Black and Blue and White All Over?

 

 

 

Think you are seeing two llamas of differing heights?  Think again.  While we're not saying one llama is blue and one is white...or one is gold and one is black...like that dress...what we are saying is that both llamas are exactly the same size.

"It's an optical illusion" stated Dr. Rafe McPherson of Wills Eye Hospital in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.  "It's like when our cones and rods can't distinguish what colour that godawful looking dress is which is making the rounds on the Internet.  Whatever colour it is, you can rest assured it's still an ugly dress.  The llamas, on the other hand, are quite the opthalmological enigma.  They look different in size because of the perspective of the camera.  They are, pretty much, give or take an inch or two, the exact same size."

Black or White or Gold or What?

(Llamas - exactly the same height.)

"Our eyes are trained, from an early age, to see things the way the brain wants to perceive them," Todd Renquist of Royal Victorian Eye and Ear Hospital in Melbourne, Australia, stated.  "Sometimes they are completely wonky and it takes a good whack on the head or a bit of Photoshopping to make one...well, see the light...perspectively speaking."

It is refreshing to know in a world quick to make something go viral that not all things are easily passed around.  The photo known to a select few as "Bob Inhales His Own Phlegm" has been such a secret on the Internet that a Google search doesn't even turn anything up. 

"'Bob Inhales His Own Phlegm' is one of the best kept secrets of both eye specialists and photography, I'm talking serious photography buffs, for about three decades now," Nathan Roberts of the Rotterdam Eye Hospital in the Netherlands, said.  "It's mesmerizing in its own way.  I have a gelfotograf of it in my office and my colleagues often bring by their newest interns to see it.  It's a marvel to behold.  I can't really say anything other than that about it - you really have to SEE it to believe it.  It defies explanation."

So, while the world ponders if it's black or blue or white or gold, keep in mind that phlegm has been every single colour of the rainbow, and then some.

Day 9: Dylan

Okay, I promised I wouldn't - but I totally forgot about this post until now...and, if I haven't said it by now, here goes:  I LOVE the Olympics!

 

I mean, I love them.  I so incredibly love them. 

 

And, one of the things you see all the time...when waiting for the scores to go up is "body language" -- the difference between one score and the next are so incredibly slim sometimes, and watching the thrill of victory bestowed upon one and the agony of defeat thrown on to another, is sometimes quite difficult to watch. And, what it all boils down to is getting a medal. 

 

And medals made me think of this post I did back on 4 August 2012, which I hope you enjoy.

 

 

 

Challenging the Gold

When I was younger, one of my dreams was to write a book...the other was to win a gold medal at the Olympics. So far, I'm pretty much 0 for 0...which isn't bad considering some people out there who won a gold medal in the Olympics didn't really win gold ones...and some...they probably just keep in the box on their mantle behind that commemorative plate of Charles and Diana. (Hey...it's being held in London...I thought I'd "Brit" it up a bit.)

Each Olympics they basically give someone the incredible honour of designing that year's Olympic medal...and when you think of gold medals, you usually (if you are old like me) have the image of Mark Spitz' gold-laden chest indelibly stamped into your brain.

Some Olympic medals...eh...not all that photogenic.

This got me thinking (when I was talking to a friend) that I remember one of the medals a few years back which basically was this chunk of crystal. Yeah, crystal might be nice in chandeliers and fancy wine glasses...but, me personally, would have been highly let down if I won a gold medal predominantly made of high end glass. "Cheers!" Sigh...it's not only made of glass...but it's ugly. I spent a dozen years of my life training to win something I might break if I drop it?? Great. Thanks Olympic medal picker people...thanks for shattering my dream and making it look like something the luge gouged out.

After talking about that...and finding out how difficult it is to find a pictorial history of Olympic medals while the Olympics are in progress...I managed to find all the medals given out since the onset of the Modern Games...dating back to 1896. Talking about a let down - they gave the winner a silver coin and a laurel branch. The runners-up...only got the branch.

While branches wither and die...unfortunately, these medals live on...

Designed by Lalique -- Albertville's 1992 Winter Olympics medal:

I didn't know that "crop circles" was a Winter Olympic event...I'd have guessed it was a Summer one -- Grenoble 1968:

Sapporo, if I remember correctly, was where those cute little snow monkeys liked sitting in the hot springs. Apparently, they also designed their wacky Winter Olympics medals as well:

You thought monkeys designing medals was a bad idea, right? No, you are wrong...having your two-year-old kid design one on their Magna-Doodle is worse. I present to you, Lillehammer's 1994 Ski Jumping medal...if you look at the jumper as if they are going in the other direction...it looks like a Zombie on skis. While I'm thinking that would have been a really awesome medal design...they had others...for each of the Winter events. This one is, by far, the best:

Hey, cool...I always did wonder what they did with all those old Korean coins...kind of odd they gave them out at the 2006 Turin games in Italy, tho:

You can't really tell - but these Vancouver 2010 medals were all misshapen and did not lie flat...they were also made with recycled electronic waste materials for their base. I guess that's one way to get rid of your country's toxic garbage:

Nothing screams Olympic games like "naked guy on a medal", as after all, the ancient games were played in the nude. London's 1908 and Stockholm's 1912 games both featured identical full metal porn:

Not to be outdone in the porn category, the medal in the 1924 Paris Summer games...well, I'm sorry -- I'm just hoping that they are only shaking hands:

There was a long stretch of time where the medals showed more tasteful depictions of winning...but then the 1972 Munich games came and went with much heartbreak. While they will also be remembered by stellar performances by American swimmer, Mark Spitz, and Soviet gymnast, Olga Korbut, they will, unfortunately, always be marred by human tragedy and not "naked aliens on a medal" only tragedy, like they rightfully should have been:

Thanks to "BBC News - London 2012: Olympic Medals Timeline" for all the Olympic medal-abilia.  Go and check out the link -- it's absolutely fascinating and fun!

 

(I have been wondering if the 2012 London games' medals are the largest in diameter [85 mm], as they certainly take up a lot of chest space...but they are not -- the 2009 Turin games takes the top spot with 107 mm medals.  Also, not to take any glory away from Michael Phelps...but in my mind, Mark Spitz will always be remembered first.)

 

 

Now, go on over to "We Work for Cheese" to see all the other entries for today's prompt, which is "Dylan" -- I think I cleverly worked it in up there if you managed to catch it.  If not, read the third paragraph again.

 

Esmerelda and the Area Known as 51

It was just about dusk as Esmerelda sat behind the counter filing her nails at the only gas station in Goldfield, Nevada.

She had sat behind that counter every day, or near about every day, since her daddy got taken ill with a raging fever that ended up taking his breath away. Momma prayed hard that day and asked Esmerelda, "Sing with your angel voice, child, sing so the angels can hear and come straight to your daddy to 'take him home'."

Esmerelda obliged.

She was just a girl of about seven...but her voice could make grown men weep - and when the town, once a boom town for gold, started to get deserted, grown men wept for other reasons. Esmerelda didn't really understand where "home" was. She just knew when people got bit real bad by snakes or had the consumption, they always went "home" and then no one ever saw them again. They parceled you up real good, too. Put you in a big wooden box to send you there. She figured a special postman with a big wagon and two horses came to take you back "home" and your family would walk as far as they could and then came back again...crying.

But no one came back once they went home. And for a very long time Esmerelda was afraid to ever go home, but as she never lived anywhere else, she figured she was already there. Then, as all things go, time passed and she understood about "home" and then was worried her momma would go there one day. Sometimes she'd find herself doing chores 'round the house and her sweet voice would pour out like liquid sunshine and kiss the ears of everyone within earshot. Then she'd clam up and run outside as far and as fast as she could. She didn't want those angels to find her momma.

But now she was filing her nails and Curtis was in the garage of the gas station shouting obscenities each time he'd smash a finger. Curtis worked at the little grocery store and service station that was smack on the edge of town. Smack on the edge of town to nowhere really. Wasn't anything much before or after the town and certainly wasn't much there. The only thing within miles was Las Vegas and the only time people came through Goldfield anymore was because they heard it once had gold...but that was a considerable time ago, but that never stopped the passers-by who lost everything but gas money out of Vegas. Goldfield was a tank of gas away...and if they got lucky and found the stray nugget, it was a tank of gas back. And the only place to get that gas was at Esmerelda's daddy's store, "Old Bob Perkins' Place" it was called by the locals and that's what it will always be called if Esmerelda and her momma had anything to do with it.

It didn't cost much to run and Curtis got paid only when he fixed something, which wasn't very often, but then again, Curtis was never going to amount to much anyway...but that never stopped him from trying to hit on Esmerelda.

He had it all worked out in his simple head. He'd marry Esmerelda when the time was right and that time would be any day now seeing as she was starting to fill out her dresses too much and started wearing her momma's. Then he and Esmerelda would move in with his momma as she had the biggest house for miles around. Curtis never knew why she did, he only knew they didn't want for anything...but he never much wanted for anything anyway...anything but Esmerelda, that is. And that "wanting" wasn't exactly like wanting a new tire or wanting a new pair of shoes -- it was more like wanting some dinner...only sometimes this hunger seemed a lot deeper. Curtis, again, never really knew why.

But Esmerelda's hunger and desire didn't lie with Curtis...she wanted to go to Hollywood...or at least Vegas. She liked the distinct smell of ozone once when daddy took the family on a trip up there shortly before he died. Once in a while, on a warm still night, Esmerelda swore she could still catch a whiff of it if the breeze was blowing just right and if she turned her head just so.

Esmerelda knew she didn't have much time, either. The desert sun can blanch the bones of a dead thing white in a couple days...and the supple, taut skin of a young girl of 15 turns into something hard and leathery like the cowboys and Mexicans wore in those "shoot 'em up" movies she wanted to star in. Star in them right up there on the silver screen with Gary Cooper or John Wayne. Even though Esmerelda only went to a movie once, she knew that's what she wanted to do...she also knew, aside from "going home", that was her only ticket out of Goldfield.

And the best way to get there was on a tank of gas after someone found a big enough nugget.

So, each day she came to work dressed in her momma's best clothes, her hair styled as closely as she could get it to resemble the latest "starlet of the month" on the magazine cover and smelling of something called "L'amore de Parisienne". It cost a whole fifty cents...the finest her daddy's store carried. And there she would wait, filing her nails, anticipating that one day, and one day soon, a big Hollywood director would need a fill-up on his way scouting around for a new place to shoot a film...discover her in all her momma's Sunday finest...and sweep her away to the place where dreams can be made real...or at least as close to the reality she always dreamt about.

Each day, she'd walk home more disappointed than the last...and the days she spent waiting turned into weeks, then months, and finally years. Curtis had filled out enough to become interesting to her...and as he was the only boy close her age for miles, his dream was beginning to look like it would be her dream as well.

(End of Part 1)

(Originally posted 24 Mar 11)

(What does this have to do with the "We Work for Cheese" prompt "French" today?  The perfume, silly, the perfume...it's French.  Now go on over to the site and read all the other contributors for the "30 Minus 2 Days of Writing" competition/non-competition.)

Challenging the Gold

When I was younger, one of my dreams was to write a book...the other was to win a gold medal at the Olympics. So far, I'm pretty much 0 for 0...which isn't bad considering some people out there who won a gold medal in the Olympics didn't really win gold ones...and some...they probably just keep in the box on their mantle behind that commemorative plate of Charles and Diana. (Hey...it's being held in London...I thought I'd "Brit" it up a bit.)

Each Olympics they basically give someone the incredible honour of designing that year's Olympic medal...and when you think of gold medals, you usually (if you are old like me) have the image of Mark Spitz' gold-laden chest indelibly stamped into your brain.

Some Olympic medals...eh...not all that photogenic.

This got me thinking (when I was talking to a friend) that I remember one of the medals a few years back which basically was this chunk of crystal. Yeah, crystal might be nice in chandeliers and fancy wine glasses...but, me personally, would have been highly let down if I won a gold medal predominantly made of high end glass. "Cheers!" Sigh...it's not only made of glass...but it's ugly. I spent a dozen years of my life training to win something I might break if I drop it?? Great. Thanks Olympic medal picker people...thanks for shattering my dream and making it look like something the luge gouged out.

After talking about that...and finding out how difficult it is to find a pictorial history of Olympic medals while the Olympics are in progress...I managed to find all the medals given out since the onset of the Modern Games...dating back to 1896. Talking about a let down - they gave the winner a silver coin and a laurel branch. The runners-up...only got the branch.

While branches wither and die...unfortunately, these medals live on...

Designed by Lalique -- Albertville's 1992 Winter Olympics medal:

I didn't know that "crop circles" was a Winter Olympic event...I'd have guessed it was a Summer one -- Grenoble 1968:

Sapporo, if I remember correctly, was where those cute little snow monkeys liked sitting in the hot springs. Apparently, they also designed their wacky Winter Olympics medals as well:

You thought monkeys designing medals was a bad idea, right? No, you are wrong...having your two-year-old kid design one on their Magna-Doodle is worse. I present to you, Lillehammer's 1994 Ski Jumping medal...if you look at the jumper as if they are going in the other direction...it looks like a Zombie on skis. While I'm thinking that would have been a really awesome medal design...they had others...for each of the Winter events. This one is, by far, the best:

Hey, cool...I always did wonder what they did with all those old Korean coins...kind of odd they gave them out at the 2006 Turin games in Italy, tho:

You can't really tell - but these Vancouver 2010 medals were all misshapen and did not lie flat...they were also made with recycled electronic waste materials for their base. I guess that's one way to get rid of your country's toxic garbage:

Nothing screams Olympic games like "naked guy on a medal", as after all, the ancient games were played in the nude. London's 1908 and Stockholm's 1912 games both featured identical full metal porn:

Not to be outdone in the porn category, the medal in the 1924 Paris Summer games...well, I'm sorry -- I'm just hoping that they are only shaking hands:

There was a long stretch of time where the medals showed more tasteful depictions of winning...but then the 1972 Munich games came and went with much heartbreak. While they will also be remembered by stellar performances by American swimmer, Mark Spitz, and Soviet gymnast, Olga Korbut, they will, unfortunately, always be marred by human tragedy and not "naked aliens on a medal" only tragedy, like they rightfully should have been:

Thanks to "BBC News - London 2012: Olympic Medals Timeline" for all the Olympic medal-abilia.  Go and check out the link -- it's absolutely fascinating and fun!

 

(I have been wondering if the 2012 London games' medals are the largest in diameter [85 mm], as they certainly take up a lot of chest space...but they are not -- the 2009 Turin games takes the top spot with 107 mm medals.  Also, not to take any glory away from Michael Phelps...but in my mind, Mark Spitz will always be remembered first.)