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Contemplaydoh

Food for thought (if Ho Hos and Ding Dongs count as food)
May 31

Guest post

Just in case a real live human ever stops by again* looking for sarcasm and inanity posing as erudition, I can direct you to this.  It's a guest entry of mine at the Random Reviewer website on no less a topic than the future of all mankind.
 
*as opposed to Yahoo, Google, or Baidu algorithms checking out Mary Kate Olsen's picture
January 21

Crossword challenge

 
So here's another post that's not really a post.  After all, Contemplaydoh is retired, remember.  Anyway, this is an invitation to any blog friends Susan and I might still have out there who'd like to challenge themselves with a crossword puzzle I put together.  It's part of a tradition I've had of "alternative" form letters around this time of the year.  Here's a sample clue (and if you can't get this one, you probably shouldn't bother with the rest):  "Source of everything there is to be known about Kazakhstan ... not."
 
If this seems like your kind of thing, and you know us well enough to tolerate a few our idiosyncrasies, I'd be happy to mail you a copy.  Just write to steve at matcap dot com to let me know.  Good luck if you do!
December 06

What movie features this line?

"It just so happens that your friend here is only mostly dead."
 
No, this is not an announcement that contemplaydoh is back.  I am, however, slightly alive with a guest blog entry here at randomreviewer.  If you're not familiar with that site, it's run by 3 funny, quirky, slightly edgy guys who have as their stated goal to review everything eventually.  Their scattershot approach to such a big job allows random guest reviewers to get into the act at times, too.  My topic is "Minced Oaths."  Don't know what those are?  Well shucks, you're just gonna have to read to find out then, aren't ya.
May 03

The Contemplaydoh Code

Steve, in one of his more lucid moments, made me promise to honor a request which I will now endeavor to do.  I’m puzzled by the significance of it – to my eye it looks like utter nonsense – but a promise is a promise.  The favor he asked was for me to make a post to his blog.  He said he couldn’t do it any more.  As you’ll see, there may be cause for concern about his mental state.  He seemed, at times, to be speaking gibberish, but he made me swear to transcribe his cryptic words verbatim.  (See below.)  Then he began talking like an economist which to my way of thinking was even less intelligible.

 

The first economic principle he babbled about was allocation of scarce resources and how this related to his portfolio of interests.  Then he talked about opportunity costs.  This evidently measures the costs and benefits of choosing one path by comparing it to another path that you could have chosen instead.  I got the impression he was talking about his blog and he was sad to realize that it was taking too much away from other aspects of his life that are important to him.

 

I suppose I can understand that, but then he went off on one of his weird tangents.  After mentioning paradoxes and metaphors pertaining to his mixed emotions, he mixed things up even more by taking SCRABBLE tiles and spelling out the following phrase. 

 

NONE OF KNOWN ESTEEM HUSH A HAPPY VALEDICTORY

 

Now Steve’s language rarely has a simple flow to it, but this sounded funny even by his standards.  He explained that it had a hidden meaning.  The phrase he really wanted me to convey on his blog had a word pattern like this:

 

_ _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _! 

_   _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _.

 

“I don’t have a clue what you’re going for here,” I told him.  “OK,” he said, “here are some hints to help you with the longest word – the third one from the end.”  He then took a subset of the tiles and rearranged them in a variety of ways, saying the clues were somewhat self-referential.  Here were the phrases he spelled out:

 

NO-EMPATHY CLOD

NOT A COMELY PHD

PLY A CON METHOD

NOODLE A PC MYTH

MACE PHONY DOLT

HELD ON TO CAMPY

HE CAN MOLD TYPO

LOATHED ON MY PC

PLAN TECHY DOOM

END MY LOCO PATH

HAD EMPTY COLON

DOPY MATH CLONE

END TO MY PC HALO

 

That might help, I figured, but I knew there were still a lot of blanks.  “Can I buy a vowel?” I asked.

 

“Sure,” he said.  “You can have ‘em all, but I’m going to make you earn them.”  Then he put together what he described as a Little Orphan Vanna secret decoder.  It just looked like a bunch of math to me, but he swore that if you follow the instructions, you would get your own personalized number-to-letter translator. 

  1. Start by concatenating your birth year and month. (e.g., 197405 for May of ‘74)
  2. Add the last digit of your home phone number.  (e.g., if it’s 8, then 197405 + 8 = 197413)
  3. Subtract 1 if you are male; add 1 if you are female.
  4. Add the number of maniacs in the band Natalie Merchant fronted. (Hint: it’s the smallest 5 digit number possible)
  5. Add the dollar amount if you had a c-note for every year you’ve been alive. (No fair giving yourself extra money for partial years – if you’re 35 and a half, that’s $3500.)
  6. Add the year we’ll celebrate the next new millennium.

The first 3 digits of this number correspond to the first three vowels:  A, E, and I.

  1. For the second set of vowels, start with the number of stars on the US flag.
  2. Subtract the number that George Costanza wanted to name his first child (in deference to Mickey Mantle).  If you didn’t catch that episode, it’s also the number of dwarfs in Snow White and the number of deadly sins.
  3. Take this result and multiply it by the number trophies won by Manchester United in 1999.  If you’re not a fan and need a hint, think of blind mice or little pigs.
  4. Multiply the result from the previous step by the number of toes on a standard human foot.

 

The 3 digit result corresponds to the remaining vowels:  O, U, and Y.

 

Using your decoder, you can fill in the numbered blanks with the appropriate letters.

 

_ _ 2 _ _ _   1 _ 1 _ 5 6 _ 1! 

3   _ 6 _ 1   _ 6 _ _ 1 _ _ _ 2 5 _ 6 _   _ 2 _   _ 4 _.

 

OK, for what it’s worth, I’ve hereby honored his request.  And hey, remember I’m just the messenger.

 

Steve’s friend,

 

Ted Finverses

 

p.s., I thought I’d also report that two other friends of Steve, legal partners Ned Fretsvise and Sid Ventsfree, were hoping to convince a court of law that Dan Brown had borrowed extensively from Steve’s previous anagrammatic devices and that some of those ample royalties should be shared.

 

p.p.s., When I asked him if this was it, and if so, why no grand farewells or blazes of blog glory, he said that was part of his problem – he was always shooting for stars beyond his reach.  After I scolded him for mixing his celestial metaphors, he explained that his readers had grown accustomed to such twists of expression.  He then went on to say that it somehow seemed more appropriate to leave with a mixed up mishmash of mumbo jumbo since that was more consistent with the contemplaydoh theme.

 

p.p.p.s., I think he’s going to miss this blogging business (the process and the people) even more than he imagines.

 

April 28

Who Am I? (Round 2)

It’s time once again to play the popular new game that’s sweeping the nation.  Here’s how it works.  Mystery guests stop by and give clues that reveal their secret identities.  At first the hints may seem obscure and unhelpful, but they get easier.  The goal is to figure out who the mystery guest is using the fewest clues possible.  Keep a count of the clues you needed for each guest and post it in the comment section to see how you compare.

 

Guest #1

  1. Are you sure you want to play?  It looks like someone has revealed my name already.
  2. My father was a proper Englishman.  In fact, he was a Baron.  Mom was American, though, and I was born in the Big Apple.
  3. I’m more famous for my acting, but I also spent time in the House of Lords from ’96 to ’99 (after my father passed away and before the act that barred most of us from our seats through peerage).  Fair enough, I say.
  4. In two of my best roles, extra digits were featured.
  5. My wife, Jamie Lee, and I have adopted two children.
  6. I named nuts as Harlan Pepper in Best in Show, and sang about butts as Nigel Tufnel in Spinal Tap.

                                     Click here to verify.

 

Guest #2

  1. I, too, have an English father and an American mother.
  2. Dad is famous for his singing.
  3. Mom is famous for her work on the silver screen.
  4. My little brother and I both have names you can find in the Old Testament.
  5. Some would consider my name to be juicy tabloid fodder.
  6. If Mom and Dad ever wanted to collaborate artistically, they could call it Shakespeare in Love at the Speed of Sound.

                                   Click here to verify.

 

Guest #3

  1. I never really cared for Guest #2’s first name.
  2. If I ever got Lasik surgery, people might not recognize me.
  3. I’m one of the better known Harvard dropouts in the world today.
  4. Before spam blockers I was receiving an average of 4,000,000 e-mails a day, many offering advice on how to get rich quick.
  5. My wife Melinda and I shared honors with Bono as Time’s Persons of the Year in 2005.
  6. Paul Allen and I were in high school when we formed a small software company.  Later we put together a bigger one.

                                 Click here to verify.

 

April 25

Cheekiness

What is it about Katie Couric that makes CBS believe she’s the right person to step into Walter Cronkite’s old time slot thereby leading the Chiffon Revolution?  (I went with Chiffon because I’m told it’s light and gauzy…and Velvet was taken anyway.)  Most would point to her famous perkiness.  In fact, if you google ‘Katie Couric perky’, you get 114,000 hits, so it must be a big part of who she is.  I’ve been formulating a theory, though, that could explain even more of her popular appeal.  It has to do with Katie’s facial features which, I posit, give her a higher likeability quotient.  The bulk of that comes from her cheeks. 

 

Ceteris paribus, we seem to favor roundedness.  I also submit that the converse holds true.  Hollow cheeks are not viewed as charitably.  My natural tendency would be to construct numerical measures of cheekiness over a range of individuals to see how they correlate with survey results of how well the subjects are perceived.  However, since these values would be difficult to come by, I’ll hope to convince you using a long list of examples instead.

 

Before I start, I’ll confess to a certain self-centered interest in the topic.  While I’ve been called cheeky before, it’s not because I have cheeks.  I have skin on both sides of my mouth, but there’s nothing that puffs out.  When I was a kid, Aunt Evelyn was frustrated to find nothing on my face to pinch.  Clio and The Girl, on the other hand, are blessed with ample cheeks – evidence that the theorized view is, in some cases, correct.

 

Are there well-known archetypes who motivate this perception?  Sure.  I’ll lead off with an obvious example.  On the likeable end of the spectrum, you can hardly imagine a more popular figure than jolly old St. Nick – always quick with the “ho ho hos”, never too harsh judging naughty or nice.  At the opposite end sits one of the most odious, murderous villains of our day:  Osama Bin Laden.  He’s all the more galling with that self-righteous tone.  Note that both men have beards, so we can’t claim that as a differentiating factor.

  

Before you start spouting off about the evidence being anecdotal (based on small samples) consider a collection of other full-faced individuals and contrast them with cheek-deprived counterparts.  Ask yourself which set has more of a reputation for charm, amity, and kindness? 

  

  

Oprah was poor and abused as a child and now she gives away cars.  What’s not to like there?  Shirley Temple was the talented child star who apparently managed to stay nice even in older age.  Up until the point where Sally Field said to the Oscar audience, “You like me, you really like me!” we probably really did like her.  Flying nuns typically don’t carry much in the way of negatives, after all.  Al Roker is a weather man, on in the mornings.  Networks don’t exactly go for surly meteorologists in that role.  Melissa McCarthy (Sookie) may be a little ditzy, but is an engaging character nonetheless.  Finally, Captain Kangaroo, a.k.a. Bob Keeshan, was a pleasant old guy I grew up with in the pre-Sesame Street era.  Don’t nobody be trashin’ the Captain. 

  

 

The thin-cheeked line-up is not exactly a rogues’ gallery, but they’ve been cast in unflattering light at times.  Donald Sutherland is a fabulous actor, and when he plays a bad guy, it’s with relative ease.  The Wicked Witch of the West had always had a bad reputation until the recent hit musical gave her some much needed positive PR.  Clint has played many roles, but his Dirty Harry character is arguably the most iconic -- he's a good guy in a bad-ass kind of way.  Speaking of bad, Keith Richards would likely be voted the baddest Rolling Stone (the bad boys of rock and roll).  His blood transfusions alone are legendary.  Kate Moss may have more lines to do before she’s in Keith’s league, but she has made more than a few headlines for her illicit habits.  Running the anchor leg is Howard Stern.  Now that he’s allowed to bleep around to his bleeping heart’s content, this bleeper can bleeping bleep with the audience until he’s bleeping blue in the face.

 

Side-by-side comparisons are also useful.  In the sporting realm, Martina and Chrissy were long-time rivals.  Maybe in the Czech Republic more people favored Martina, but I remember much greater fan support in general for the one with the puffier countenance. 

 

Fictional characters are interesting because their creators have infinite leeway in how to make them look.  I can’t bring myself to search for any of those little cherubs in the “Love is…” strip, but they were meant to epitomize the point.  Tweety is one I can bear presenting because the sappiness factor there is at least finite.  Serving as contrast, you have any number of cartoon villains.  Montgomery Burns is one case in point. 

 

Famous works of art are useful in the same way.  Which is more likely to elicit a positive response?  My money is on the kindly doctor in the Norman Rockwell painting.

   

Even if it’s just fur that proxies for cheeks, the theory holds.  We can’t say that the cute, quizzical tilt to the head is the difference either, can we.

  

A side-by-side comparison of the same individual can drive the point home even further.  Michael Jackson was such a nice looking kid before he became a freak. 

  

On the topic of adolescence, when you think more generally about puppies vs. dogs, kittens vs. cats, or young kids with their baby fat vs. older, wizened adults, the pattern is clear.  Maybe prominent cheeks remind us of the innocence and playfulness of youth.  Mary Kate Olsen is an interesting example because there weren’t as many years separating these pictures. 

  

Of course, anorexia is a serious matter, and it’s very sad when self-images become so distorted.  The topic of this photo essay, though, is how these face-types are perceived.  Which one of the two extremes looks to be having more fun?

 

Cheeks are not always a by-product of greater weight.  Gabrielle Union, Ming-Na Wen, and Parminder Nagra are all svelte, and they seem nice in that open-faced kind of way.  I admit, though, that I don’t know their on-screen personas very well.  That could alter our impressions.  (I do recall liking Parminder’s character in Bend It Like Beckham for what it’s worth.) 

   

On the whole, it seems rare to have round cheeks along with an emaciated body.  That might be another clue to understanding how our perceptions are formed.  The lean, mean fighting machine who is cranky because he’s hungry doesn’t exactly bring cuddles to mind.  Junkyard dogs know all about this.  On the other hand, the cliche on the heavier side of the scale is “fat and happy.”  I don’t think fat necessarily goes with happy, but in the back of some heads it may.

 

What seems less ambiguous is that ghouls, with their skin stretched tight against their skulls, have negative reputations.  The scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark when the Nazi suffers through his gruesome transmogrification is pretty unappealing.  Whatever cheeks the guy started with were certainly lost in the process, and it’s a grim association.

Sometimes even names are indicative.  Joey Cheek was the speed skater in the Olympics who became famous for donating the bonus money that the US Olympic Committee gave him for his gold and silver medals ($40,000 in all) to a charity formed by the great past champion from Norway, Johann Olav Koss.  Others followed suit.  John of Gaunt is the flip side of the coin.  From what I’ve read, he doesn’t seem like too bad a guy.  His father was King of England, as was his son, but he was just a Duke, albeit a rich and influential one.  Maybe the most damning thing I can say about his reputation, aside from a somewhat narrow visage, is that he’s the one that Shakespeare had deliver the England speech that school kids may have been forced to study:  “This happy breed of men, this little world, this precious stone set in the silver sea, which serves it in the office of a wall, or as a moat defensive to a house, against the envy of less happier lands, this blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.”

  

When I tried to think of examples in political circles, the analysis fell apart.  Might it be that in a domain where forward is backward, progressive is stagnant, and moral is antagonizing, that cheeks can be bad?  In a contest among world leaders, past and present, most everyone I know would choose Honest Abe over Jerk-face Jong-il (North Korea’s leader and foremost saber rattler).

  

I’ve performed a rigorous analysis, and it doesn’t look good for us gaunt-faced guys.  The bright side is that I now have an excuse when people don’t like me. 

 

Before hitting the “Publish” button (and praying that these pictures go through), I’m compelled to ask one final question:  Can a tongue in the cheek make it look bigger?

April 21

One joke over the line

Ruben, a guy I used to go running with, is well-known around these parts for his big personality and his practical jokes.  On a typical day heading down the block to our run route he might greet 10 people by name, and 9 of them could tell you a Gotcha story where Ruben was the jovial perpetrator.   

 

Cold-calling salesmen were special targets.  He would feign enthusiasm for their products only to dash their hopes in the end by telling them he’d love to sign up except that his wife had just run off with the checkbook and the TV repair man, or that he was being committed to the insane asylum later that day.  One time an insurance salesman was the hapless victim.  Ruben listened briefly to the spiel before blurting out with overplayed sincerity that the guy’s call was an absolute Godsend.  He then made up some tale of woe about how he’d lost his job and with it his insurance only to discover a few days later that he’d somehow contracted a neural disease that would render him deaf, dumb and blind.  Even before the salesman could think of a tactful way to bring up pre-existing conditions, the call was interrupted by the sound of sobbing.  Unbeknownst to Ruben, his young daughter was at the doorway listening in and was, of course, very upset.  That was the last of the phone pranks, but they were fun while they lasted.

 

 

Steve Hotopp

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At best, I'm a beta -- not quite the alpha dog and not quite the finished version.
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