Tag: Monty Python and The Holy Grail

Brainiac On Banjo: The Law and The Emoji

Brainiac On Banjo: The Law and The Emoji

Smiley face showin’ teeth. It ain’t nothing wrong. Strong among emoji ‘cause you know we growing strong. Heart eyes to my friends. I won’t bother ya. “Emoji,” written by Brooklyn Queen.

Our friends up in Canada have weighed in on an issue impacting every computer user in the known universe: can emojis be legally binding? This begs the question “should they?”

According to the Apple Insider newsletter a couple days ago, the King’s Bench for Saskatchewan stated/ruled they are. Yes, this was published in an Apple newsletter but, no, it affects people who deploy emojis on all sundry platforms.

“I deny that he accepted the thumbs-up emoji as a digital signature of the incomplete contract,” the victim’s attorney told the court. “I did not have time to review the … contract and merely wanted to indicate that I did receive his text message.” Justice Timothy Keene ruled the thumbs-up emoji is a “non-traditional means to sign a document but nevertheless under these circumstances this was a valid way to convey the two purposes of a signature.” Continue reading “Brainiac On Banjo: The Law and The Emoji”

Weird Scenes #123: The Royal Pudding

Weird Scenes #123: The Royal Pudding

Regular readers of this space (you might want to consider getting a real-life) will hardly be surprised to learn I am not a monarchist. To oversimplify just a little bit, I see the concept as another form of slavery. Indeed, my attitude towards the whole concept was best summed up by Dennis, in Monty Python and the Holy Grail:

“Oh, very nice. King, eh! I expect you’ve got a palace and fine clothes and courtiers and plenty of food. And how d’you get that? By exploiting the workers! By hanging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the social and economic differences in our society! If there’s EVER going to be any progress …”

Great Britain’s monarchy is rather pathetic. Outside of promoting tourism, it’s useless and intensely silly. Don’t get me wrong: I have great respect for Britain’s massive contributions to our popular culture and some of all that revolves around their monarchy, and of course that gives the proles something to bitch about. Just about the only good thing I can think of regarding this lingering malignancy is that it has contributed to our understanding of the pitfalls of inbreeding. How they keep their microcephalic numbers down to a minimum is quite a medical achievement, although perhaps a search of the Tower of London would be a wise idea.

©The Guardian

It is no surprise that the British royalty and the British press completely lost their minds over the interview Oprah Winfrey did this past weekend with the couple now called (perhaps in tribute to a different Monty Python routine) as Mister and Missus Harry and Meghan Mountbatten-Windsor. Oh, sure, it doesn’t amount to anything more than a mixture of racism, class superiority, and a distracting way to kill time as we wait for our Covid vaccine.

Among other things, the formerly royal couple noted the monarchy’s deep concern over the appearance of the then-unborn then-prince-to-be – and now, most assuredly, the forthcoming never-to-be-princess. In case you didn’t know, Mrs. Mountbatten-Windsor is half-Black. Or, actually, all-Black on her mother’s side. This means the children would be, assuming you don’t take a close look at the royal family tree (which is more of a shrub), at least one-quarter Black. So if Archie Mountbatten-Windsor popped out Black, or his sister pops out Black, the monarchy would be embarrassed. Humiliated, according to some.

It was decided Archie would not receive a royal title. I think he’s better off, and, really, should he defy the odds and have become King Archie, it would be difficult to make it through his coronation without giggling fits. But that’s not for me to say. Here in America, our executive management selection procedures are also influenced by anti-Black hysteria, so I’m not casting the first stone. But it’s understandable that his parents were royally pissed.

© Harpo Productions

The Brits do not like having their royals marry Americans. This is understandable only if you ignore the fact that, historically, the Brits have no problem with their royals marrying Europeans… and some of them didn’t even bother to learn English. So the idea of then-Prince Harry marrying a half-Black American woman who had the moxie to get pregnant – well, that just shattered the entire British empirical worldview.

This is bigotry of the highest level. And now the British press is screaming that such accusations are bullshit, that this is not racism in the least. But, you know, keep those damn mullatos away from the crown jewels.

I do not know if Mrs. Mountbatten-Windsor can vote in American elections, or if she will be able to in the future. Just the same, I do not recommend they try to register in Georgia.

Weird Scenes Inside the Gold Mind  #080: Visions, Softly Creeping

Weird Scenes Inside the Gold Mind #080: Visions, Softly Creeping

DEAD COLLECTOR (Eric Idle): Bring out your dead! / CUSTOMER (John Cleese): Here’s one. / DEAD COLLECTOR: Nine pence. / DEAD PERSON (John Young): I’m not dead! DEAD COLLECTOR: What? / CUSTOMER: Nothing. Here’s your nine pence. / DEAD PERSON: I’m not dead! / DEAD COLLECTOR: ‘Ere. He says he’s not dead! / CUSTOMER: Yes, he is. / DEAD PERSON: I’m not! / DEAD COLLECTOR: He isn’t? / CUSTOMER: Well, he will be soon. He’s very ill. / DEAD PERSON: I’m getting better! / CUSTOMER: No, you’re not. You’ll be stone dead in a moment. • Monty Python and The Holy Grail, 1975, written by Graham Chapman, John Cleese, Eric Idle, Terry Gilliam, Terry Jones, Michael Palin, and Sir Thomas Malory

What… too soon?

I really did not want to write about The Plague. Or Donald Trump, a.k.a. The Other Plague. I wrestled with this while reading texts from my younger friends about waiting outside of Costco for 45 minutes only to be stuck in a 60-minute check-out line behind a plethora of people buying their daily limit of rolled corpses of dead trees. Yeah, no disease spread there, right?

There’s little we can do about stopping The Plague itself, and there’s nothing we can do about The Other Plague until November… assuming The Other Plague grows balls big enough to try to call off the election. My latter comment does not fit the textbook definition of paranoia.

There are other things going on. For example, Tulsi Gabbard just quit the Democratic Party presidential race. I’ll pause while you go Wiki her. Ah, Tulsi, we hardly knew ye. Then again, given her exceptional loathing of the LGBTQ community, we hardly want to. She tossed her massive support – she won two delegates in American Samoa – to Joe Biden, who responded: “Thank you. And you are…?” Continue reading “Weird Scenes Inside the Gold Mind #080: Visions, Softly Creeping”