Last week, I saw a TV special on magician David Blaine, who - as we can all recall - has been getting lots of press lately with his week-long water bubble stunt in New York.



The program was a new version of his popular "Street Magic" show - this one in which he travelled to various ends of the Earth, performing magic tricks again for people who were just walking along on a fine day, minding their own business. Slow-moeing the show in Tivo revealed some real slick slight of hand on David's part (for example, the headless chicken trick was pretty damn obvious), but there was some stuff in there that truly blew me away.

I think my favorite was the one where he cowers in front of an old homeless man, takes his papercup of coffee into both hands, holds onto it real tight - until all of a sudden, the coffee turns into coins - to the delight of the homeless guy and to the shock of the viewer. The camera never left the cup, and Tivo didn't provide any clues, so despite much pondering on that trick since, I'm still pretty damn baffled.
(This site however has some insider/spoiler info on some of David's tricks.)

As I watched people freak out, stand there in quiet astonishment, or start to cry hysterically after one of his tricks, it occured to me that Blaine - had he been born, say, 2000 years ago - might have elicited similar kinds of responses. But with a totally different historical outcome.

Religious zealots (welcome to my site, valued Opus Dei readers!) will condemn me to hell for this (hey, I'm going already anyway ...), but here's my theory nonetheless: what if Jesus was simply a glorified David Blaine? Maybe with a bit more purpose and spirituality - but what if his "miracles" were simply tricks? What if this handsome, charming and no doubt charismatic man, who travelled the lands and picked up followers like modern-day groupies, performed his miracles to merely amuse, astound, and earn himself a living (was he maybe tired of carpentry? It's possible!)? And what if the resurrection was his ultimate trick?

This of course ties in neatly with the whole Da Vinci Code theory (movie yesterday was so-so, book was better) that Jesus was a mortal man, married to Marie Magdalene, and the father of a daughter - and not a pure, divine being like the catholic church wants to make you believe.

Honestly. I think even regular church-goers and believers can see the logic in this possibility, no? Why else would the Vatican be freaked out like that? [Interestingly, they didn't condemn the similarly-themed movie Stigmata with the same fervor - probably because its profile was a lot lower than The Da Vinci Code, and it was passed off as a horror movie (which it wasn't).]

All in all, it's a fascinating topic and one the world should have put up for discussion long ago - care to comment, dear readers?

So much to blog, so little time.

But this one was too sweet not to mention.

The blogosphere has been buzzing today about O'Reilly sending a cease-and-desist letter to IT@Cork, demanding (yes, that's the legal term) that they not use "Web 2.0" in the title of their conference.

Everything clever and poignant that could possibly be said about the subject has been done so in the comments of above link - so I'm just going to quote a few of my personal favorites:

"Let's pull that bug out of O'Reilly's ass, and start calling it Web 2.1 - the bug fix release ;-)"

"Now this is how you go about rubbing people the wrong way."

"I and a very few other bloggers had jumped to the conclusion that this must be CMP's blunder; surely Tim O'Reilly was too savvy to make such a mistake. You have proven us fools, and that we will not forget."

"This is typical O'Reilly, really. Greed. Makes him a hypocrite too... Shame on you Tim."

...and my all-time favorite:

"Hopefully you'll agree to change your name before we ask a judge to issue an injunction against you prior to the launching of next month's 'Sara Winge Is A Giant Hemorrhoid Conference.'"

In the interest of full disclosure (and unless you're not one of my regular, alert readers), I must mention that I used to work for O'Reilly from 1997 to 2001 (I got laid off 30 days after Sept. 11) in the function of their "Online Evangelist". My boss used to be none other than Sara Winge.

A WIRED article on Tim last year triggered a long-overdue top-popping by yours truly - detailed here - and so the only thing I really have to say about O'Reilly even attempting to register "Web 2.0" as a trademark is this:

Guys - for f***s sake. Pull your heads out of your asses, already. You didn't used to be so dumb and uncool when I was there. What the f*** happened?

If you answered "no" to above question, you better go and take this quiz.

In the very least, you might get enlightened why you shouldn't be using those fucking flashy, blinky, glittery banners. Like - EVER. It makes people's eyes bleed, don't ya know?

But deep down, I always knew there was a reason why I hated MySpace, and why I refused to be part of a site that breeds such a crapload of horrendous web design. Now I have 5 reasons.

And where the hell are those DOS attacks when you really need them? I can't remember the last time I heard of one shutting down a site. Pity, really. MySpace would be the perfect target. I weep for the good old dot.com times. Oh, how I miss them.

Link via Jake.

On the Bright Side: They Are Made Out of Meat.

It used to be that my house sat by a quaint litte river, commonly known as the Little Deschutes. A good 3/4 acre of open, grassy meadow separated the structure from the calm and steady-flowing waters - often frequented by deer, rabbit, geese and an ever-growing variety of birds.

That all has changed however. I now live by a lake. The grassy meadow is no more - and with it our horseshoe pits (and the half-logs surrounding it), our firewood stash, and the firepit itself, partially stocked with some dry branches and ready for that mid-summer night camping fire.



Yepp, the actual river is that tiny little strip of water you can see, far off in the distance...

The deer and rabbits have fled, its too wet even for the geese, and as cruel as it may sound - we secretly hope that all the gopher and prairie dog tunnels that riddle our lawn have turned into wet graves for their occupants.

So what happened?

A little thing called "snowmelt" - that's what happened. The fact that Central Oregon got something like 150% above average snowfall last season may be grounds for smiles and laughs for all the farmers downstream - but it sure isn't quite as entertaining for those whose properties are flooded right about now due to the recent warm weather.

Luckily, we don't have any structures in the flood plane - but there is another, definite, and more annoying side to all this water: it has unleashed the invasion of the monster toads.

As I sat on my couch last night, consuming my Tivo-ed dose of the "Daily Show", I suddendly noticed a deep, droning sound. Like an alien language. It resounded through the entire flooded area and beyond. QUAAAACK!

And I'm not talking in a meek sort of fashion. No. This was LOUD. QUAAAAK! Revved-up-hot-rod kinda loud. QUAAAK!

The voices of innummerable toads, announcing - no doubt - their joy about their new-found real estate, rang through the night. And through my ears, right into my brain. My head wanted to explode (think Mars Attacks!).

Only long after night had fallen, and I had bleary-eyed been turning and tossing in my bed for hours, did silence finally bless the dark and my sleep.

I can't wait for tonight....