Pretty Krazy Dude

The flight from Buenos Aires reminded me that I'm getting more and more sick of long flights. Ironic that I just wrote new short-shorts about memory editing (bcifi.org).

Speaking of scifi, I saw a video with a talk from Philip K. Dick, one of the great sci fi writers ever. Good title:

"If you think this world is bad, you should see some of the others."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbYiXyRZjM

It kinda made sense for the first few minutes. Effective metaphor with replacing pictures. I then spent a few more minutes wondering if I was just too dumb to understand him or he's just insane. The rest of his talk, I just mentally composed new ways to express his insanity. That guy took one amphetamine too many. One after another. 

He had sodium pentothal, which triggered memories of alternate universes he experienced. He said The Man in the High Castle and Flow my Tears the Policeman said were nonfiction; they're both in the same "Track B" universe that is worse than ours. He was very proud because his alternate self fought against evil in this other universe and apparently died in action. 

Around 11:45, he talks about "The Matrix world" and I wonder if that influenced the Matrix movies. His talk was in 1977; he mentioned he had seen Star Wars that morning. He had a lot of futuristic gibberish about reprogramming, lateral time, and dreaming at a subcortical level. Oh yeah, speaking of mind/brain references: 

That guy is nuttier than his own last name. 

He had more screws loose than the Boeing I flew home.

Wackier than a teenager with his first dirty magazine.

He's madder than a March wig. 

Loopier than the Kellogg's factory.

Battier than Carlsbad Caverns.

Further out in left field than the stadium parking lot. 

Daffier and Goofier than all of Disney.

His mind is more twisted than all of his DNA combined. 

He is more certifiable than all cattle. 

More off his rocker than granny right after a nuke. 

Baño Banality

Travelers often comment on local nature, people, buildings, culture, dining and drinking, and worse. But those last two travel activities inevitably inspire a tour of the toilet, journey to the john, pilgrimage to the pisser, outing to the outhouse. Prior posts have commented on the migration of urinal flies (excluding to China), Atlantan Urine Detection Devices, and silly toilet signs. While looking up those four links I realized I have many other posts on bathroom banality and should move on to something more mature. 

Instead, here's a bathroom sign in Argentina. Like the German toilet signs, they add pictures so tourists and illiterates have no excuse. We learn that men are expected to pee standing up, like most men in... well, men, period. Except native German speakers. However, the icon of a man (?) missing the toilet also implies a few things about why (male) urine is often found on or around toilets instead of in them.

First, my weightlifting adventures never focused on muscles to pee further. The picture below implies I'm nonetheless way ahead of the curve. This poor guy is dribbling just in front of him. Notice the weird body position with his wee weenie pushed forward so he doesn't wet his own feet. I couldn't piss that weakly if I tried. Yes I can write my name in the snow - men take great pride in that essential contribution to humanity - and this loser could at best piddle a puddle. I suppose he could paint an icon that resembles a sun, lemon, or yellow face emoji devoid of detail. And his range is so weak that he'd soon melt the snow under his feet. 

Second, why not just stand closer to the toilet? 

Third, notice the puddle forming while he continues leaking. How long are you going to keep pissing in front of the toilet? 

Fourth, you might want to see a doctor about that.

Fifth, the guy's left hand seems to be hiding his weak wanker. I would too if it were that feeble. This is in stark contrast to the Germans. As mentioned, men are expected to pee sitting down, which explains so much about the Germans. But they aren't remotely subtle about the desired dingus direction. Either that or Gallant on the right is shitting a pistol or a pointing hand. I also appreciate that he wears his cap properly, while the guy on the left wears it backward to emphasize he's a bad boy. The Goofus on the left also doesn't seem to have any hands, in stark contract to the Argentine equivalent above.

I read Highlights for Children. I tried to be Gallant like a good boy. But they never taught me about peeing propriety. Shame on them, and America! I created this helpful illustration to teach English speakers how to pee German style:

The German influence in Argentina has unfortunately spread to toilets as well. Many Argentine toilets use the Flachspüler or "flat flush" approach:

My old boss John Polich commented that it looks like they're serving it to you. Indeed, this toilet design is ideal if you:

1. Wanna eat shit;
2. Enjoyed that last schnitzel so much you'd like to reminisce with it;
3. Keep eating valuables;
4. Don't want to pay for fertilizer;
5. Can't find your contact lenses;
6. Were deeply traumatized by splash-back; 
7. Own a company that makes toilet brushes;
8. Ran out of shelf space;
9. Hate whoever cleans the toilet;
10. Love the smell of napalm (and poop) in the morning. Smells like victory overeating;
11. Analyze poop for a living like the scientist in The Gods Must be Crazy or the king's scatologist in The Madness of King George;
12. Were told: "You think your shit doesn't stink" and want to double-check (every time);
13. Want to relive your primate roots through poo-flinging;
14. Plan to trick your very drunk friend into thinking it's rinder-roulade;
15. Love probiotics and thus want to reconnect with the bacteria that dominate daily dumps;
16. Misunderstood The Martian and think you need poo to grow potatoes on Earth;
17. Are named Gerwin Schalk, Christoph Guger, or over 90 million other native Germanspeakers.

Rinder-roulade

Robert Duvall loves the smell so much he just squats publicly. 

Mr. Watney, we're back on earth. Stop saving shit! We're sick of washing your astronaut suit. 

ADDENDUM TO THE ORIGINAL POST ABOVE:

Nothing like old friends to inspire more writing. Thanks, Dietrich!

He's right that the "shallow flush" approach enables inspection and introspection. I too have taken great pride in some exceptional excreta and felt like flushing was like losing a little piece of myself as it swirled away into underappreciated anonymity. But why should we remain limited to on-site visual inspection? Modern technology to the rescue!

Poo-cams could help you appreciate your BMs throughout the experience. Well, early in the process, they'd have to be in intestines or above, which is not beyond modern technology. You'd have all of the options available with other types of selfies. You could rotate, view in infrared, add CGI, magnify until you can watch the bacteria flagellate and die thanks to your callous abandonment. This could inspire a BCI short-short called Bowel Cam Interface. Prolly not written by me. 

You could also add tiny poo-trackers. Follow their long journey to their final resting place. You might be able to recover the cams months later from inside a septic tank or freshly grown apple.  

FURTHER ADDENDUM:

Wow, this post really inspired. Gerv sent me the picture below:

Six Degrees of Failure

I managed a nice hike here in Salta. Although I went early, it was still hot and humid, but worth it for the nice views:

In other blog entries, I noted how cheap massages were in Mexico. In the US, they cost somewhere around $2 per minute. In Mexico, they are about $1 per 2 minutes. Here in Argentina, they are a little bit cheaper. Concordantly, Ubers are even cheaper than Mexico or Romania. 

The grading system here relies on a score from 0-10. 10 is the best, and anything from 0-5 is a failing grade. 

Me to host: There are six types of failing grades?

Host: Yes. How many in the US?

Me: One. 

Grading for DUI is all failure. They have zero tolerance; if you blow a .01, you're busted. OTOH, look what they sell in stores:

Locals love yerba mate. Most of my students drank often from metal straws in metal cups filled with yerba mate and hot water. They'd fill their cup with hot water over and over, which reminded me of that yellow tea in Shanghai. You could sit at a restaurant for hours and they'd just add more hot water to your tea pitcher. No need to change the leaves because they somehow kept imparting the right amount of flavor. This still mystifies me. Not too strong, not too weak. 

Racial variety is very limited, both in people and restaurants. Montrose, CO has 20,000 people; Ridgway, CO has about 2000. Each of them has more different types of non-local food than Santa Fe, which has over 400,000 people. For example, Montrose has a Chinese restaurant, Nepalese restaurant, and Indian restaurant. Chinese and Indian restaurants are pretty popular in the US. Locals confirmed that Santa Fe has no Indian nor Chinese restaurants. I'd guess they're most prominent in India and China. 

The gyms here are the worst of anywhere I've seen. Old and cheap equipment, often broken. No air conditioner no matter how hot and humid it gets. I've broken out a sweat walking down the street shirtless at midnight. So yeah, A/C in a gym woulda been nice. 

Streets are sketchy too. I already mentioned the slidewalks and streets that are rarely flat. Intersections typically lack stop or yield signs and thus most intersections interactions rely on eye contact, posturing, and terror. Remember you can't run in or near streets since you have to watch each footstep carefully to figure out the right angle. I did tweak my right ankle fleeing a pushy driver. 

Most streets effectively have two lanes without any paint or other way to separate the two lanes. So, like with intersections, drivers kinda negotiate. Here's a view from one of those wonderfully inexpensive Ubers. I'm glad the locals can drive here, since I never could nor would.