Archive for August, 2006

docligot

Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex

This is not my material, although I wish it were. In the wake of the most recent movie, its got that offbeat tangential humor that I would like to aspire to. Meantime, I post it here for your reading pleasure.

Credit for it goes to science fiction writer, Larry Niven, who wrote the Man-Kzin Wars, which was also the basis for the sci-fi computer game series, Wing Commander (sheesh, how 90s…)

Superman_1I
What turns on a kryptonian?

Superman is an alien, an extraterrestrial. His humanoid frame is doubtless the result of parallel evolution, as the marsupials of Australia resemble their mammalian counterparts. A specific niche in the ecology calls for a certain shape, a certain size, certain capabilities, certain eating habits.

Be not deceived by appearances. Superman is no relative to homo sapiens.

What arouses Kal-El’s mating urge? Did kryptonian women carry some subtle mating cue at appropriate times of the year? Whatever it is, Lois Lane probably didn’t have it. We may speculate that she smells wrong, less like a kryptonian woman than like a terrestrial monkey. A mating between Superman and Lois Lane would feel like sodomy-and would be, of course, by church and common law.

II
Assume a mating between Superman and a human woman designated LL for convenience.

Either Superman has gone completely schizo and believes himself to be Clark Kent; or he knows what he’s doing, but no longer gives a damn. Thirty-one years is a long time. For Superman it has been even longer. He has X-ray vision; he knows just what he’s missing. (*One should not think of Superman as a Peeping Tom. A biological ability must be used. As a child Superman may never have known that things had surfaces, until he learned to suppress his X-ray vision. If millions of people tend shamelessly to wear clothing with no lead in the weave, that is hardly Superman’s fault.*)

The problem is this. Electroencephalograms taken of men and women during sexual intercourse show that orgasm resembles "a kind of pleasurable epileptic attack." One loses control over one’s muscles.

Superman has been known to leave his fingerprints in steel and in hardened concrete, accidentally. What would he do to the woman in his arms during what amounts to an epileptic fit?

Loislane_1 III
Consider the driving urge between a man and a woman, the monomaniacal urge to achieve greater and greater penetration. Remember also that we are dealing with kryptonian muscles.

Superman would literally crush LL’s body in his arms, while simultaneously ripping her open from crotch to sternum, gutting her like a trout.

IV
Lastly, he’d blow off the top of her head.

Ejaculation of semen is entirely involuntary in the human male, and in all other forms of terrestrial life. It would be unreasonable to assume otherwise for a kryptonian. But with kryptonian muscles behind it, Kal-El’s semen would emerge with the muzzle velocity of a machine gun bullet. (*One can imagine that the Kent home in Smallville was riddled with holes during Superboy’s puberty. And why did Lana Lang never notice that?*)

In view of the foregoing, normal sex is impossible between LL and Superman.

Artificial insemination may give us better results.

Test_tube V
First we must collect the semen. The globules will emerge at transsonic speeds. Superman must first ejaculate, then fly frantically after the stuff to catch it in a test tube. We assume that he is on the Moon, both for privacy and to prevent the semen from exploding into vapor on hitting the air at such speeds.

He can catch the semen, of course, before it evaporates in vacuum. He’s faster than a speeding bullet.

But can he keep it?

All known forms of kryptonian life have superpowers. The same must hold true of living kryptonian sperm. We may reasonably assume that kryptonian sperm are vulnerable only to starvation and to green kryptonite; that they can travel with equal ease through water, air, vacuum, glass, brick, boiling steel, solid steel, liquid helium, or the core of a star; and that they are capable of translight velocities.

What kind of a test tube will hold such beasties?

Kryptonian sperm and their unusual powers will give us further trouble. For the moment we will assume (because we must) that they tend to stay in the seminal fluid, which tends to stay in a simple glass tube. Thus Superman and LL can perform artificial insemination.

At least there will be another generation of kryptonians.

Or will there?

Fallopian_1 VI
A ripened but unfertilized egg leaves LL’s ovary, begins its voyage down her Fallopian tube.

Some time later, tens of millions of sperm, released from a test tube, begin their own voyage up LL’s Fallopian tube.

The magic moment approaches…

Can human breed with kryptonian? Do we even use the same genetic code? On the face of it, LL could more easily breed with an ear of corn than with Kal-El. But coincidence does happen. If the genes match…

One sperm arrives before the others. It penetrates the egg, forms a lump on it’s surface, the cell wall now thickens to prevent other sperm From entering. Within the now-fertilized egg, changes take place…

And ten million kryptonian sperm arrive slightly late.

Were they human sperm, they would be out of luck. But these tiny blind things are more powerful than a locomotive. A thickened cell wall won’t stop them. They will *all* enter the egg, obliterating it entirely in an orgy of microscopic gang rape. So much for artificial insemination.

But LL’s problems are just beginning.

Sperm VII
Within her body there are still tens of millions of frustrated kryptonian sperm. The single egg is now too diffuse to be a target. The sperm scatter.

They scatter without regard to what is in their path. They leave curved channels, microscopically small. Presently all will have found their way to the open air.

That leaves LL with several million microscopic perforations all leading deep into her abdomen. Most of the channels will intersect one or more loops of intestine.

Peritonitis is inevitable. LL becomes desperately ill.

Meanwhile, tens of millions of sperm swarm in the air over Metropolis.

VIII
This is more serious than it looks.

Consider: these sperm are virtually indestructible. Within days or weeks they will die for lack of nourishment. Meanwhile they cannot be affected by heat, cold, vacuum, toxins, or anything short of green kryptonite. (*And other forms of kryptonite. For instance, there are chunks of red kryptonite that make giants of kryptonians. Imagine ten million earthworm size spermatozoa swarming over a Metropolis beach, diving to fertilize the beach balls… but I digress.*) There they are, minuscule but dangerous; for each has supernormal powers.

Metropolis is shaken by tiny sonic booms. Wormholes, charred by meteoric heat, sprout magically in all kinds of things: plate glass, masonry, antique ceramics, electric mixers, wood, household pets, and citizens. Some of the sperm will crack lightspeed. The Metropolis night comes alive with a network of narrow, eerie blue lines of Cherenkov radiation.

Metropolis_1

And women whom Superman has never met find themselves in a delicate condition.

Consider: LL won’t get pregnant because there were too many of the blind mindless beasts. But whenever one sperm approaches an unfertilized human egg in its panic flight, it will attack.

How close is close enough? A few centimeters? Are sperm attracted by chemical cues? It seems likely. Metropolis had a population of millions; and kryptonian sperm could travel a long and crooked path, billions of miles, before it gives up and dies.

Several thousand blessed events seem not unlikely. (*If the pubescent Superboy plays with himself, we have the same problem over Smallville.*)

Several thousand lawsuits would follow. Not that Superman can’t afford to pay. There’s a trick where you squeeze a lump of coal into its allotropic diamond form…

IX
The above analysis gives us part of the answer. In our experiment in artificial insemination, we must use a single sperm. This presents no difficulty. Superman may use his microscopic vision and a pair of tiny tweezers to pluck a sperm from the swarm.

X
In its eagerness the single sperm may crash through LL’s abdomen at transsonic speeds, wreaking havoc. Is there any way to slow it down?

There is. We can expose it to gold kryptonite.

Gold kryptonite, we remember, robs a kryptonian of all of his supernormal powers, permanently. Were we to expose Superman himself to gold kryptonite, we would solve all his sex problems, but he would be Clark Kent forever. We may regard this solution as somewhat drastic.

But we can expose the test tube of seminal fluid to gold kryptonite, then use standard techniques for artificial insemination.

By any of these methods we can get LL pregnant, without killing her. Are we out of the woods yet?

XI
Though exposed to gold kryptonite, the sperm still carries kryptonian genes. If these are recessive, then LL carries a developing human foetus. There will be no more Supermen; but at least we need not worry about the mother’s health.

But if some or all of the kryptonian genes are dominant…

Can the infant use his X-ray vision before birth? After all, with such a power he can probably see through his own closed eyelids. That would leave LL sterile. If the kid starts using heat vision, things get even worse.

But when he starts to kick, it’s all over. He will kick his way out into open air, killing himself and his mother.

XII
Is there a solution?

There are several. Each has drawbacks.

We can make LL wear a kryptonite (*For our purposes, all forms of kryptonite are available in unlimited quantities. It has been estimated, from the startling tonnage of kryptonite fallen to Earth since the explosion of Krypton, that the planet must have outweighed our entire solar system. Doubtless the "planet" Krypton was a cooling black dwarf star, one of a binary pair, the other member being a red giant.*) belt around her waist. But too little kryptonite may allow the child to damage her, while too much may damage or kill the child. Intermediate amounts may do both! And there is no safe way to experiment.

A better solution is to find a host-mother.

Supergirl2 We have not yet considered the existence of a Supergirl. (*She can’t mate with Superman because she’s his first cousin. And only a cad would suggest differently.*) She could carry the child without harm. But Supergirl has a secret identity, and her secret identity is no more married than Supergirl herself. If she turned up pregnant, she would probably be thrown out of school.

A better solution may be to implant the growing foetus in Superman himself. There are places in a man’s abdomen where a foetus could draw adequate nourishment, growing as a parasite, and where it would not cause undue harm to surrounding organs. Presumably Clark Kent can take a leave of absence more easily than Supergirl’s schoolgirl alter ego.

When the time comes, the child would be removed by Caesarian section. It would have to be removed early, but there would be no problem with incubators as long as it was fed. I leave the problem of cutting through Superman’s invulnerable skin as an exercise for the alert reader.

The mind boggles at the image of a pregnant Superman cruising the skies of Metropolis. Batman would refuse to be seen with him; strange new jokes would circulate the prisons…and the race of Krypton would be safe

docligot

Care Bear

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Paredes told the Inquirer in an interview. “I’m happy I moved. No regrets.”

By now you’ve heard of the famous Jim Paredes expressing his dismay with the country, hence his leavetaking for the greener (literally) pastures of Australia. If not, here’s Gerry Lirio’s article in the inquirer:

http://newsinfo.inq7.net/inquirerheadlines/nation/view_article.php?article_id=16183

And Jim’s hasty scathing remarks:

http://haringliwanag.pansitan.net/2006/08/pick-up-feathers-you-jerk.html

In Carebear lingo, Gerry obviously fancies Jim as a Grumpy Bear:

F_grumpy_1

while Jim is actually more of a Do Your Best Bear, to hear him talk:

F_doyourbest

Frankly, I didn’t even know there was a Do Your Best Bear with a Kite on his tummy… Or maybe I blot him out intentionally from my childhood due to some repressed trauma. Although reading Jim’s blog really marks him as more of a Drama Bear–too bad they didn’t have one of those, I think.

Care ko. Care bear. By the way find out more about the Care bears:

http://www.care-bears.com/CareBears/html/about/index.html

Ever heard of True Heart Bear? I didn’t know he/she was an albino freak!

Nevertheless, I do insist in the purity and integrity in one’s intentions. Migrating, like adopting a religion–is something that everyone is entitled to for their personal enlightenment and gratification. However, I do draw the line at becoming preachy and invasive. Do whatever rocks your boat bub, but don’t bother me and expect me to take you word as gospel truth or otherwise.

Again, the contrarian part of me now thinks: now that we got sensational crap like this filling our newspapers and bandwith, it’s probably an advance sign that our country is actually on the road to recovery. Now all we need is for some more "personalities" to migrate and BAM, hello Philippines 2000!… or in this case 2007, or whatever year sounds "forward-thinking and progressive" to you.

Suggestions for further migratees (read: notorious drama bears and Ateneans like Jim): Kris Aquino, Boy Abunda, Erap… etc.

Hmm… that makes me Anarchist Bear? Or maybe Spelunker Bear… (hehe, private joke, sorry).

I believe in Karma what you give is what you get returned
I believe you can’t appreciate real love until you’ve been burned
I believe the grass is no more greener on the other side
I believe you don’t know what you’ve got until you say goodbye

- Savage Garden

docligot

Being Right

B11000_teasera Day 3 of the kick-back and let time pass project. Been catching enough zzzzss as promised, and kicked out of the flu in 24 hours. With no medication. Nice to know the immune system is still in gear.

I did get a call from the office on the relatively minor matter of an unsubmitted quarterly report. 5 minutes on the phone, a few witty remarks, and problem solved. I can only speculate the tone my staff received from Hongkong on this trivial issue. One of the first things you quickly learn in the corporate world, especially in a bank, is the fanatical formality of sending electronic memos.

All memos start frankly, and go one with a tone like you killed somebody, and you owe your childhood it to the sender, and ends sweet:

Such as:

Hi Doc,

My appended note of 11Jul06 refers.

We have to bring up top management up to speed on our pricing strategy. Kindly update the Personal Loan Portfolio financial model to reflect our performance for the full 12 month performance.

I will have a brief discussion with credit on risk concerns and would be grateful if you can sit in.

Regards.

Or:

Dear Dominic,

We do not seem to have received the abovecaptioned report as of even date.

Please submit by noon today or advise if there are any concerns.

Regards.

Take note, both of these notes are not from anyone I actually report to–or have any single bearing on my performance appraisal, or my salary increase. They did have a bearing on my personal sanity, however. I wasn’t a newbie to email when I entered the bank, but receiving the striking formal finality tone of these notes on a daily basis was grating to me. Interestingly, my rebellious streak would get the better of me and I was bucking the trend in no time:

Hey _____,

The answer to your question is no.

Or my personal favorite:

Dear ____,

??

I don’t know if my correspondents found these pokes at protocol amusing or not, but for some reason, the more I messed up memos, the more credibility I got. For me, I got a little kick out of it, especially when:

Dear Doc,

I really think…. <Followed by 5 long paragraphs of blah blah that could have been summarised in 1 sentence>…

What do you think?

Regards.

V_____

And I reply:

Dear V____,

Ok.

Regards.

Classic.

I may be wrong… which is why I think I probably will not last in my job much longer (despite my six years and going…). I will admit that I’ve spent a lot of my life, especially recently, doing the wrong thing. I only know it’s wrong because I’m usually beset by people around me who are doing something different–and presumably they are doing something right. It’s worse when they rub their "right" noses in my face doing further damage to my ego and sanity.

Ah well… back to reality. I’m on my break, so it’s time to kick back and relax. I’ll be dealing with these "right" people soon enough.

It’s Wrong To Be Right

Being "right" is based upon knowledge and experience and is often proveable.

Knowledge comes from the past so it’s safe. It’s also out of date. It’s the opposite of originality.

Experience is built from solutions to old situations and problems. The old situations are probably different from present ones, so that the old solutions likely bent to fit new problems, can possibly fit badly.

Also the likelihood is that, if you’ve got the experience, you’ll probably use it. This is lazy– experience is the opposite of being creative.

If you can prove you’re right, you’re set in concrete. You cannot move with the times or with other people. Being right is also being boring. Your mind is closed, you’re not open to new ideas. You’re rooted in your own "rightness" which is arrogant. Arrogance is a valuable tool, but only if used very sparingly.

Worst of all, being right has a tone of morality about it. To be anything else sounds weak or fallible, and people who are right would hate to be thought fallible.

So it’s wrong to be right because people who are "right" are rooted in the past, right-minded, dull, and smug.

There’s no talking to them.

- Anonymous

docligot

A Quick Trade and Cruel Intentions

I am on vacation leave today. Time to catch back those zzzzss I’ve been missing lately. Although I assured my team that my phone (both of them) is open for any inquiries, I really hope they don’t call anytime soon, at least not for work-related issues. It’s been a harrowing seven months for me–not because of work-related stress, but of burnout. The day job is pretty straightforward–finance in a bank usually is. But this year I was crazy enough to start two personal ventures: a mini call center and a property development company, at the same time also got back into stock trading by day, and currency trading by night…

Eurusd17aug064

On the bright side, at least for my vacation, made some USD220 last night on a quick trade against the Euro. That should give me some pocket money while I’m on leave. It’s probably not going to be enough for a really hot date… but then I’ve got a pile of DVDs to catch up on.

I did come home last night with a bad case of what’s shaping to be the flu. It’s probably just my body telling me not to push it since I’m technically on vacation.

Cruel_intentions_2

On the weird shit side, I got a message to add this guy:

http://www.friendster.com/31316049

Which I, after a little trepidation and deliberation, did, for "god-knows-what-reason". Perhaps indulging my taste for the bizaare.

He sent me the creepy message below after I did. Methinks the profile is just a fiendish prank by some marginalised groups who got some "god-knows-what-kinda-evil" from this guy and this is their way of getting even.

The whole approach is so… reserved but vindictive, so high-class devious, so upper crust, so… Cruel Intentions (can you say: "succulent"…).

Although Ryan Philippe the guy ain’t:

Aldwyn

… THANK YOU FOR ADDING ME.

Message: i am grateful that you added me.
i am truly remorseful most of the time.

but when my urge is awaken, no amount of logical suasion keeps me back and i go on the prowl and prey.

i just hope that by doing this, i am shamed and iam recognized especially if i go to citrus bar, embassy, jaipur, and the likes.

i can just go to girlie bars and pay my way,
but what gets me going are not those kind of girls.

the ones that do make me beastly with lusful desire are those that i think i can fool as they are young and looks gullible. and i choose the pretty ones ONLY!!!!

it starts with my taking pictures of them.

many do like the attention. and it starts from there.
i tell them that i am a talent scout or a movie director. i make out takes and then invite them to my place.

they get enthralled with my place. IT IS VERY NICE.
i offer them drinks laced with whatever that would have me having my way.

AND I TAKE PICTURES OF THEM NAKED IN THEIR unconscious state.

i am sick.

by this FRIENDSTER(as advised to me by a friend i confided in about my sickness , i do hope i am prevented or better AVOIDED by these girls.

THANK YOU. YOU ARE HELPING ME.

PLS TELL YOUR FRIENDS TO ADD ME. FOR MY SAKE AND THE SAKE OF UNSUSPECTING OTHERS!!!!!