fu moves, finally grabbing their leader from behind and snapping his neck like a tooth pick. A fight like that made me hungry, and luckily it was now lunchtime. The side today was tater-tots covered in gravy, and damn was that good. Now give me some sugar, baby.”
Alan Forrester from Oxford, England asks:
What is an imaginary number?
Pure crap is the short answer. No number can be squared and remain negative, so some mathematician made up this number i one day, but who gives a rats ass? Other mathematicians, I guess. Other than to those freaks, it’s completely useless.
Okay, so I remember using imaginary numbers in my college class on analog circuits for these things called phazons or phasors, but we engineers just made use of i so the mathematicians wouldn’t feel so useless (even though they are).
I’ll admit it, the reason I’m so down on imaginary numbers is that they don’t let you make up your own. Why can the square root of -1 be an imaginary number, but not one divided by zero. I’d call it imaginary number x. But my eighth grade math teacher told me, “No, you can’t make your own imaginary number. Stop trying to divide things by zero.”
And I was like, “You fking bitch! You don’t tell me what to do. I’ll fking kill you!”
And then the whole math class tackled me and tried to pry the compass from my hand, but the devil was in me and there was no stopping me. Finally the bell rang, though, and it was time for recess.
Saved by the bell, Mrs. Glogowski. Saved by the bell.

Please keep the questions coming, <a href=”mailto:THISISSPAMTHISISSPAMace you’re from, I’ll randomly select one.