Solange S'Orange

There are days I really feel good about my self.  Not today as I am sick as a dog.  If the dog had asthma, bronchitis and the voice of Rod Stewart. 

Well, until I saw this photo of Solange Knowles.

And suddenly I felt marginally better.

Who the hell let her out of the house looking like that?  Beyonce, did you do that?  Why you be hating like that?  Tina, you designed that dress, didn't you?  How many times must I tell you to get some Barbie dolls and stop inflicting your daughters with your fashion mishaps?

The girl is 22 and she looks like a 32-year-old, failed showgirl from Vegas.  Or a Miss Clueless beauty pageant.

Come on!  It's even worse as her elder sister actually looks classy and fresh next to her while she looks like a hot, tranny mess.

That orange rosette explosion of putridness should be ejected into space.  Except alien invasion will definitely happen light years from now when they mistake that for a hostile attack.

For the love of all that's holy, someone give that girl a makeover!

Social Viagra Treads Stepford Footprint

What next?  A pill for the terminally stupid to give them some semblance of cognitive thought?  I bet that would sell like hot cakes.

Will this lead to a Stepford planet now?  I can just see the ads for this.  

Are you a social moron?  Try Social Viagra to keep you up and perky night, noon and morn!

Be shy no more!  With Oxytocin, you can score!

Wanna be James Bond instead of James Scorned?  Use Oxytocin - they'd be shaken & stirred!

I think I just made myself ill ...

Shyness drug could boost confidence

By David Thomas

Last updated: 7:36 PM BST 22/06/2008

A drug that combats shyness and social awkwardness, dubbed "social Viagra", could be developed after scientists investigated a hormone released by new mothers.

Scientists in the US found that oxytocin, a natural hormone that assists childbirth and helps mothers bond with newborn babies, helps reduce anxiety and calm phobias.

There are also signs it may help people with autism.

Teams in the US, Europe and Asia are now racing to commercialise a drug based on the hormone, which can be produced synthetically.

Paul Zak, a professor of neuroscience at California's Claremont Graduate University, who has tested the hormone on hundreds of patients, said: "Tests have shown that oxytocin reduces anxiety levels in users. It is a hormone that facilitates social contact between people. What's more, it is a very safe product that does not have any side effects and is not addictive."

The research has been backed up by studies in other countries.

Researchers at Zurich University in Switzerland were able to ease symptoms of extreme shyness in 120 patients by giving them oxytocin hormone treatment half an hour before they encountered an awkward situation.

A spray of the hormone has also been successfully trialled at the University of New South Wales.

Millions of people in the UK suffer from shyness, and one-in-10 people say it seriously affects their daily life. Some resort to drink or illegal drugs to help overcome their awkwardness.

As well as being released by mothers after childbirth, the hormone is believed to make people more generous. Research shows that the higher the natural level of oxytocin people have in their brain, the more likely they are to give money to charity and act kindly towards strangers. It has also been shown to increase the level of monogamy in rodents.

There is speculation that oxytocin might be able to help new mothers who have trouble bonding with their babies or orphans whose mental scars from neglect make it hard for them to love adoptive parents.

It could have other commercial benefits. For instance, it could be sprayed in restaurants to put diners at ease, or be used as an alternative to tear gas to calm rioters.

Story from Telegraph News:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/northamerica/usa/2175030/Shyness-drug-could-boost-confidence.html

The Devil Wears Prada, The Pope Wears Down PETA

I did not even know this but apparently the current pope has been labelled as the "Prada Pope".  Our man was even included by Esquire in its best-dressed men's list!  Really???  I wonder if it is going to become a habit - bada ching!  Sorry.

And I thought he was German.  "Burda Pope" might be more appropriate, ja?  

Dude, you're a fashionista and I didn't even know it!  Maybe being Catholic can be hip instead of a target for bad quips.

But perhaps my ignorance was bliss as it turns out all to be total hogwash.  

And all because ye ole Pope Benedict XVI wore red loafers.  And ermine.  I guess the devil may wear Prada but the Pope does not do communion with PETA.

Vatican paper says pope does not wear Prada

VATICAN CITY (AP) — The devil may wear Prada — but the pope does not. According to the Vatican newspaper L'Osservatore Romano, the bright red loafers that Pope Benedict XVI wears are not designed by the Milanese fashion house, as has long been rumored.

"Obviously the attribution was false," the Vatican newspaper said in its Thursday's editions.

"Such rumors are inconsistent with the simple and somber man who, on the day of his election to the papacy, showed to the faithful gathered in St. Peter's Square and to the whole world the sleeves of a modest black sweater," it said.

Still, Benedict's fashion sense has often drawn media attention.

Three years ago around Christmas, he showed up for his weekly public audience in St. Peter's Square wearing a fur-trimmed stocking cap that could have passed for a Santa Claus hat. The hat, as it turned out, is a "camauro," which dates back to the Middle Ages and figures in many papal portraits.

On a separate occasion, Benedict sported a sumptuous red velvet cape trimmed in ermine — another piece of traditional papal attire that had long been abandoned.

L'Osservatore Romano said the pope's interest in clothes has nothing to do with fashion and everything to do with liturgy — what symbolism traditional garments can bring to the Christian liturgy.

"The pope, therefore, does not wear Prada, but Christ," L'Osservatore said.

 

Yohji Bear

There is hope for all hobos.  This man is apparently a model.  Not just a model.  A haute couture runway show model for Yohji Yamamoto's latest Paris menswear collection.

Egads.

Milk of Dignity

Feminists everywhere are probably going to lynch me for saying this but ... what bollocks.

OK, of course, breast feeding is a wonderful thing.  Between mother and child.  But it should not be inflicted on the unsuspecting and uncomfortable.  Sure it is a natural thing.  So is pissing.  But if a bloke unzipped, took out his willy and started pissing in public view, he would get bloody arrested, wouldn't he?

So this is totally double standards, is it not?

Loads of women breast feed in public.  I've seen them.  They drape this cloth over their shoulder and their feeding spawns to hide their boobies from pervy or horrified eyes.  It's really considerate and discreetly classy.

But to demand your right to breast feed in public as a constitutional, human amendment right is a bit much.  It's like asking for extra pay to take leave to nurse your sick child while your single colleagues have to cover your duties with no compensation.  It's a trite bit unfair and what about the rights of the singletons?  Or the blokes having to hold their wee in while in search of the loo?

It's not as if the breast feeding mums can't go to the loo to breast feed too.  

I remember a girlfriend who called me up in tears years ago.  It was early morning and I was in the office when a weeping woman wailed over the phone.  It was her 30th birthday and she was going through some emotional depression at reaching that hallmark without anything to show for it.  So she hied herself off to the nearest McDonalds to drown her sorrows in a McMuffin and dishwater coffee when a woman and her baby sat at the opposite table.

And proceeded to open her blouse, take out her boobie and breast feed in full view of my girlfriend.

Who promptly burst into tears and called me in the office in hysterics.

I was in hysterics myself at the thought of a woman baring her boobies with such impunity in public.

I never forgot that incident and have developed a deep phobia of going to McDonalds in the morning for breakfast in case of boobies flashing.

So the Italian mums protest that showgirls reveal their boobies so why can't they?  My dears, people pay money to see showgirls.  I reckon some people might pay you to put yours away.  And usually the telecast of gratuitous boob flashing are during the hours when kids are safely in bed.

And boobies are not a sexual thing?  Well, loads of blokes' willies are not sexual things too and more of laughable things but you'd get them arrested in a shot if they flashed those at you, wouldn't you?

Come on, be fair here ... and where's your dignity?

Thus, I am against the mass demonstration of rabid boob flashing by breast feeding mums with overdeveloped sense of entitlement.  OK, they should be allowed to breast feed if they cover up with the cloth tent act or go to the loo but no nekkid boob should be shown.  Hey, there might be young, impressionable kids besides your own around.  They could be scarred for life!

So ... Yes, you are entitled to breast feed where and when you wish.  And yes, we are entitled to call the cops on you for indecent exposure.

06/25/2008 03:26 PM

THE POLITICS OF BREAST-FEEDING

Italian Mothers Hold Mass Public Nursing

Whether it's dealing with the squeamish people or oglers, women often feel uncomfortable about breast-feeding in public. This week, a group of 100 women in Rome held a nurse-in to protest what they see as Italy's unfair stigmatization of women who nurse on the street.

Protesting social attitudes that stigmatize breast-feeding in public in Italy, more than 100 mothers gathered in Rome on Tuesday for a public mass-nursing aimed at bringing attention to the matter.

"People still give a start when they see a woman breast-feeding," Grazia Passeri, president of Salvamamme (Save Mothers), told the Italian news agency ANSA, "but they have to learn that a breast is not just a sexy object." Passeri's organization promotes mothers' rights and is currently running a campaign with the slogan, "I'll Nurse Where I Feel Like It."

Pointing out the irony that Italian television is full of lightly or un-clad women, Passeri added: "It's ridiculous that showgirls can show their (breasts) but mothers can't."

One of the participants in Tuesday's mass-nursing, told ANSA that, when she breast-feeds in public: "They give me evil looks, but I do it anyway."

Although the World Health Organization has labeled breast-feeding "the ideal way of providing young infants with the nutrients they need for healthy growth and development," many societies still feel squeamish about seeing women breast-feed in public.

In England, for example, breast-feeding in public can still be punished under public order laws and laws of public decency. That will soon be changing, though, as the government hopes to push through new laws by the end of the year.

"We intend to make clear in the equality bill that it's not acceptable for women who are breast-feeding their babies to be shooed out of restaurants, public galleries and other public places," Harriet Harman, the leader of the House of Commons, told MPs last Thursday, according to the Guardian.

A similar nurse-in was held in November 2006, when women gathered to nurse in public at 31 airports throughout the United States to protest after a flight attendant kicked a passenger off a plane for breast-feeding her daughter.

Source: http://www.spiegel.de/international/zeitgeist/0,1518,561978,00.html

Small Balls, Big Faux Pas

And people wonder why I am nervous about speaking Chinese or Korean.

Most of my language skills are self-taught. Learnt laboriously through a bizarre combination of comics, kungfu movies, books, dictionaries and friends.

As such, it means my pronunciation is highly dubious and my comprehension severely suspect.

Thus, I try not to massacre the languages unless forced to. I've seen and heard too many horror stories of people committing major faux pas with the best intentions.

Like the recent one I heard.

I was speaking with a young Chinese lady who is living in Korea. Her Korean is probably worse than mine which made her recounting of this story doubly funny.

When we were introduced, the hostess mistakenly introduced her to me as Korean so I immediately greeted her in Korean and did the formal introduction of my name. To which she started and, thinking I was Korean, she hesitantly returned the greeting in even more mangled Korean than mine.

When we realised we were both not Korean (no! really?!!), it was with much relieved laughter and embarrassment. Then I tried to speak Chinese, which sent us both into another level of hilarity.

Finally, out of pity, she asked that I speak in English. I was pathetically grateful.

We started chatting about the Korean culture and language and she told me the story of how her American boss bollocked up his first big presentation to a large local client.

According to her, he went into the boardroom and greeted them by something she verbalised as "chanmaneul". I have never heard this before and the closest I can think of is "cheukamaneul" which is, probably, totally the wrong spelling but essentially means "wait a minute" or "wait".

However, she informed me that it was a major boo boo by her boss as it means "You have small balls". Or so she was told by her Korean colleagues. 

It did not help that the clients were all Koreans. And males.

Although I have not, as yet, insulted anyone's private parts unintentionally in a foreign language, I have had my share of language faux pas.

Like when I asked "whose flying brother's boat and ship" was about when someone was talking about an email in Chinese. And accidentally frightened someone to death when I told him "I love" ("sarang") him because he was interesting when I meant to refer to "people" ("sarahm") as interesting, in Korean. And I inadvertently called someone a biatch when I meant to say she was crazy in Thai. Not that that made much of a difference, really, as she incidentally happened to be both.

It makes me highly nervous using my uncertain language skills but I reckon if you do not practise it, you will lose it.

So till I tell someone, unintentionally, his balls are small, I shall continue to blunder my way through.

You've Been Served

This was apparently served to a woman in a noodle stall in Singapore.

High Rising G-String of Death

It's finally happened. G-strings can maim.

No, not because they will floss in unmentionable places and cause further expansions of certain body cavities as accused by some naysayers.

But because they can blind you.

Victoria's Secret is out. They are actually terrorists from the underbelly of society. A Los Angeles victim, (yes, a woman) is suing the bottoms peddlers of injuring her eye with their G-string.

No, no ... they did not flash her. Or rather a metallic piece from the G-string caused her life to flash before her eyes momentarily. Apparently, a decorative metal bit from the Victoria's Secret "low-rise v-string" propelled itself off the garment and went for her eye.

This vicious attack on Macrida Patterson, 52, happened last May.

The "Sexy Little Thing" (no, not Ms Patterson ... I think) touted by Victoria Secret as "Easy. Breezy. It's the natural choice", lived up to its breezy claim by flying in the face of the wearer. The victim filed a product liability lawsuit against the knickers knock-outs, which did not claim any monetary damages but insisted that a "design problem" in the thong caused damage to her cornea.

This, in turn, caused Ms Patterson to miss a few days of work, which will now be affecting her for "the rest of her life". 

I think the last may be a bit of a thin line of contention.

Strangely, Patterson refused Victoria's Secret's lawyers' requests to examine the alleged faulty garment. I am sure they meant to examine it while she was not in them, which makes her skew-eyed coyness a bit suspect.

Perhaps Patterson should look on the bright side of things. She wanted no visible panty lines. Well, no vision may be the solution. Perhaps VS was trying out a new strategy ...

Korean Engrish

Buying T-shirts in Asia can be rather entertaining. You see a nice one that is well-constructed and tailored (read: makes you look hot) and then you read the words in the front. Or back, sometimes.

Walk feild. See drims. Happy together.

Here we go loop de joop.

Cat happy. Miuow.

Say what? Er, pass ...

I suppose it's similar to seeing some white dude with a huge tattoo on his arm. It's a Chinese character and you can tell he thinks it's bitchin'. Except the words says Happy. If it was read in reverse image. It's the wrong way round, mate.

So it was with some amusement that I received an email of the new promotional poster of a rather famous singer (sic) in Korea, with the unfortunate name of Li Hyori, who has launched her latest album.

It is even more ironic as the warbler has a rather risque image (well, for Koreans anyway) and everyone who can speak English in Korea is sniggering at it.

I rid poster. Laugh small big. Now and just now.

Surmount on the Mounds

This woman, aka Maxi Mounds, just entered the Guinness World Records. No guesses what for. 

Her measurements are 36MMM and weigh 9 kg on each side. The rest of her details are mounted on her comp card.

Congratulations ... Or Not

I was rather amused to see a retraction in one of the papers today.

It said -

My apologies to Amber Aikens, delightful wife of Chelsea restaurateur Tom, whom I said yesterday was pregnant. In fact, she tells me she is not. 

Crikey. I hope the editor, sub-editor and reporter managed to get their Manolos out from their mouths safely.

Growing up, I was taught to give up my seat to old people, very young kids and women with a bun in the oven. Being a good little girl, I did that on a regular basis. Until the day I gave up my seat to a lady on the bus and got yelled at. Apparently she wasn't preggers. She was just kind of chubby and terribly hormonal.

Well, that taught me. After that I would eye women suspiciously. Unless they were severely and blindingly preggers, I was not going to risk a bollocking by trying to be kind.

Then there was the time I was at a dinner party and met a couple I had not seen in ages. She was much bigger than before and wore a big, billowy gown that could pass for a Cirque du Soleil tent. 

So I congratulated her in total delight on being preggers. And wanted to die a thousand deaths when she frostily informed me she was not preggers. Yes, we are still friends although I had to grovel big time.

But I got my own comeuppance.

I was in a taxi in Singapore after spending the day shopping and doing the ladies who lunch thing. I remember I was wearing a red salwar kameez. The taxi driver was extremely friendly and when I reached my hotel, he very solicitously asked me to be careful and to watch my steps as I got out.

I was a bit puzzled but thought, what a nice guy!

And then he congratulated me on my pregnancy.

Kiwis and Hedgehogs

Ah, the Kiwis ... they slay me even if I feel a prick on my conscience for laughing at them.

Somehow I now have visions of Zena doing one of her battle cries as she swings a hedgehog furiously around in the air and launches it into her enemies.  Hedgehog Power!  Aaaaiiiieeeeeeeeeyyyaaaaaaa!!!

Kiwis do it the organic way apparently.  They fight au natural.  Not for them the metallic clank of knives and blades.  And fie on using guns and 2x4s.  

According to AFP, a Kiwi (not the bird, the man ... then again ...) has been convicted of assault with a prickly weapon.  This obviously frustrated hairdresser-wannabe must have felt so passionately about a 15-year-old's bad hairdo that he decided the teen needed a hedgehog helmet to cover his sins.

The misunderstood Samaritan, William Singalargh, aged 27, was fined by the court for his misguided efforts.  They deemed it an assault and offensive behaviour.  Perhaps to the hedgehog but I think his defense lawyer should have shown exhibits of the boy's hair to support their case, if they were to even have a strand of hope.

Fortunately, the Wellingtonian court dropped the more serious charge of assault with a weapon.  We can only surmise that the hedgehog had been asleep and did not have its back up during the attack.  In fact, there was some accusation that the hedgehog was actually deceased at the time of the crime, since it was definitely dead when the police arrived at the scene of the crime.  In which case, Singalargh was lucky that they did not charge him with assault with a dead weapon.

Despite Singalargh's plaintive appeal that he was not a hedgehog hurler, judge Ian Thomas listened to the evidence of other witnesses, who fingered Singalargh through his bright orange pants.  I would say he deserved the fingering.  Honestly, who wears bright orange pants nowadays?  Even Prison Break broke away from that horrendous fashion statement.

But the story related by the victim was even more damning than Singalargh's pants.  On February 9, 2008, the teen had been walking home with his two mates when Singalargh and his three accomplices confronted them on the road outside his home.

Singalargh apparently asked him, "Do you want to wear a hedgehog helmet?"

The teen made the mistake of declining the hairy offer, which drove Singalargh to hedge his bets and attempt to reconstruct the latter's hair by hurling the hedgehog at him.  Unfortunately, Singalargh obviously wanted to straighten out the 15-year-old's hair on his lower body as the ball of pricks hit the boy ... well, near his prick.  On his hip actually.

Left with a red welt and four quills on his hip, the boy cried for mummy who ran out and prevented a second volley.  That ticked Singalargh off so much, he decided to launch another ball of attack by mooning her.  Surprisingly, she was not blinded.  By either his bare buttocks or his bright orange pants.

According to police constable Lyndon Reid, Singalargh also made a monumental arse of himself by admitting to possession of a hedgehog and to using alleged hedgehog as a hacky sack.  So that left the prosecution case completely in the sack as Singalargh ended up with sharp words from the judge and a pointedly appropriate sentence.

Singalargh had to pay a fine of $545 (the cost of the hedgehog was probably not accounted for), of which $389 went to the victim.  The boy ... not the hedgehog.

There is no report on whether there is a memorial service for the misused hedgehog or if the teen is still hip with this sentence.

But there are rumours that there is now a legislation under consideration for the mandatory registry and licensing of hedgehogs and a public campaign on safe hedgehog possession in the home.

Man Or Mouse - Sperm Them Not

Boys, you know when your parents told you to stop wanking yourself or you might go blind? Well, now you may be pleased to know that your sperm may cure the world.

On the other hand, you are apparently not much more than a mouse ...

Oh, how many ways can you milk this ... isn't it rather apt that this research comes from animal health? 

Scientists look to sperm to power nanobots
Flagellum could potentially provide locomotion, early research suggests
By Bryn Nelson
ColumnistMSNBC contributor
ET Jan. 2, 2008

A tiny assembly line that powers the whip-like tail of sperm could be harnessed to send future nanobots or other tiny medical devices zooming around the human body, according to a preliminary research report.

Borrowing a page from reproductive biology, the proof-of-principle study offers a peek at how nanotechnology might overcome the problem of supplying energy to the envisioned menagerie of nanobots, implants and “smart” probes aimed at releasing disease-fighting drugs, monitoring enzymes and performing other medical roles within a patient’s body.

To be biologically compatible, these hypothetical devices would need to be formed not from tiny springs and nuts and bolts but from biomedical components. “At that scale, biology provides the best functional motors,” said Alexander Travis, an assistant professor of reproductive biology at Cornell University’s Baker Institute for animal Health. “But how do you power these kinds of structures?”

One potential answer has come from the tail, or flagellum, that propels human sperm at a rate of about 7 inches per hour. (In comparison, if a 6-foot man swam the equivalent number of body lengths in an hour, his tally of 3.7 miles would smash the American long-distance swimming record.)

To supply the energy for its locomotion, a sperm cell’s tail is essentially studded with tiny assembly lines that produce a high-energy compound called ATP. Officially known as adenosine triphosphate, ATP has been called the universal energy “currency” of living cells because of its ability to store, transfer and release energy. When a power source is needed to run processes within a cell — say, bending and flexing a sperm’s flagellum — ATP releases its reserves through a process that results in its decay to a simpler chemical form.

The most efficient producers of ATP are mitochondria, the cell’s miniature power plants. Sperm tails contain a spiraling helix of these mitochondria within the area closest to the sperm’s head. On the remaining three-quarters of its tail, however, the cell uses an approach based on a pathway called glycolysis, in which sugar is broken down into several components, including high-energy ATP molecules.

Proteins normally require the freedom to twist, bend or change shape to be functional. Research by Travis and Cornell colleague Chinatsu Mukai, together with other scientists, suggests that in sperm, the 10 proteins involved in glycolysis have been tweaked so they stick to a solid scaffold-like support running the length of the tail while still maintaining their activity. Travis and Mukai borrowed that approach to re-jigger the proteins so they stuck instead to the surface of a tiny gold chip covered with nickel ions. For their research, the scientists used mouse sperm proteins as templates for the synthesized versions. (Human and mouse sperm proteins are closely related.){NOW, DON'T YOU WISH YOU'D KNOWN I WAS GOING TO HIGHLIGHT THIS SO YOU DID NOT HAVE TO READ THE ABOVE?}

After tethering the first two proteins in the pathway to the chip, the researchers found that both did well in breaking down glucose and handing the end-product to the next protein. Compared to versions lacking a surface-targeting domain and “just randomly glommed” onto a structural support, the engineered proteins performed especially well. Most of the remaining assembly line has yet to be similarly tweaked, but Travis and Mukai’s work suggests it should be possible. “We believe it is one of the first, if not the first, example of building a biological pathway on a manmade surface,” Travis said. The collaborators have a provisional patent for the ATP-making strategy, though no commercial partners as of yet.

Like a vehicle running on gasoline, the sperm’s power production emits waste. Fortunately, its tail harbors a transport protein that acts like a tailpipe to kick out waste and keep the production cycle going. Future nanodevices, Travis said, could include this transporter to similarly maintain their energy production. Maximizing the pathway’s efficiency could prove important for future strategies, such as filling tiny delivery capsules known as liposomes with cancer-fighting drugs and studding their outsides with antibodies that would direct the medical packets to attack specific tumor cells. Under that scenario, a steady supply of ATP could power the pumps charged with dispensing the medication at a certain rate.

Other scientists are likewise mining the emerging field of nanotechnology and its largely unrealized potential for delivering high-impact devices in ultra-small dimensions. Recent studies, for example, have harnessed nanotubes, nanodiamonds and magnetic nanoparticles for drug delivery (but not yet within humans). One group has created a tiny nickel-based rod that spins almost like a tiny propeller as it uses ATP. Another team, led by Carlo Montemagno at the University of Cincinnati, is working on a technique that makes ATP from light photons.

As a veterinarian, Travis said his interest in wildlife conservation got him into reproductive biology and research aimed at fighting infertility and exploring birth control methods. Through efforts by his lab and others, he discovered that one of the most abundant proteins in mammalian sperm, hexokinase, is also the first enzyme in the glycolysis assembly line on its tail. That observation led to questions about the protein’s role, location and, eventually, about whether it and its assembly line partners might be useful for other applications. 

Cornell University’s emphasis on nanotechnology “just kind of clicked” with his reproductive biology research, Travis said. He and Mukai presented the initial results from that scientific pairing in early December at the American Society for Cell Biology’s annual meeting, held in Washington, D.C., and are now preparing the study for publication.

Dr. Erkki Ruoslahti, a nanotechnology researcher and distinguished professor with the La Jolla, Calif.-based Burnham Institute for Medical Research, said he was intrigued by the approach and considered it a valid first step. “It sounds good to me — that’s the kind of thing that the field needs,” he said. “Having some sort of way of being able to power nanodevices is the number one bottleneck in constructing really clever devices.”

The safety of nanotechnology devices has yet to be fully resolved. Ruoslahti cautioned that sperm-inspired ATP generators would need to overcome the likelihood that the altered proteins would be recognized as foreign by the body’s immune system, provoking a strong immune response. Even so, he pointed out that some nanoparticles potentially serving as the basis for savvy devices of the future are already in use, including magnetic iron oxide particles used for advanced body imaging. “These are not pie-in-the-sky technologies,” Ruoslahti said. “They’re already with us.”


You don't say?

A reader sent a comment about Michael Jackson in a white lab jacket trying to er ... work out some samples from mice, singing Ben ... so that led me to re-work the lyrics, with a mental image of MJ with white lab jacket and one white glove giving a hand (ahem) to Ben .

Ben, the two of us can see no more
We've both wanked what they were looking for
With a bot to call my own
I'll never be alone
And you, my friend, can't see
You've wanked it all from me
(you've wanked it all from me)

Ben, you're always wanking here and there
You feel yourself up just everywhere
If you ever look behind
And don't like what you find (oh, I am so not even going there)

There, flagellum, you should know
You've got a place to go
(you've got a place to go)

I used to say "eye" and "pee"
Now it's "grasp", now it's "whee!"
I used to say "eye" and "pee"
Now it's "grasp", now it's "whee!"
Ben, most people would spurm you away

I ain't fisting to a word they say
They don't whip-tail as you do
I wish they would try to
I'm sure they'd wank again
If they had a friend like Ben
(a friend) Like Ben
(like Ben) Like Ben

Alright, no need to call the RSPCA or the white with the white jacket.  No, not MJ!  I'll be good now, I promise!

Gambian Gay Beheading

Let us all pray ...

To the Creator above, below, sideways, upside down, spread-eagle, downward dog pose, whatever, and whatever and in whichever language you would like to be called today, please enlighten your humble confused.

I, in all my behemoth ignorance, am having a crisis of faith.

That is, my faith in common sense and logical thinking.  But obviously, the two concepts are not compatible with the word "faith".  Not that I am trying to be blasphemous, oh Mighty One who might strike me down with righteous lightning from on high.

I humbly submit my confession of total confusion and ignorance.  I beg for a sign.  A sign that I should stop reading the newspapers, watching any form of information broadcasts and surfing the net.  In fact, I think I should just stop reading full stop.  And I am also reconsidering this whole con-job of thinking.

It is your servants of moral good who have brought my ungodly thought processes to light.  I do not know which division of the Heaven squad they are from but they're good.  Real good.

God's Squad Team Leader aka President Yahya Jammeh of Gambia recently shook me out from my erroneous ways by threatening to behead all gays if they do not leave Gambia.  I had no idea that that is the latest directive from you, Lord of all things big and small, but not beheaded.  I confess I was misled into thinking gay people were also human and therefore considered one of your children.  I had no idea they were adopted!

It was that Satan fella, wasn't it?  They're all his love-children and he tried to pass them off as one of yours.  That's just so wrong.  

I'd always treated them as mates.  In fact, I even claimed some of them as best mates.  I am so sorry, Lord, that I was such an unwitting minion of evil.  From now on, I shall walk the straight and narrow path and threaten to behead any of them who try to be in my vicinity.

I would also like to recommend President Yahya Jammeh (by the way, I love his name because in your infinite wisdom you gave him a name that means arrogant in Indonesian ... which he is not, of course ... so clever!) for the Angel Network award.  You know, the one started by your lobbyist.  Yes, the tupperware party circuit organised by that Ms Oprah who mans your lobby.

Anyway, I think his speech to announce this latest directive was incredibly touching.  I can even quote it ad verbatim, with the help of the Sydney Morning Herald.

"The Gambia is a country of believers ... sinful and immoral practices (such) as homosexuality will not be tolerated in this country," the president told a crowd at a political rally on May 15, local journalists told AFP on Thursday.

My God, I admit I am a trifle slow as it's taking me quite a while to figure out out what kind of believers Gambians are.  And it does not help that I keep hearing the tune of "I'm a believer ..." which causes my hips to shake and my feet to tap.  All terribly inappropriate for reading missives of religious doctrines.

Actually, if you do not mind terribly, oh Saviour of all threatened by the scourge of homosexuality, can you just drop me a hint of what the Gambian are believers of, please?  You can either leave me a voicemail, text me or IM me, Lord.  I am also on Facebook.  I can My Friend you, OK?

Anyway, back to your promised land of Gambia.  It is obvious they are your chosen people, Lord, for why else would they be the only ones chosen to be cured of Aids?  You are infinitely wise and loving to withhold your favour from the rest of the world who condone such sinful and sordid practises of sodomy.  Tough love is much needed.

President Jammeh went on the mountain-tops (no, I did not so hear the lyrics "The hills are alive ...") and told his people that you have given them the "miracle" cure for HIV and Aids in January this year.  What a lovely New Year gift, Lord.  I am not complaining that all I got was the flu because I know now that it was probably because I went out partying with my gay former-friends.  I now realise my sins.

The treatment is based on medicinal plants and a Koranic verse, which I think is so fantastic.  I am so stoked that it's all organic, without using chemicals.  Like even the Scientologists will be able to use this, if and when they accept that the Koran is pre-Thetan and Hubbard.  

I wish your chosen people in Gambia had greater faith and did not have to be ordered to give up their Aids antiretroviral drugs.  But I know you can get through this as you did in the old days when you had to send blights, locusts and the such to every household to convince them that you could cure diseases.  Maybe if they had radio then and you could tome, "Dr Love is in the house ..."

Like if you can bring it, you can take it away, ya know?  They should really just put their trust in you.  

But President Jammeh is keeping the faith and what a fine example he is setting for the infidels.  I think you should promote him to Prophet status.  Not that I am telling you what to do, of course, Lord.  I'm just saying ...  maybe a little something something for this fine crusader of God.

Alright, I have to go now, Lord, as you know I have to go find that Koranic verse and do some herb gathering.  Ya think you could like maybe help me out here by putting an X on the right page in the Koran and on the spot where the weed is growing?  

* Please note that title of post should be recited to the tune of one of Bob Marley's songs.

Dear John, You've Lost Your Family Jewels ...

I read in the Sydney Morning Herald that former PM, John Howard has been violated.  OK, OK, his house got broken into and apparently some jewelry was nicked.

These burglars have some balls.  Not only did they rob a former political leader, they did it in broad daylight!  The paper reported that the police were called to the "Wollenstonecraft home, on Sydney's north shore" at 4pm after the automatic alarm was tripped.  

Obviously no one was home, with the big man around the house out of the house, overseas.

Well, at least the burglars only did away with Mr Howard's family jewels ...

Karma, Karma, Karma Itsutra

Some really cool visuals from Jialat.com today.  I found the IT Karma Sutra totally hilarious.  Oh, the memories it brings back.

Especially the one of the office sys admin guys who were so useless, we would only call them in at the last resort when we wanted them to cart away old hardware.  

However, the entire organisation went through a supposed hardware upgrade so out came the sys admins guys.  We all vacated our stations so they could do the damage and went for coffee and smokes, knowing that the end was neigh for our poor systems.

When I returned to my desk, I saw a couple of screws lying around and the chassis of my desktop was alarmingly askew.  So I called up sys admins and told them, "Oy, I know you guys are a few screws loose but seriously, there are about 8 screws for the chassis and now there are 3 left on my desk.  Ya think you missed something, mates?"

They were right embarrassed but I rethought things and told them not to come and started reassembling my system myself.  It was safer that way.

Japanese Deploy Pussy Power

Alright, this is just too funny.  I could not, just could not resist.

I love the Japanese.  They have this completely surreal perspective that is often totally hilarious yet charming in their naiveté.  Yet they can be sharp as tacks and totally cutting edge.  Definitely a land of oxymorons and paradox. 

And boy, have they exhibited it with their latest ambassador of tourism.

Hiya Pussy.

Er, sorry, that's Hello Kitty.

Anywhere else in the world, the idea of having a fictional cartoon character as a national icon of tourism would be a thing of embarrassment.  In Japan, it is a source of pride.

In today's Associated Press, it was reported that Hello Kitty has climbed the career ladder from being a marketing icon, designed to fleece parents when their little girls cry and whine over the moon-faced feline, to official "government envoy".

Just how Disneyish is that?  

But let's not sneer at this feat of marketing.  The Japanese might not be as barmy as they appear.

The puss in tourist Birkenstocks, white socks, hat and camera will only be deployed to hypnotise the cute-crazed minions in Hong Kong and China.  Let's see.  There were riots in Hong Kong when they ran out of Hello Kitty giveaways in their Happy Meals after queues were formed for days.  In China, they are status symbols.

You know ... these Japanese know of what they unleash.

To reach their targeted 10 million per annum visitors to Japan, they need to up the ante in these two countries, which accounted for 16.5 percent of their visitors in 2007.  This year, this group of pussy-lovers are projected to be the second largest tourist groups after South Korea.  What?  Koreans don't like cats?

As an aside, the Japanese government is obviously trying to update their image to a younger, more fanboy/fangirl-friendly appeal.  Although this is the first time they have utilised pussy-power, it is not the first time they have resorted to 2D allure.  In March this year, they named another cat "Anime ambassador".  You guessed it, Doraemon is also an official Japanese official alongside his feline playmate, Hello Kitty.

What next?  Maybe if Garfield emigrated he might be able to get a job with the Japanese government.

According to AP, the Hello Kitty mania has already began.  This 34-year-old feline recently has a multi-million dollar musical in Beijing and is currently on a national tour, which will then begin its bid for world domination by targeting the feeble-minded in Malaysia, Singapore and the US.  No bad for a pinhead that first made its debut on a plastic coin purse in 1974.

According to her official profile at parent company, Sanrio, Hello Kitty still lives with her family in London.  What?  Japan not good enough for her?  Bit hard to represent a place if you do not live there, no?

And no, I am not being a sour puss.

But I sure would like to see Barbie become the tourism ambassador for the US.

* Photo from AP