The Ira Graves episode of TNG is on right now, and I just watched the scene where Data does the endless eulogy at the funeral, and something occurred to me. The beaming-the-body-into-space thing is a takeoff on naval tradition, yes? Which isn't done anymore, I know. Whatever. Now, in Classic Trek bodies were jettisoned into space, not beamed. But if by the 24th century everything is done with the transporter... wouldn't it make more sense to dematerialize the body, instead of sending it, casket and all, out to drift through the "endless depths of space"? Wouldn't that be the ultimate form of cremation? Reducing the body to its component molecules? I think so. Plus it would have saved us from that one episode of Voyager where Lizard!Lindsay Ballard (And while we're on the subject, does anyone actually remember seeing her before she supposedly "died" and traumatized Harry? Poor Harry.) descended upon Harry, a Mary Sue returned from the dead to seek her revenge and the devoted attention of the entire crew, including the random Borg children. Yes, that was very clever, having Mezati take the call at the beginning of the episode. Very cute. Shameless and almost unforgivably hack-like, but cute.
Actually, fall, but they're strikingly similar around here, so you'll forgive me.
Also, apparently near-death experiences make bus drivers quippy.
MP3 Player: *playing pretty soothing Mononoke music*
Bus Driver: "Looks like what they say at UBC is true. SFU students really do have their heads in the clouds."
Me: *blinking awake*
Bus: *thud, thud*
Me: *looks outside*
Window: *is blank white*
We reached the first stop about a minute later.
Bus: *thud, thud, creeeak jerk, sudden stop*
Me: *does not have umbrella*
Concourse, ten metres up: *is bone dry*
Me: *is walking through an ACTUAL CLOUD*
I just love how all those "Come to BC to Work, Learn, and Play!" commercials invariably take place on breezy, sun-drenched mountain peaks, with young and old frolicking amid the trees. La la la, come here, it's pretty and dry!
DON'T LISTEN. *shivers*
I kid. I love rain. Just not so much in love with the instant monsoon-from-nowhere kind, is all. *shifty-eyed glance at window*
I am both impressed and terrified by people who bring their very thin (and therefore very, very expensive) laptops to school and carry them in their backpacks, squished between binder and textbooks. Scary. Scares me. Don't know I'm quite that brave. o.O
I am also somewhat in awe of these giant, megalithic three-wheeled bike... stroller... things. When I was that big we got these ramshackle plastic things and your butt went in what amounted to a broadcloth sling. These things have storage space, and a roof, and I can only wonder whether these children are being trained to shoplift. There's certainly enough space. (Although when *I* was two, I managed just fine with just the cushion under my butt, thanks. None of this carrying around of the house to help innnocently lift merchandise, oh no. I mean, *I* was an independent operator, and everything, but... Kids these days. *headshake*)
I think that there's something about an arriving train that strikes many people stupid. Otherwise they would be able to read the STAND THE FUCK BACK sign that is affixed to EVERY SINGLE DOOR, YOU FUCKWITS.
Oh... and that woman last year (or maybe a couple of years ago) who slipped a tract into my bag? I SAW HER AGAIN. No kidding.
I didn't recognize her at first, of course, but she stood really, really close to me at the bus stop (presumably to avoid all the brown people, rough-looking white men, and most especially the guy in the wheelchair - someone remind me again why it is bad to push the stupid lady in front of the bus?), and just as I was wondering whywhywhy everyone for a six-foot radius chose that instant to take their smoke break, she said: "Didn't you have purple hair the last time I saw you?"
I looked up, and it was her. I totally couldn't believe it. I also couldn't believe she recognized *me*. That right there is a blatant abuse of a photographic memory.
The best part was that she actually asked me what I thought of it. As if I'm going to feel inclined to discuss the literary merits of her creepy ketchup Jesus cartoon considering that she snuck it onto my person the last time. I swear, I was so tempted to say "I'm sorry, but I don't accept unsolicited manuscripts," but I was cold and tired, so all I did was mutter something like "I don't read those things" with what I hope was a condescending tone, and then the bus arrived then and I got on, and someone sat down next to me before she could. Christ on a whole wheat cracker, don't these people have something better to do than try to convert people who have purple hair and therefore must be evil?
I am cold. I will now remedy this with tea.