Sic (Ottawa) Transit (in)Gloria Mundi...

Huh. On Day 51, call the Ottawa transit strike "officially done". Stick a fork in it. And one apiece into Mayor Larry O'Brien, and union leader Andre Cornellier, for utter disgrace under pressure. Oh, hell! Bring out all the place settings and start forkin' everybody over! There's plenty of responsibility to go 'round.

The city and the union last evening agreed to binding arbitration - as much as any two parties with a big honkin' federal gun to their heads can be said to "agree". Seems it was pretty much the solution proposed within the first two days, before the Mayor and the leader of the union local turned the whole city into an arena for an epic personal pissin' match, the like of which even coyotes rarely witness. And we know from pissin' matches.

Now, we semimythical coyotes are never bitter, cynical and obsessive, or anything. Even as we lick chafed and frozen appendages. However, we suspect it will be highly instructive to observe (and carefully note) the order and speed with which this sorry affair's numerous flawed leads and over-confident second bananas trot out their individual attempts to publicly grab credit and apply their over-torqued spins, pre-fab self-justifications, and weaselly personal self aggrandizations. Oh, wait... it's already begun!

Less than 30 minutes after the announcement, unless the cheesy dollar-store digital clock I picked out of the trash one long-ago recycling night was even more bafflingly inaccurate than usual...

Now, excuse me. I'm going to go suck my frostbitten paws. But I'm not bitter. Or anything...

Galling Galileo Gamesmanship

Poor Galileo Galilei. First his works were banned by the church. Then the father of modern science was subject to house arrest. In his final years he was completely blind, having suffered vision problems throughout his life.

Of course, it didn't stop him from making earthshaking breakthroughs in astronomy and physics, including discovery of Jupiter's largest satellites and early analysis of sunspots. Not to mention design of the first automatic tomato picker.

Now some overly zealous British and Italian scientists want to exhume Galileo's body to determine whether his irregular sight affected his findings.

Is this any way to celebrate the 400th anniversary of Galileo's initial use of a refracting telescope? Methinks not. Memo to scientists: my astronomical mentor is not a shovel-ready experiment.

ESI - Smarter Than Fifth Graders

Aggie's Pirate Chest Nestled Next to Her Favourite Port

Aggie, Fourth Dwarf, and I met at Pandora's house in the sky to play LOOT - The Plundering Pirate Card Game, and drink some of Aggie's economical winter drink.

"The game is for ages ten and up," I comment innocently.

"Oh, that means it's going to be hard," worries Aggie sweetly.

"A ten year old is a fifth grader," adds Fourth Dwarf.

"That's when kids are at their smartest," Pandora elaborates.

"That right, Pandora," concludes Fourth Dwarf, "and that's why so many people aren't smarter then a fifth grader."

Google Poem: More than one way?

* if you think the only way to get laid is by drugging someone in order to sleep with you, that is rape and you need to be locked up

* best way to get laid is put her on her stomach, take down that panty shield, and poke until she makes sounds

* Perhaps the best way to get laid is to lead a life worth living.

* Fastest way to get laid is to know what artist your gurl likes most and buy all their albums! You have no idea how many times I have to listen to Chris Brown or Justin Timberlake!

* The best way to get laid is to put on some slow jazz music.

* The best way to get laid is without having to use a pickup line; weed out the sober ones who still have their morals intact!

* I am thinking that the easist way to get laid is to hit the club

* It's a truism worthy of Yogi Berra to say that the best way to get laid is to lose your virginity.

* many neanderthals believe that the best way to get laid is to just get her drunk. Don’t get me wrong; that is a fantastic idea if you’ve been married or in a long-term relationship and she is just not in the mood very often

* an easy way to get laid is baking tasty shit for people who think that stuff is hard. ...

* And the best way to get laid is to pretend to be someone else who is cooler than yourself.

* the only way to get laid is… to be rich!

* I was obviously wrong, and the only way to get laid is by emotional manipulation. I have found, from personal experience, that virginity leads to feelings of shame, rage, frustration, inadequacy, isolation, alienation, ...

* a dude in his underwear sitting in his mom's and dad's basement decides the best way to get laid is to lie (this is actually true) so he puts up an improbable Craigslist post trolling for some 15 year old choke job chicken head

* Look at the 40 Year Old Virgin and similar movies, where the sexually-inexperienced male is advised by his “wiser”, more experienced friend(s) that the best way to get laid is to look for the drunkest girl at the party ...

* Seems to me that the way to get laid is to dress up in a hilarious Disney character costume. This also means that you will get to handle celebrity tits.

* Û² So a kid is ~Censored~ and the only way to get laid is to go to ²Û. Û² this ultra school of ~Censored~ kids and here the first thing that ²Û. Û² happens to him is getting rapped by the principal who is g3y and has ²Û ...

* Arabs want sex just as much as Westerners but they are taught that it is dirty and the only “respectable” way to get laid is to get married.

* This brought upon me an epiphany: The easiest way to get laid is to feed off a woman’s jealousy.

* The best way to get laid is to fake confidence and don't listen too much.

[NSFW Disney Photoshop]

RNDP 22: Could Television be the Answer?

Pearl Jam fan, Raino, blogged a list of pick-up lines this week. The lines do not yet appear to have been field-tested, but they show promise. Here are several:

5) Is there a mirror in yer pants? cuz I can see myself in em.

6) If you was a tree & I was a Squirrel, I'd store my nuts in yer hole.

7) You might not be the best lookin girl here, but beauty's only a light switch away.

8) I know I'm not no Fred Flintstone, but I bet I can make yer bed-rock.

Like I said, they show promise. But, at more than 2 years old, they're not new, and no matter how effective, potentially offensive pickup lines are not revolutionary. So while they could be a component of the Revolutionary New Dating Paradigm (RNDP), they're not going to be the foundation.

This may not be the case for the recommendations coming from two young university researchers, Magpie and Jake. While they probably consider themselves to be more scholars of hooking up than of dating, I believe they have stumbled on something significant. As Magpie reports, the secret is: Television.

In What to Take to University (to Get Laid at University), Jake tells students going off to live in a university residence, "All you need is downloaded TV, a heavy duvet and a mattress topper."

It is of course assumed that all university students have laptops that will play the downloaded TV shows. The mattress topper makes the standard dormitory bed soft and comfortable, the duvet makes for a cozy bed that a person wouldn't want to leave.

In What to Take to University (to Get Laid at University) II, Jake suggests an Ikea mood-setting lamp, but I suspect that's just icing on the cake.

I don't believe Magpie and Jake are even on the same continent, but Magpie is completely on board with the television paradigm. In How to Get Laid (an Introduction), she takes Jake's work further and advises on what to expect from a man based on the show he invites his prospects to see.

Battlestar Galactica Guy: If he likes BSG, he's a keeper. I can't imagine hooking up to BSG (okay, I've done it) because it's just so fuckingintenseandgoodzomfg!!!!! that I'd get distracted. But I supposed a guy who likes BSG is Godly, so do him, do him fast.

Kudoes to both of these young scholars. They are out there researching these important topics and doing their own fieldwork. Magpie has even developed a set of instructions for women who would like to watch television shows with a man without sex taking place. ("1. Do NOT go under the blankets.")

Here is Jake's summary:

So to recap, have a comfy bed, and invite people over to watch TV/movies. At the very least how she behaves, whether she agrees to get under the covers/lie next to you etc, is a litmus test for what chances there are of anything else happening, and at the luckiest the spooning will lead to much more and you'll end up having to wash those sheets even sooner than you expected!

Feline Embrace

ESI BeaverBalls™… Got Any?

Now we know that not blogging gets a coyote in a lotta trouble. Late this week I was whacked with a rolled-up newspaper and locked in the doghouse ummm, ESI Product Development Lab. To repent. Instead, I sat among early Mumumelon™, ChickUn™ and lingerie prototypes and had another (ahem) stroke of genius.

The Independent Observer's recent exposition of the disturbing eating habits of Canada's national animal got me thinkin' laterally: those guys in the beaver themed cook shacks on the canal sell huge fried pastries, in dozens of tasty flavours. What if a guy just wants smaller, budget- and diet-friendly snacks with his hot chocolate? Teeny noshes for lean times? Especially if they have the dim-sum-esque quality of being small and diverse enough to con you into overeating them outrageously encourage you to have another. Our marketing department is always thinkin' like that.

So this week, a brand new product introduction: ESI BeaverBalls™!* Deep-fried pastry so tastry, real beavers abandon their own nether regions for it!

And with them, a new ESI contest! Here's the deal: We need a full range of picturesquely-named product. BeaverBalls™ being a completely original concept, toppings like the other guys' Killaloe Sunrise - butter, castor(heh) sugar, cinnamon and a squeeze of lemon juice - are nonstarters. We wouldn't dream of ripping off flavours from our pals on the canal. I'm thinking lotsa maple syrup. Oh, wait...

So dear readers: suggest flavours for our new ESI BeaverBalls™, and Woodsy will whomp up a dozen for the winner(s) - in their winning flavour(s). (We originally thought her rare, collectors-item Hooters T shirt, but decided to save it for another contest...) Think diversity. The sky's the limit. And Aggie, who always gets it right, says we need savouries as well as sweets. Vegan, if you like - say tamari sauce and toasted sesame seeds. I'm personally thinkin' Calgary Coronary: Gruyere and tons of bacon bits. Betcha can't eat just one. We and our loan officer are counting on it…

BeaverBalls™. Got any? Show us!

*(Discarded) slogan suggestion: Not suspiciously similar to TimBits. And even more Canadian.

Feeling pushed?

A national stamp of approval

Let's face it. All this Obamamania is making us Canadians envious.

But our politicians just don't have that kinda sizzle. Elevating them to hero status? Puh-leeze. A recent poll showed many people had trouble naming our first and arguably most visionary prime minister, Sir John A. Macdonald.

Even our national icons get no respect. Writer and activist June Callwood once lamented, "The beaver, which has come to represent Canada as the eagle does the United States and the lion Britain, is a flat-tailed, slow-witted, toothy rodent known to bite off its own testicles or to stand under its own falling trees."

So let's pause for a moment, stop chewing our nether regions, and honour the true Canadian heroes of peace, order and good government by unveiling the first in a series of ESI postage stamps.

Moisten your tongue and get ready to lick The Deputy Ministers.

Dream Interpretation Request #2

I need help to interpret another one of my dreams.

Zoom, I was in the back of a police car with a hottie policeman, and he said that we had to make out. I thought, Well, he's a policeman, I have to listen to what he says.

Megan, when pants removal ensued, I realized he was actually a policewoman with a derriere to rival Kim Bassinger's tooshie.

What does it all mean?

RNDP 21: This Week's Developments

Game theorists at University College London, University of Warwick and the London School of Economics and Political Science have found an explanation for why dating can take so long. Their conclusion? "Courtship enables a male to signal his suitability to a female and enables the female to screen out the male if he is unsuitable as a mate."

These researchers raise an interesting question. Why do humans spend as long as they do choosing mates?

One partner - often the male - may pay the greater part of the financial cost, but to both sexes there is a significant cost of time which could be spent on other productive activities. Why don't people and other animals speed things up to reduce these costs?

- Mathematician Robert Seymour

How did they answer this question? They built a mathematical model based on a number of assumptions that include:

• Women are trying to avoid mating with "bad" mates, but can't tell who is "good" from surface characteristics;
• Men whether good or bad, will mate with any women; and
  
• A "good" man will not give up on a courtship as early as a "bad" man will.

From a female's point of view, males are not all equal. A female would like to mate with a good male, but cannot tell a male's type from his appearance alone. The strategic problem the female faces is how to screen out bad males, and this is where long courtship comes into play. A male is assumed to always want to mate with a female, but a good male is more willing to pay the cost of a long courtship in order to claim the prize of mating. This leads to an outcome in which the female is not willing to mate immediately, but instead requires the male to wait for an indeterminate time before she agrees to mate with him. During this time, the male may give up on courting the female.

- Dr Peter Sozou

This is one of those studies that makes me want to play with the software and modify the assumptions. For example, if "bad" men knew that giving up signaled they were bad, and "good" men knew they were hot properties and could get action elsewhere, and maybe also cared whether they were with a "good" or "bad" partner, could we still wind up with long courtships? Even though it meant that the women were likely to wind up with bad partners?

In other news, social neurobiologist Dr Larry Young at the Yerkes National Primate Center reports that there is still no workable love potion.

Blue Cats

5 reasons why Coyote isn't blogging today...

1) Frozen ears.

2) Frozen paws.

3) Frozen nose.

4) Frozen tail.

5) I'm pretty sure there was a fifth thing - but it's either too numb to count anymore, or else it froze off completely...

Ottawa cats sleeping on the coldest night of the year

Canadian Graffiti

Dream Interpretation Request

I dreamed that I was Steve McQueen and that I was boffing Marilyn Monroe. What the hell does that mean?

Things that should be paralyzing Ottawa in 2009

1. The City of Ottawa master-computer goes to war with the NCC master-computer. Snowplows battle it out with ice groomers while humans cower in their homes.
2. Everyone is grounded because all jetpacks made since 2005 are recalled to replace exploding components created by Moscow hackers who want to claim the 2nd-coldest capital honour for their city.
3. A coolant leak shuts down the superconducting coil in the monorail system.
4. City is evacuated because northwest winds are bringing a radioactive fallout cloud from a nuclear meltdown at Deep River.
5. A new psycho-pharmaceutical has made everyone telepathic so there is no need to go anywhere.

Harmony in cat world

The Middle East is a mess. The bus strike continues with no end in sight. The economy continues to suck. But, it's all love and peace here in cat world. If they can work it out, anyone can!

In the nick of name

OK OK OK, so the transit strike is still on. But what's really grabbing the chattering class - at least the one that chatters on the Globe & Mail letters page - is a deplorable and disrespectful media tendency to label the new opposition leader, Michael Ignatieff, as "Iggy". Shame!

Some go so far as to suggest a Tory smear campaign to reduce the head Liberal guy's stature in the eyes of the Canadian public, both by trivializing his name and associating him with some guys called "The Stooges". As if that would ever happen... Are Tories really so dumb as not to realize Iggy and the Stooges are (were?)* a kick-ass band?

Actually I discount this theory a little less after a quick coyote snuffle through Google images -- I note that most media outlets metalabel Mr I's web images with his full last name. Except those tighty-righty funsters at The National Post, who use, yes, "Iggy".

This got me thinking. With the exception of G.W. Bush, who is socially tone-deaf and maladroit to a fault, and Newfoundland's premier Danny Williams, who calls him "Stevie" just to piss him off, most public comment on our prime minister just labels him "Harper" . Except the Petfinder, whose retro-archaic stylebook insists on giving everybody an honorific such as "Mr." or "Mrs.". Even Michael Jackson, who appears to be neither of the above.

But we coyotes say fair is fair. If we are willing to degrade the tone of the nation's public discourse so much as to call Michael Ignatieff "Iggy" in headlines, then Mr Harper deserves parallel treatment, no matter how starchily he tries to stare down transgressors. "Stevie" is all well and fine, but in recognition of his performance of late - oh, all right, his performance, period - I nominate "Harpo". Because... heh... I do believe that associating him with anybody named Marx is gonna piss him off more than "Stevie"...

* R.I.P. Ronald Franklin Asheton July 17, 1948 - January 6, 2009

Unsurprising breaking news: Transit strike continues

Transit workers yesterday rejected the city's 'final' offer in a federally-supervised vote requested by the mayor and council.

The 75 per cent margin among those who voted appears to be a convincing rejection of the city's offer, and of Mayor-Larry-driven negotiating tactics that tried to bypass union leadership.

A recent poll suggested most Ottawa residents sided with council, calling the offer "fair" and saying transit employees should accept it and get the hell back to work.

But we coyotes can't help wondering if this had something to do with the City's carpet bombing propaganda blitz, featuring multiple full-page Petfinder ads per day. All of which pretty much called the offer "fair" and said transit employees should accept it and get the hell back to work. The union hasn't exactly been fattening local media ad coffers to win hearts and minds, so the poll results are make sense with that in mind. And frankly, most Ottawhatamies are pretty tired of adapting to no buses, as magnificent as they are at it, whether they're union-friendly or not.

Now, neither side is exactly covered in glory here. I have heard from possibly reliable sources* that senior drivers game that contentious scheduling roster system to work less and earn more. But the city negotiated that system to address serious Transpo dysfunction and morale problems a decade back, and drivers took long-term pay cuts in exchange for it. I wonder why city ads don't address this sore point, and harp instead on wage offers that on the surface indeed look "fair"? Those disingenuous full-pagers and negotiating (negatiating?) tactics make bulls in china shops look positively sprightly and graceful by comparison. Landed giant squids flopping airlessly, I can see.

Last night, in an attempt to substitute his personal reality for the one he habitually rejects, the mayor slipped 300 union members who didn't vote, into the percentage of those that actually voted to reject the offer, to style his smackdown as closer to 64 per cent. Ummm.... by that pretzel logic, the vast majority of citizens that didn't vote for him in the last municipal election deserve a different mayor, don'cha think...?

I still blame Larry. But I always do.

* Someone who knows someone. You know how it goes.

Ti-gris is bad....

Ti-gris is out of control. OK, all you cat people out there --- how do you "train" a kitten? Also, how do I help my calm, older cat deal with the trauma of having an insane younger brother. Help!

Changing the channel

Don't look outside, just gaze at the photo

It's a Hoot

A few years ago, when Hooters first came to Ottawa, I thought it would be entertaining to see what all the fuss was about.

A male companion and I sat down at a table, and after a long wait a cute blond waitress skipped over to us. I admired her fit body clad in tiny tight sports shorts (the kind I had worn when I was sixteen) and her tight little wife beater t-shirt with the trademark protruding owl eyes design. She placed both elbows on the table, leaned over and cleverly aimed her tits at us.

"And what can I bring you folks today," she giggled smacking her gum.

She took our order and as she wiggled off I looked at my companion curious about his reaction.

"It's all just an act you know. She's a university student trying to earn an honest living," he stuttered as I noticed the deep blush on his face.

On the Web: Dipthong and Homeslice

I'm sure you've all seen that Language Log is promoting the use of the word "dipthong" as an insult. Chris Pott's writes:

My wife's (very scholarly) Forbes Library book club is reading Jonathan Lethem's Motherless Brooklyn this month. The book seems to be full of wonderfully inventive swearing. Last night, my wife read this one aloud to me (p. 170):

If I wanted a gun, I'd get a gun, you diphthong.

Diphthong works remarkably well as a pejorative. Curious about whether this was Lethem's innovation, I searched the Net for "you diphthong", figuring that the initial pronoun would cut down on merely phonological discussions. Precision was still poor — a mixture of phonological discussions of you and fortuitous juxtapositions of these two words by programs for generating random text, but the search did turn up a few cases of genuine expressivity, and I discovered that the Urban Dictionary has an entry:

1. diphthong: A vowel combination consisting of a weak vowel and a strong one. It is more commonly used as an insult, seeing as it is a legitimately funny word.
There is a diphthong in "loud."
YOU'RE A DIPHTHONG.

[Source]

You'll be happy to know that I've gone to the Urban Dictionary and thumbs-upped the above definition. And you'll also be happy to know that other uses of dipthong as an insult show up on Google when you put an asterisk between "you" and "dipthong", for example:

• "Here you are at last, are you, you blankety-blank mick dipthong!" he yelled blood-thirstily. "Where you been? You want to make a nervous wreck outa me?
  
• I’ll go to federal prison before I play this charade with you, you duplicitous, grandstanding dipthong.

I am happy that highly-regarded Language Log (Technorati Authority: 872) is using the Urban Dictionary to promote words just like I am.

Although I am sad to see that you dipthongs (not you, Zoom) have not been voting for my definition of homeslice. Maybe if one or two of you would come through, I'd be back at number 1.

Introducing.....Ti-Gris!

Dischevelled Man (DM) and I adopted Ti-Gris the other day. We've had some bad Humane Society experiences lately where kitties were snatched right from under us, so this time we were ready. The moment Ti-Gris was brought in and put in the cage, we were all over him. He purred non-stop and kissed me. He also had a glowing write-up from his foster parents who said they "almost" adopted him themselves. Other Humane Society clients gathered around us and looked at us with envy. We had the best cat in the building! DM pointed out that we already have a gray cat. "We already discussed that," I whispered loudly. Sometimes DM doesn't remember our previous discussions.
We are doing what the Humane Society recommended and keeping Ti-Gris separate from his big brother. His big brother is not impressed....more like depressed. Ti-Gris is insane. He attacked my bare face with open claws. But he is adorable and sweet and has the motor going constantly. DM has suggested calling the Humane Society to see if we could exchange him for an older, calmer cat. This is not going to happen.

Broken News: Ottawa Transit Strike, Day 27...

Suddenly, the city brain trust had a brilliant idea: reduce rush-hour traffic snarls downtown by quickly changing temporary street parking rules (again), and towing away vehicles that had arrived to park earlier.

No word yet how those lucky commuters are going to get home. Or to the auto impound...

Update

CBC evening news says the powers-that-be, after much negative publicity, apparently saw the error of their ways late in the day. Refunds for $80 parking tickets, towing charges and impoundment fees all 'round! We're still wondering whether those lucky commuters will be reimbursed for their time, or their trek to the auto impound. But we're just picky that way...

6-month Review: Bring on the Cats and the Housing Talk

In amongst all my other important blogging activity, I've taken some time to look at our Google Analytics reports.

First up is the line graph of hits. Our top day in the past six months was November 26th. That is the day I.O. posted a pleasant photo of an Italian athlete. However, it's more likely that the spike came from the previous day's Tanktop Tuesday featuring our good friend Duncan the DogCat.

Obvious lesson: We need more cats on the blog.

Next I looked at what search phrases brought people to us. First is our name. Second? It's Ottawa Housing Market. People come here for this even though we are only on Google's first page of hits if the user has set their preferences to 100 hits per page.

Bring it on, Irregulars.