I’m confused. Apparently Big Jake is running pornography for the eighth time? Or something like that. O’C just sent out some message about the XXX version of the VIII tournament. This hardly sounds like forensics to me (except for You Know Who and the All Girl Band, about which the less said the better). I guess pretty soon I’ll have to send out a Bump invitation if I want to keep up. This will be our NC-17th year of operation, if you’re wondering. O’C’s message does solve the biggest mystery of the weekend, however, which is why he couldn’t respond to my urgent argument-solving text asking if there were undead in Indiana Jones IV. He was just too busy making VIII into an XXX vaganza when, in fact, he’s supposed to be training Kentuckwegians on how to refute Habermas. I’ll bet you Habermas answers his text messages.
Once again this weekend I saw demonstrated why Apple is Apple and everything else isn’t. A few weeks ago I installed an AirPort base station, and it was as easy as cake. Unfortunately, while it did for the first time get a signal to the furthest reaches of the chez, it wasn’t much of an one, as G&S might say, although it was better than the previous nothing. I tried using my old Belkin to extend the network, and I’m sure it would work, provided I was willing to take a few months of night school training in advanced metaphysics at the local Diplomas ‘R’ Us, but I couldn’t get it to do anything but blink in impotent snideness. So I bought another AirPort, and 5 minutes later, there’s a green light glowing in the hinterlands of the chez and enough strength-of-signal bars to energize WTF’s minute-by-minute analysis of the arrival of the novices into LAX for years to come. I love Apple. They do really make products that work well and they build them so that you can figure out how to use them. On the down side, the signal is so strong that a lot of homeless people are now hanging out in my driveway, using the chez for free internet access. I never should have sent my network password to those Nigerian Viagra salesmen…
Not much else of note. We’re seriously figuring Massachusetts for the Northeast Chumps (I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that yet), and we’ll probably have the First-Timers MHL at the Bronx, in aid of attracting more Manhattanites. Everything is still up in the air, though, although the dates are settled. I would expect much quiet on the forensic front for the next couple of months, as schools are out and institutes are in, and mostly people will be doing mental target practice. But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop writing. You should be so lucky. I never stop writing, because there’s always something going on, even if only in my mind. And I’m sure you’ll be looking here for WTF updates in between their minute-by-minute reports. Some folks, I know, want to read about every second of the event. If you’re one of them, then you’ve come to the right place.
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