Everything2 Cool Archive

Pliers (thing)

2009-08-26T02:30:27Z

Pliers are one of the most common tools available to the consumer or professional. Pliers are used to grip or turn things, and operate by squeezing them closed in your hand. There are several different types of pliers but the most common are slip-joint pliers, linesman's pliers, needlenose pliers and some people consider channel-locks to be a form of pliers. The most important job a set of pliers does is grip. The two sections are the reason that a single tool is referred to as a "pair of pliers".

Slip-joint pliers are what most people think about when they use the word "pliers". Slip-joint pliers consist of two sections held together by an axle that shifts between two positions. The have a flat tip that closes completely in the outer position and remains open about 5mm in in the inner position. The flat outer section is good for gripping square or flat sections. Just inside is a larger rounded section good for gripping rounded things, like…

Aline, Countess of Romanones (person)

2003-02-19T22:29:12Z

Aline Griffith (1923 -), the Countess of Romanones, is the oldest child of William Griffith, Sr., who was a prominent industrialist in Pearl River, New York. During the early years of World War II Miss Griffith, being a typical American career girl, was expected someday to marry and raise a family. She had bigger things in mind, however. With two brothers already fighting in the war, she wanted to become involved herself.

At a party one night in 1944, she met a man by the name of John Derby. In casual conversation with him, Miss Griffith expressed her wish to be a part of the actual war effort – not just on the sidelines, and not just one of "the folks back home". Derby, sensing her seriousness, advised her that he might be able to help, and to expect a call within the next few days. The call came through and Miss Griffith was given an interview and a cryptic set of instructions.

A month later, Miss Griffith found…

monday morning after the zeitgeist (essay)

2009-11-04T14:51:56Z

(or: a metaphor for my point of view on E2)

It's a beautiful Monday morning when you find the book.

The sun is shining, you're in your new boots, picked up for a steal and laced with the strings of the old pair, which were left hanging over a high tension wire somewhere in the old barrio where they're busy pulling down crumbling old Victorian houses in order to make condos alongside the canal. Somewhere, birds are singing, bells are ringing, and the entire city feels like it's full of potential.

Bound with old but well-loved leather, it's the kind of thing you always wanted on your bookshelf, sandwiched between the manual on CSS and the box of Netra memory. It's been left on the bench, and you think perhaps someone owns it, but the hobos playing chess tell you the old owner set it down and left it a few hours ago and hasn't been back.

It goes in your pack, and later, in the…

Dennis Lehane (person)

2009-12-03T19:23:16Z

Character is action: the oldest law of writing.
It goes back to Aristotle. Plot is just a vehicle in which you see them act.

- Dennis Lehane, in an interview with Linda Richards,
January Magazine, March, 2001

It makes perfect sense, no? We're wired to be intrigued by people. And what does art do but work within the wiring? You'll notice that I did, indeed, say "art" there. I'll be getting into the relationship, if there is one, between art and genre shortly.

I probably like Dennis Lehane so much because I didn't start with his Kenzie/Gennaro books. I'm glad I didn't. You shouldn't either; they were his first novels, and more important, they're a series. Before you start defending series: I know. Peter Straub and his novelist, Stephen King and his gunslinger, both critically and commercially successful. Call it a quirk of mine. But Lehane…

Daily Evil - Monday, September 25th (idea)

2000-09-27T05:57:12Z

I sneak Megan R., the one kid who does not suck, into the darkened school kitchen. We whisper and steal cookies. This is:

a. theft
b. theft on the clock
c. me ignoring the other kids I am supposed to be preventing from eating the safety scissors
d. me allowing one kid special privileges, i.e. the good cookies vs. the crummy cookies I am about to give everyone else.

We emerge. I encourage Megan R. to flaunt her Chipsahoy! status to all the lowly graham cracker-eaters. She does. The others are pissed. I tell them they will receive good cookies when they are good people.

Evil Rating:7 of 10. Deviousness, trickery, theft. A good day all around.

Everything2 Decaversary Interviews: Mr. Hotel (person)

2009-11-13T12:09:56Z

1. What is your name?

M. "Rude Boy Chi Grub" Hotel

2. What is your quest?

More than four hours of continuous sleep.

3. What is your favorite color?

Clear.

4. How are you, and what have you been up to?

Generally exhausted. I hung up my E2 reins, finished college, got a job making noise and breaking things, and started a family (in roughly that order).

5. How did you discover Everything, and how did you become a noder?

I found E1 through slashdot, made a few entries, then left. I came back to the site several years later through the slashdot E2 sidebar widget... I can't remember what node exactly had a title that resonated with me at the time, but it was one of icicle's (maybe Seriously, though, who the hell did I think I was going to become?). I came back and for a long time E2 was the right place for me to be. It was a good place for me to offload a lot of loneliness, then rejoice in…

St. John's College (place)

2002-05-17T22:27:08Z

In the United States, St. John's College is a four year, liberal arts college with two campuses: one in Annapolis, Maryland and another in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Enrollment is capped at 400 students at each campus. All the students take the same, mandatory "Great Books" curriculum:

The St. John's College "Great Books" List

"The following teachers will return to St. John's College again this year:"

FRESHMAN YEAR

HOMER: Iliad, Odyssey
AESCHYLUS: Agamemnon, Libation Bearers, Eumenides, Prometheus Bound
SOPHOCLES: Oedipus Rex, Oedipus at Colonus, Antigone, Philoctetes
THUCYDIDES: Peloponnesian War
EURIPIDES: Hippolytus, Bacchae
HERODOTUS: Histories
ARISTOPHANES: Clouds
PLATO: Meno, Gorgias, Republic, Apology, Crito, Phaedo, Symposium, Parmenides, Theatetus, Sophist, Timaeus, Phaedrus
ARISTOTLE: Poetics, Physics, Metaphysics, Nicomachean Ethics, On Generation and…

Dear whoever (poetry)

2009-11-28T05:10:32Z

This winter's afternoon, I sit
here in my third-floor, lacquer-washed
little glass box.

The boss is away, and there is
just enough work, if I forget
the filing, to fill
half
the time until five.

(I find, somehow, that I can
always forget the filing.)

And so, I write.

When I'm done, I will take
these shaped-and-crafted,
thoughtful words,
and print them blackly
on white A4. I'll fold the page -
five simple folds to form
a paper plane, and send it
spinning from the window
to soar or plummet.

I hope when you find this, stranger,
smoothing it out to read
my message, that it will make you smile.

Perhaps you'll look up
into the inscrutable eyes of the
blind office buildings, seeking
a flash of sight
and understanding.

But even if you…

Dennis Lehane (person)

2009-12-03T19:23:16Z

Character is action: the oldest law of writing.
It goes back to Aristotle. Plot is just a vehicle in which you see them act.

- Dennis Lehane, in an interview with Linda Richards,
January Magazine, March, 2001

So she wet the bed (idea)

2000-11-14T04:18:56Z

Her voice is thin, she looks past my shoulder and her chin trembles.

'I shared a room with my sister, 2 years younger than me. I must have been 5, and she wet the bed pretty much every night. She'd cry out, and Mom would tiptoe into the room, tall. She'd...'

Here she stops, swallows, rolls her eyes and makes an impatient gesture with her hand. She swallows again.

'Mom would help her change into fresh pajamas; sit her at the end of my bed, warming my toes. She'd change the sheets and tuck her in and whisper Goodnight and disappear again, tall.

She leans forward and drinks the beer in one swallow, continuing briskly as though to finish the messy business and put her heart back under wraps.

So I wet the bed myself one night. I cried out, and Mom came in. She wasn't gentle and kind, like I thought she'd be. She wasn't rough, either, just abrupt and tired and disappointed that it was me who'd called out. She could have been wondering…

The book (a paper weapon) (thing)

2000-05-23T02:27:42Z

We never really talked.
We never knew how to make ourselves happy, so we were never at home. I saw so many similarities that i thought i owed myself to him. And then there was my urge to buck prophesy, because when he says at the very beginning, "You will tire of me, and not love me any more," what can i say but No; never? Is that the root? my hatred of predestination?

I was so sure. I know, still, his head is teeming with colorful life. When we were apart we wrote letters, and this constitutes the mass of words we have exchanged, though now we have lived together for over two throttled years. Eventually i start to learn that this is something that i can't fix with kind words and duct tape, patience understanding food wood glue and time. He is locked away from me, and things are sometimes better but mostly worse.

He has the colors of a Carravaggio boy, and we are the same size, except that he is wiry and thin where i am round. His lips are beautiful, full…

Ostension (idea)

2009-12-02T03:34:21Z

Ostension is a folkloristic concept that is a good example of the powerful effect of folklore on societies and on people's lives.

It's usually defined as "the unwitting acting out of shared narratives by a community." But here it's easier to show than to tell*.

In 1808, a chill fell over the tiny British town of Great Paxton, county Huntingdonshire. First, in late 1807, one woman came down with convulsions and was bedridden. A few months later, a girl fell through the ice in the local pond - though she survived, she came down with convulsions as well, and so did a third girl the next month. As was later revealed to the (horrified) parish priest, Father Nicholson, the general consensus in town was that the women were bewitched. So one girl's father did what anyone would have done in this situation - he boiled a bottle of his daughter's urine, with pins in the cork, to find out the culprit.…

sleep (idea)

2009-11-06T22:52:40Z

Our sleep doctor, a pulmonologist, gave us a wonderful update talk on sleep in early 2009.

He said, "First of all, I hate that blue butterfly." For those who do not watch tv or read magazines in the United States, the blue butterfly is in advertisements for a sleep medicine.

"The blue butterfly lies," he said. "Eight hours sleep is NOT normal and NOT average."

The average amount of sleep for an adult is 7.5 hours. Some people need more, some people need less. I need 6 to 6.5 except on the first day of menses, when my body prefers 10-11 hours. Too much information?

"Catching up is a myth." He said that we don't catch up on sleep after the first night. I get people all the time in clinic who say that they haven't slept for a month and "need to catch up." The first night with a sleep medicine, people catch up some but that is it. After that, their body returns…

Beryllium-8 (thing)

2009-03-23T03:00:27Z

Beryllium-8 is an isotope of Beryllium, with four protons and four neutrons. Beryllium-8 has a half life of somewhere around 10 attoseconds,meaning it is ridiculously shortlived, even by the standards of radioactive materials. For this reason, Beryllium-8 could almost be described as too unstable to really exist, and most of what I am going to talk about is why it is conspicuous by its absence.

For most lighter elements, from hydrogen through calcium, having an equal number of protons and neutrons is a sign of at least relative stability, especially for elements with an even number of protons. Since Beryllium-8 fits this description, its extreme instability is somewhat curious. As far as I can understand, and I can't really claim to understand the science behind it, Beryllium-8 is so unstable because it is equal to two Helium-4 nuclei, which are so stable and self-contained that they naturally divide back apart.…

"I love you" hangs in the air like a subtitle (person)

2008-06-15T06:46:30Z

"You're not a good person."

[7] let me slip you out of your skin, sweetheart

She chews her lip until it bleeds. Not for the pain (some say, Ah There is nothing to make you feel alive like a little Pain) Not for the blood (some are, ah Fixated with the thick water the Ancestry-Maker the I Love You) but For The ah she does it out of nervousness or absentmindedness simply her brain cannot(rather,willnot process anymore and so resorts to distracting itself with the pain,theblood

[12] drop cookies salvage art retro virus paper machine

"I love this stuff," she faces away from me, admiring with an extended hand what is even farther past her, my collection of tangled ropes I salvaged from the beach post-storm. Not all untangled, and mostly hanging to dry, or for aesthetic purposes, the ropes have been hung so that I may watch them collect the afternoon as the orange fades out in rectangles…

Editor Log: November 2009 (log)

2009-12-01T03:58:47Z

Well, "they" say a 10-year anniversary is a good time to look back, to see where you've been and try to see where you're going. Tom and I celebrated our 10th year together last year by ... well ... me trying to remember the exact date and not succeeding! We laughed, enjoyed some happy memories of the years, but mostly congratulated ourselves on having made it that far. Many couples and organizations don't, and sometimes if they do, they find they've become something quite different than what they were.

I think E2 can do all those congratulatory things, and bask in the glow of still being what it set out to be: a place for writers to write. Has it changed? Of course – there's a thriving community now, and the noder population has settled down into a fairly committed group of talented writers that still welcomes new users. E2 still provides that place for writers and would-be writers, a place to learn to write and write well.

There…

I admit confusion. Sometimes it causes my head to ache. Let's not even get into the heart. (poetry)

2002-01-15T16:40:01Z

The confusion makes my heart wistful.

I do appreciate the instant that clouded my eyes - fucking words that I didn't expect to come alive. I wanted them to go away- so I went away instead. Maybe all of this gives me the right to give advice on the right thing to say- whatever that might be - or it's muddled my vision. I can't see the future so I should say nothing. But I sat there and avoided you for so goddamn long. I fled, I tried to not look at you, I failed.

-It's the

…

polytheist, monotheist, atheist, human (idea)

2001-01-30T07:44:23Z

Long, long ago a human being looked at the Earth with all its diversity of life and natural forces and thought, "Since I cannot control this, and know not how it works, there must be greater spirits at work. Yes, many spirits, one for each wonder."

Then, long ago, a human being looked at the Earth with all its diversity of life and natural wonders and thought, "How amazing the world is. There is truly a spirit at work. But the ancient infidels had it all wrong--this I see before me is a single great plan, wrought by one true spirit. And since I am the only creature who marvels at it, the spirit must be like myself, only far greater, for I cannot control it nor fathom how it works."

Then not as long ago a human being looked at the Earth... and examined it closer... and ground lenses and looked still closer... and discovered atoms and chemistry and electricity and laws of motion and laws of action and reaction that made sense of the things he saw, and he thought "I…

Hey Queens, you need a King (essay)

2009-12-03T15:37:24Z

After I sat there while I was working and listened to the state of New York's senate vote on their gay marriage bill, heard all the senators stand up and give speeches as to why they were voting "YES" but then, ultimately, the bill wasn't passed, I about blew a gasket. I've had about enough. Yet again, this country, which is supposed to be all about freedom and civil rights, has failed to end one of the final legal bigotries that we just can't quite seem to shake off. After Proposition 8 and Proposition 1 (especially 8) and now this, I have to say something. Anything. I can't hold this inside of me. This insanity is starting to eat at me like flesh-consuming bacteria.

This is going to be ranty I'm afraid. Maybe I should submit it to the BitchQuest. The point is, I'm not going to do any research so some of what I'm about to say may not be accurate, maybe even flat-out wrong, but I don't care.

First of all, a lot of people might wonder why am I…

Orbits (personal)

2009-12-03T20:01:38Z

I wish to drink a beer with Anthony Swofford and then engage in a lengthy session of bullshit that is both meandering and meaningless. I wish to knock his socks off with my incisive mental clarity and scalpel-sharp wit. I wish for him to know that I am a hopelessly tragic motherfucker just like him, willing to attack substantial pieces of living room furniture with a chainsaw because that sort of tomfoolery just makes Grade-A sense sometimes.

Not only that, but it's goddamn hilarious.

Moving toward nothing comes easy when you've managed to divorce yourself from anything that seems even remotely consequential. I'm not talking about the end of a marriage, mind you. The sort of waking and walking death that Hagakure says all good samurai should be…

Orbits (personal)

2009-12-03T20:01:38Z

Not only that, but it's goddamn hilarious.

Everything2 Decaversary Interviews: robwicks (person)

2009-12-03T16:11:32Z

Another Decaversary interview? Yes, robwicks was invited to participate, and he's gotten his interview sent in. And it's looking like the Decaversary interviews are going to continue and expand -- more than likely, anyone with ten years on the site is going to be offered a chance to do an interview.

1. What is your name?

Robert Wicks

2. What is your quest?

Mostly to rant. Occasionally to actually say something useful.

3. What is your favorite color?

Blue

4. How did you discover Everything, and how did you become a noder?

I was on slashdot and heard about the site when it was hosted at blockstackers. It intrigued me to just be able to collect all this knowledge and opinions, so I was eager to jump in.

5. What do you see as the most significant changes that have happened to Everything over the past decade?

It has become much more orderly, a good example of what the Austrian economists…

Franks Casket (thing)

2009-11-12T05:43:02Z

The Franks Casket is an odd and interesting relic from a forgotten time with a rather misleading name. It was neither crafted by the Franks nor is it a casket (in the most commonly understood meaning of the word, anyway) What it seems to be, more than anything, is a chest with a series of puzzling engravings that appear to bear no relation to one another on each side. It can be fairly safely dated to the middle of the seventh century and is covered with sometimes cryptic messages written in a runic form of the Anglo-Saxon language. As near as can be determined, it is carved out of whale bones (or perhaps just one bone?). It's rather small, measuring at nine inches long, about eight inches wide, and five and half inches tall. The images depicted, while not apparently related, are believed to tell a story of some sort about the man for whom the chest was made.

They seem to go in a specific order: front side, left side, rear side, right…

University of South Carolina (fiction)

2009-12-03T04:52:53Z

Carolina and I are talking again. It was always just a question of timing, the scintillae of permanence in her voice, like all things Southern, an affectation of manners. This time I have with even voice and sound mind laid marriage on the table. I have planned an elaborate question-popping once I've heard her answer. If it is no it will be easy enough to convert it back into its original form (a parade against wearing fur, beloved but ineffective.)

The things we are talking about are Important Things, things I had never considered particularly important before. Things like my bowed legs.

A genetic deficit to our children, Carolina chides. (Theoretical children ... surely.)

They've done me alright, I note.

Carolina laughs and her legs alpine and smooth stir ever so slightly as she inhales.

Besides, I note, cumulatively, our genetic account is in the black.

There, another Important Thing: our joint bank account. (Not so much theoretical as…

My pillow still smells of you (idea)

2004-04-09T03:44:20Z

You're the waiter at Steak 'n Shake, and you're personable.

Personable and attractive.

And you hit on me, so I hit back. "Hey, two things," I say. "First, you're hot. Can I have some ketchup?"

You love green.

It's the color of intellectuals and thinkers, you say.

You hate it when people assume that you're an asshole because you skate.

You could not be more fascinating to me,

even though you occasionally use words like "crib" and "tight" in casual conversation.

It pisses you off when people call you stupid,

and you'll tell them so.

You have ten-minute discussions about the etymology behind words

like "quintessential" and "coterminous."

You hate it when I call you on your bullshit

because no one's ever done that to you before.

Your…