Ticketmaster/Live Nation Merger Approved: What’s in It for You? [Link]

“Nothing.”

Pocket Sitar Is a Virtual Sitar for the iPhone [Link]

“Finally!”

Do We Want Brain Scanners to Read Our Minds? [Link]

“      .”

In my daily reading of Taco Bell’s website, I came upon this tribute to their fallen founder:

Please note that Mr. Bell¹, founder of Taco Bell, isn’t being honored by any sissy “Mild” or even “Hot” sauce. No, he commands the respect of the hottest hot sauce, Fire². Hot sauce packets started sporting sassy slogans years back, so this seems a fittingly undignified tribute for the founder of an undignified restaurant.

What really puts it over the top for me, however, is the music player in the upper right. From least to most inappropriate, the music choices are:

The Taco Bell Orchestra Mix
It’s not really on target, but an orchestra is as close to ceremony and honor as you’re going to find here.

The Taco Bell Club Mix
While not exactly downbeat, the Club Mix is at least soft, even soothing.

The Taco Bell Hip Hop Mix
The Hip Hop Mix actually is downbeat, and one can easily imagine a memorial rap being performed over it. I rank it as more inappropriate than the Club Mix because, well, Glen Bell was not a gangsta. And yes, that image is real³.

The Taco Bell Lounge Mix
It’s suitably mellow, yes, but it leaves me feeling I should be sipping a Mai Tai in a grotto somewhere. That has made me sad, but only because I realized I don’t hang out in enough grottos.

The Taco Bell Salsa Mix
This is far too upbeat, though it is the closest to real salsa that Taco Bell ever gets.

The Taco Bell Brand Mix
We have a winner! The background music from the company’s ads is easily the least appropriate music to mourn by.

If you’re actually feeling in a solemn mood, you can visit tacobell.com and mouse over the logo in the upper left. The bell will chime, an angel will get its gastrointestinal problems, and Glen Bell will be honored.

1. Many were shocked to learn that anyone would willingly associate his name with it, but indeed, Taco Bell was named after its founder.   ↩

2. On a completely unrelated side-note, I’m finding it difficult to believe that there was no American Gladiator named “Fire”. Nitro, Blaze, even Zap, but no Fire?   ↩

3. That’s the cover from his book, Taco Titan: The Glen Bell Story   ↩

American cars have many of problems, from fuel economy to looks, and more. Compared to Toyota, however, they’re at least avoiding horribly negative public relations. How can Detroit best take advantage of this? The answer is new slogans and talking points:

• They may be ugly, but our cars aren’t going to run you into a brick wall unless you tell them to.

• Our cars don’t accelerate uncontrollably, but even if they did, their mileage is so poor, you wouldn’t go far!

• We’ll tow your deathtrap away and give you a ride to our dealership.

• Our steel beats their plastic, even if that plastic is coming at you at runaway speed.

• Sure, your Prius probably won’t kill you. But do you really want to bet your life on it?

• Ok, but what about your kid’s life? You monster.

• ♫ No government official has told you to stop driving a Ford, lately! ♫

After reading Tuesday’s Human Bed Warmers link, faithful reader and friend o’ the blog Sash was reminded of a story from Roald Dahl’s early-years memoir, Boy: Tales of Childhood. I’ve reproduced an excerpt below:

It meant that the Boazer¹ wished to use the lavatory but that he wanted the seat warmed for him before he sat down.

The six House lavatories, none with doors, were situated in an unheated outhouse and on a cold day in winter you could get frostbite out there if you stayed too long. This particular day was icy-cold, and I went out through the snow into the outhouse and entered number one lavatory, which I knew was reserved for Boazers only. I wiped the frost off the seat with my handkerchief, then I lowered my trousers and sat down. I was there a full fifteen minutes in the freezing cold before Wilberforce arrived on the scene.

“Have you got the ice off it?” he asked.

“Yes, Wilberforce.”

“Is it WARM?”

“It’s as warm as I can get it, Wilberforce,” I said.

“We shall soon find out,” he said. “You can get off now.”

I got off the lavatory seat and pulled up my trousers. Wilberforce lowered his own trousers and sat down. “Very good,” he said. “Very good indeed.” He was like a wine taster sampling an old claret. “I shall put you on my list,” he added.

I stood there doing up my fly-buttons and not knowing what on earth he meant.

“Some Fags³ have cold bottoms,” he said, “and some have hot ones. I only use hot-bottomed Fags to heat my bog-seat. I won’t forget you.”

Sash commented “It seems like this is a sick tendency in British culture. What is with them?”. I really don’t have an answer.

1. “Boazer” was term used for a prefect², at Dahl’s school.   ↩

2. You didn’t go to private school either? A prefect is a student whose seniority and/or accomplishment grants him authority over other students.   ↩

3. A “Fag” was a student assigned to a Boazer, tasked with menial duties.   ↩

Yesterday, CNN had an important poll question on their front page:

I was simultaneously amused and terrified by this poll. I knew my vote. Hell, I knew the right vote, and it sure as hell wasn’t “Steve Jobs”. But how would America at large do?

Yes! America ekes out a win!