Archive for the ‘Belgian Waffle’ Category

So what’s going on here?

Friday, April 4th, 2008

Zoomtarded is the place where all the old Zoomtard posts go to die. Between November 2003 and November 2007, I wrote hundreds of posts about all kinds of things. In May 2008 I relaunched Zoomtard and send all the archives here.

Makes Me Want To Have Telly

Wednesday, November 28th, 2007

Wife-unit and I once didn’t have a telly. Man, were we the intellectual hot-shit back then. “Oh what you doing tonight? Home for a quiet night in and the Champions League?”, a colleague would ask. “Me? Me? No no no. (Shaking head underlining the folly of his thinking) We don’t have a television. We’ll just probably read some Proust or work on our papier maché model of the Parthenon.”

Then we got a TV and it was sweet. But sometimes we, meaning I, want to have more than the basic four stations: Poverty 1, Poverty 2, Trash 3 and Native-speakers Play Country Music 4. It’s not even that I would like to have more stations. I would just like better reception. Don’t tell anyone, but we download our telly off the web mostly. Illegally, no doubt. Even shows that we can see on the terrestrial stations like Lost come through so fuzzy via our rabbit ears that it is infinitely better to watch it on a PC. Plus, we see them faster that way.

We have a dish sitting on the side of our house but we don’t know what to do with it or how much it costs or what you can get and I suspect we’d just conclude that life is easier with our constant re-runs of Friends and shows about the Irish coastline shot from a helicopter in 1975.

But then you hear about a show like the one last night where E from the Eels talked about his relationship with his dead dad who developed the theory of parallel universes and you think, “damn, I’d like some of that action”. It was on BBC4. I didn’t even know it went more than 2. BBC4! That’s 2 louder, innit? I can just imagine the bit with the thunder clap. Would have been class.

I was too busy watching Heroes on my computer. How the mighty intellectual hot-shit has fallen…

Your Correspondent, Momentous for the sake of momentum

When You Start From The Wrong Place

Monday, November 26th, 2007

If you board the wrong train, it is no use running along the corridor in the other direction.

-Dietrich Bonhoeffer

My instinct is to take the flawed assumptions that I make on the basis of my personal prejudices and try to redeem them with the best damned logic I can muster. Bit stupid really, isn’t it?

Your Correspondent, Inviting you all back for milk and cookies

One Line Review 13: Lions For Lambs

Tuesday, November 20th, 2007

This is an hour and a half long sermon but this reviewer loves good preach.

Your Correspondent, He stands for nothing and so falls for everything

One Line Review 12: Total Recall

Tuesday, November 20th, 2007

This movie explains why Arnie is the Governor of California; years before the USA had to start its War Of Terror, Arnie starred in this prophetic masterpiece about the threat of Martian violence.

Your Correspondent, Wouldn’t be that pushed about a third breast

One Line Review 11: American Gangster

Tuesday, November 20th, 2007

If a film is an hour in, the main characters still haven’t reached their prime and you don’t want it to ever end, then you probably are watching one of those rare things- an Oscar hungry serious drama that deserves Oscars.

Your Correspondent, Loves nothing more than to fight for an idea he knows nothing about

One Line Review 10: Scent Of A Woman

Tuesday, November 20th, 2007

If our generation had not arbitrarily deemed Al Pacino’s ever-present scene-chewing over-dramatic villainy as superior to Robin Williams’ ever-present sentimental maudlin then Scent Of A Woman, especially it’s climactic scene, would be viewed as a blind man’s Dead Poets Society.

Your Correspondent, but he says you are executin’ his soul!

Belfast Observations

Monday, November 19th, 2007

So wife-unit and I had a delightful time in the capital city of the eventually-to-be-formed Republic of Northern Ireland over the weekend. She had a thrilling time jousting with other chin rubbing philosopher types and I trooped around the city wearing my GAA jersey over my Presbyterian robes just to confuse people. Here are some of the things I noticed:

    People drive very fast in first gear in Belfast
    Girls in Belfast must get a tax benefit for skin exposed because they dress like it’s Rio. I never knew girls’ legs went so far up. I had my innocence robbed. When can I get it back?
    An unexpected benefit of all those fearless Christians who don’t like to do any type of fun activity can lead to death, there are a huge number of great coffee shops in Belfast and they stay open late. Common Grounds was an object of envy for me but Bookfinders just stole my cold hard heart and sold it for £1.50.
    I had to check the cash twice when it came out of the ATM because it just actually looks like a child’s idea of money.
    Due to a strange law dating from the reign of Queen Matilda III, every woman in Norn Iron gets a GHD hair straightener when she “comes of age”. It’s the law.
    People in Union Theological College are so nice that you could almost imagine you know, studying there. Then you “catch yourself on” (I learned much of their language) and go fill in the applications for colleges in real cities.
    In over twenty visits, I’ve never been in Belfast without it raining.

Your Correspondent, Whitey’s still on the Moon

Where The Explorer Invites Feedback

Thursday, November 15th, 2007

I am off on an adventure tomorrow. My to-do list is detailed, with all kinds of minutely prescribed tasks in preparation. Tomorrow, before the sun gets up nevermind you, I’ll be on the road with nothing but a mug of coffee and my wits to keep me safe. And my car. And lots of cash. And a bag of clean clothes. And a laptop. But nothing else. A big box of CDs in the car too.

All this preparation is needed since I am crossing the border into the occupied territories of Norn Iron. The Queen can’t keep me out. Wife-unit is off to some high flying conference where friendless philosophers debate what it would be like to have friends hosted by the so-called Queen’s University of Belfast. I am her driver. It’ll be like that Britney Spears movie, except wife-unit’s Chinese philosopher colleague will probably struggle with the bit where we pole-dance for food money and then celebrate our victory by jumping up and down on beds in our underwear.

I am only interested in one symposioum and that’s about whether you can make friends over the internet. The only reason I am interested is because I am engaged in an ongoing dispute with all the brainiacs in Irish Christianity about the ethics of new technology. I better not share that with the contributors. “Hi. My name is Zoomtard. I am here to marshall ammo for an ongoing petty squabble I am energetically failing to win. Please only talk about things that will help me to score points”.

If any of you readers have good suggestions for how to spend time in Belfast, please do comment and share them with me. I was just planning on prayer-walking around the loyalist Proddie parts, asking the Holy Spirit to make the residents into real humans with souls.

I realise that might seem a bit extreme and a little offensive for people from that part of the world, but I’d like to remind you that you would see things differently if you were, you know, made in God’s image.

Seriously though, there must be something better to do than wander around the Christian bookshops asking them if they have any Deepak Chopra and reading in the Linen Hall library.

Your Correspondent, More intrepid than Dora

While The Coffee Is Brewing

Wednesday, November 14th, 2007

Maybe I should pay heed to Doug Willis’ advice to not hand over my agenda to the quarrelers.

Allegedly, on 2FM’s Gerry Ryan morning radio show recently, an obviously misled woman rang in to complain about the fact that Bibles were secretly being stuffed into the Operation Christmas Child gift boxes. The head of Samartian’s Purse, Niall Barry rang in to correct the error. Short, linguistically localised tracts about the nativity are sometimes distributed alongside but seperate from the boxes but there is no Bible-stuffing going on. Another woman then rang in and got Franklin Graham, founder of Samartian’s Purse and son of the Zoomtard Legend #4 Billy Graham with the old hate-filled man who heads up the so called Westboro “Baptist Church”. This clip of a Louis Theroux documentary shows Fred Phelp’s crew, who have no connection with Samartian’s Purse. This is what Operation Christmas Child is about. The whole point of Operation Christmas Child, especially from the perspective of its Christian founders, is that the gifts are unconditional.

Here are allegedly, the top 87 worst predictions ever made. It doesn’t include my secondary school class naming me the most likely to be an underwear model.

Finally and best of all, the splendorous Malcolm Gladwell is back with a brilliant article about the so-called insight of criminal profiling. Ideal for printing out and reading over a short commute. By the way, anyone remember that awful show “Profiler“, which was like a precursor to the CSI-spermandbloodontelly invasion of the ’00s? No? Didn’t think so.

Your Correspondent, Always a little late with delivering the goods