Vox Lucens

I am not one to normally admit my linguistic gaffes.

But unfortunately for my pride, I’m also a huge fan of the mixed metaphor. Before today, my favorite mixed metaphor came from a member of the Pennsylvania House of Representatives, who spoke with great passion against the gambling bill before them, claiming that he would lead the way to “derailing that ship.”

Today I gave him a run for his money, though, when talking to a Remember supporter interested in knowing about our trip plans. In referring to a potential Thailand trip this summer, I told him, “I’m hoping to get this trip off the ground. So far it’s all a bit up in the air.”

Sigh.

The California Bar is now 2/3 over, after a day of the multiple-choice questions from the Multistate Bar Exam.

My brain is numb.

One more day to go.

But as I gathered with hundreds of other law students in preparation for filling in hundreds of little ovals with a No.2 lead pencil, all I could think about was the great movie scenes in which writing implements were used as weapons.

The first one that comes to mind is the scene in the first Bourne movie in which Jason rams a pen into the hand of his opponent. Then there is the scene in Daredevil in which Bullseye kills Kingpin with a pencil to the trachea. I’m also told there is a scene in Redeye, but I know nothing about that movie.

Any other such scenes that come to mind?

There comes a day in every man’s life when he looks back on the past and realizes its value on the present, when past traditions long abandoned are resurrected into glorious light only magnified by the passage of time. It is on such a day that our hero has now embarked, and as he assayed the traditional feast before him, he could not help but remember the wisdom that he had been taught: “And besides this, giving all diligence, add to your Taco Bell coffee, and to your coffee law books…”

–From A Pointless Oral History of One of Mankind’s Dimmest Luminaries

Back when I lived in Northern Virginia, one of my favorite food-related activities was to grab a trusted friend and head to Taco Bell for a two-man, Grande Meal eating show. (And yes, adding the Nachos BellGrande and the Mexican Pizza were musts.)

I will freely admit that it is a hard task to find a friend who is willing to trust you enough to subject his entire digestive system to the bombardment of such a feast, and it is for that reason that I have not attempted this glorious tradition since leaving Northern Virginian climes.

Today I was highly gratified to learn that I have not lost my touch. The Grande Meal still quakes before me…and quakes within me.

And as I add a big cup of coffee to the dozen pounds of I-Can’t-Believe-It’s-Not-Beef running through my system, I am amazed at what bar study can do to a man.

I live in corporate casual. That’s not a complaint; I like corporate casual very much. I certainly like the opportunity to dress up from time to time, but given the choice I wouldn’t want to wear a tie every day, and I enjoy working jobs that require me to at least wear a pair of slacks and a shirt that isn’t covered in wrinkles.

And because I live in corporate casual, I have a lot of it. (Cheap custom-made shirts from Thailand will do that, too…) About a year ago, as I was coming the end of my massive shirt-ironing project one Sunday afternoon, I realized what I had always known in my heart: I hate ironing. But I also hate wrinkled shirts.

Hatred led to action, as it often does, and I took revenge on my iron by putting it away and taking my shirts to the dry cleaner. All it took was one time, and I was addicted. Nothing beats getting 15-20 shirts back, clean and crisply pressed, carefully hung on a little wire hanger.

But you do that any number of times, and the wire hangers take over. They hang in the closet, they sit on the floor, they clog up the trash can–and if you don’t carefully fold them, they rip the trash bag to shreds. And yet, it seems a pity to waste them. Some third-world sweatshop worker put great pains into making that thing, and it seems a great waste of both unskilled labor and cheap metal to chuck dozens of hangers on a regular basis.

And good grief, they’re like a natural resource. My closets are bubbling forth with wire hangers like the plains of Texas bubble with tea. But unlike the Texans, I have not tapped the power of this natural resource.

So I ask you, good friends, what can be done to turn this resource into a little lining for my wallet? So far all the ideas either take too much time or provide too little opportunity to cash out:

• Robot.
• Spider web wallhanging.
• Yarn covered hangers. (Do the feathers make the bird?)
• Vintage wire basket.
• Ugly earrings to hang doll clothes on?

Help!

One of the primary advantages–no pun intended–of being done with the Republican side of the South Carolina vote is that half of the political ads are now no longer on the air. I am heartily sick of looking at ancient pictures of X Candidate with Ronald Reagan–especially when such a picture is the only proof that X Candidate is actually the conservative he claims to be.

But the primary problem with the Democratic primary being next Saturday is that the worst ads are still on air. I mean, unless you’re a hippie, Obama’s ads aren’t for you. And unless you’re a diehard fan of candidates who read their speeches, Hillary’s ads just aren’t going to resonate.

But Edwards’ ads are the worst. First, they have no video–and with just still pictures, I could do a better job with PowerPoint. And as far as the message, I could write a better ad in my sleep. I mean, really–”He will be our president. Not theirs.”

What?

And his other slogan–”A winner every time.” I guess they mean except for his last presidential campaign. Oh, and his last vice presidential campaign. Oh, and every state so far this campaign season.

The primary can’t come fast enough to get this hilarity off the air.

I’ve loved Ramen Noodles for a long time. There for a while, I forgot the passion, but lately it is being restored. I don’t know what triggered the restoration, to be honest–probably the desire to be frugal combined with the call of unlimited options.

Now don’t get me wrong, friends. Ramen can be prepared badly, especially if you follow the directions on the packet. If you make a weak, slimy, yellow-green soup, you are doing it all wrong. And don’t bother with anything other than the chicken flavor.

But done right, Ramen is glorious. Done right, Ramen is not just dinner, nor is it just art; Ramen is the canvas upon which dinner is painted.

Just imagine it. Ramen noodles (Maruchan Ramen, not Top Ramen) cooked, drained, and the sauce added. Combine on the top some stir-fried veggies (Costco has an excellent frozen mix), a couple of slices of canned jalapeno, and if you are really adventurous some sliced, stir-fried chicken or steak. A little salt for the veggies and some fresh crushed black pepper, and you have a meal that takes 15 minutes and tastes great.

And the options are unlimited. Versatile, tasty, and undeniably convenient, Ramen is the ultimate American food.

Not convinced? –

Wall o’ Ramen

Ramen, You’re Beautiful