I wish I liked Bad Romance less than I do...

I really wish there was a way to exclude a city from your searches. I'm speaking to you New York. I love the city, don't get me wrong, but in terms of relative difficulty of getting in and out "New York, New York, United States" might as well read "Sea of Tranquility, Light Side, Moon" for all that I could make that trip on a regular basis, and Brooklyn might as well be on the slopes of Olympus Mons. It be nice if the search algorithm would take estimated travel time, rather than linear distance, into account.

The title of the post is from Cryptonomicon, one of the best books ever. The phrase was coined by a man traveling through the jungle of Luzon, to point out that simple linear measurement cannot accurately describe travel through rain forest. A Lewis and Clark mile is a measure of difficulties overcome, hardships endured, dangers avoided, and willpower expended, equivalent to one mile of travel as experienced by the Lewis and Clark expedition. For me, a trip to Philly is about 1/10 of a Lewis and Clark mile, while a trip to NYC is maybe 1/4, if only because of crossing the fucking Hudson.

Long way to walk to make a really obvious point.

I just decided to try searching the world for my arch enemy. Essentially I'm trying to find the person with the highest Enemy rating whose actually answered enough questions for the rating to be meaningful. It's turned out to be kind of hard, there's really no way to tell if if someone's answered more than a few questions unless you check their profile.

For the purposes of finding my Moriarty (or Holmes, if s/he turns out to be a hard-core Christian, as will likely be the case) I'm ruling out anyone who doesn't have at least three stars on the "how well do we know them" meter.

Has anyone else found a nemesis through OkC, either deliberately or organically?

edit: God damnit, by the time I get to people who've answered at least 100 questions the enemy percentages drop to the mid sixties! I know I'm not that likable.

so here i am at the gym using the elliptical trainer at 6:15 am like a good boy. i have my ipod on because otherwise i get bored and restless within five minutes. (how is it fucking possible that i can be both groggy and bored?) some times, when i can let my mind relax and be in the moment i find myself singing along in a sort of chanty undertone to the song on the ipod. this would not be a problem if my exercise playlist wasn't heavy on punk and metal. eventually something pulls me back to reality and i realize i'm singing. that isn't necessarily a problem, though singing along to one's ipod is, i believe, a social faux pas. the problem is that i have been singing "Last Caress" by the Misfits.

if you're not familiar with that song go ahead and google it, i'll wait.

okay, so i realize what i've been, well, for lack of a better word chanting for the past couple minutes and look around to see if anyone's noticed. given the fucking horrified look on the face of the woman who's on the trainer next to me i'd say that yes, people noticed. it probably wouldn't have been as bad if i had been outright singing rather than the creepy, under the breath chant i'm prone to take up when i'm working out.

that was embarrassing enough, but two days later i nearly lost an arm thanks to a song.

this time i was lifting weights, specifically sitting on a bench between sets. i lacked my ipod, so i'm sitting there trying to pretend that i don't know Closer to Fine by the Indigo Girls (DON'T YOU JUDGE ME!) in fact, i was so concerned with not singing along that, when the gentleman on the bench to my left, a real behemoth, dropped one of the eighty pound dumbells he had been using for overhead presses i instinctively went to catch it.

oops.

now, i'm not a little guy, but eighty pounds is not something that i can just casually lift, and certainly not catch. sadly i was so concerned with not looking like a sissy that, well, this fact never entered my mind. naturally, despite my complete lack of hand-eye coordination in normal moments i was able to grab a hold of the falling weight. this is where the "serious injury" part comes in. fortunately i was unable to perceptibly check the weight's decent, and rather than ripping my arm off it just yanked me off the bench so that it, and i, bounced off the floor the the amusement of the leviathan and the other folks in the weight room.

as if all that weren't enough i am fucking obsessed with that Paper Planes song from Slumdog Millionaire. i cannot play it enough times to get it out of my head.

I have to say, I'm elated. It's not like Obama's election has fixed every problem in our country over night, but for the first time in about four years I'm optimistic about our country's future.

Is intoxication ever an acceptable excuse for a stupid act?

• Yes.
• No.

More of an explanation really, maybe a mitigating factor. Excuse, not really.

What is your position on hunting?

• I approve of hunting for food and sport.
• I approve of hunting for food only.
• I do not approve of hunting at all.

I've said it before, I'll say it again: white tailed deer only.

On average, are women more or less capable of clearly articulating their feelings and motivations than men?

• more
• less
• same
• unsure / don't know

God damn it, now I need to go out and get a degree in... probably psychology... and I'll need some statistics too, maybe a grant...

Seriously, this isn't an opinion. You could, if not prove one answer or the other, at least provide strong evidence supporting one conclusion or the other.

Should it be considered a crime (i.e., murder) when a home owner kills an intruder?

• Yes. Always.
• It depends upon the circumstances.
• No. We should have the right to kill intruders.

How could it "always" be murder, I mean really. If the question went into some more detail, you know, something about "an unidentified intruder and makes no effort to warn or otherwise stop them without violence" that'd be a question. As it is the intruder could be wearing a blood-soaked coverall, holding a gore-encrusted meat cleaver and shouting his intention to kill everyone in the house and sew their skins into a delightful afghan. Alternately the intruder could have walked in an open door, be unarmed and shouting "hello? Is anyone home? There's been a terrible car accident and I happen to be the last person on the planet without a cell phone, can I use yours?" Of course it depends on the fucking circumstances.

Am I alone in noticing this? Are there really that many hopeful actors in the city?