Fatty Gristles of Time-Suck

My work-in-progress novel is not getting the best of what my mind has to offer, so I wanted to gift my thought-gristles here. You're welcome. After throwing myself at Google's mercy to help me find a fresh metaphor for hot--I know! Desperate times--I surrendered.

Eau-de-gristle
This article fascinated me, not because the article's title contained "time travel", nor because it talked about a certain baby lotion and its role in the sexual climate of the 1990s (ack!), but because it highlighted a Brooklyn perfumer who celebrates scents like wet mitten and tortilla chip. As long as it's not wet tortilla chip. I'm already well-acquainted with that scent at the Y. Also, any writer who wields the phrase "sugary boob job" to describe the Georgio Beverly Hills fragrance is my kind of peep.

The gristle-with-Mickey-ears
Disney is jumping on the time travel bandwagon. Really. Even more of a dip in the temporal pond than the Prince of Persia (SO a topic for another blog). The Runner is set in post-apocalyptic 2027 where a tiny group of survivors in the Rocky Mountains find a way to send someone back in time. But lo, the one who draws the short straw to go back has alterior motives. Instead of stopping the apocalyptic events, he returns to save his one true love. Marc Forester of Quantum of Solace is set to direct.

The lugubrious gristle
In the last, say, eighteen hours, I've heard the word lugubrious no less than THREE times. I don't think I've heard lugubrious three times in my entire life. The best was in a late-night Twilight Zone eppy where a player piano reveals people's thoughts they'd never say aloud. Is this the universe humming along in simpatico waves? Encouraging me to use the word in my novel? A subtle hint that I need to perk up?

Tick-tock gristle
From time to time (ha!) I post creative clocks. Remember the Kuku Klock and the Death Clock? What about the O-Clock? Oh and the creepy grasshopper clock? And this super-terrific roundup of web clocks? If I haven't made your eyes glaze over yet, check out these creative ways humans try to master time's passage.

Lest you think this post left out the creep factor worthy of Thriller Island, I give you this clock...


Oh, and if you can think of a fresh metaphor for hot that doesn't involve Ricky Martin's white pants, please send it my way.

Is That a Planet in Your Pocket?

How long has it been since I sent you on a linkerific treasure hunt? Too long, really. My bookmarks floweth over with dazzling gems of all things writerly and time-centric.

Before I get into the first one, let me first say how delicious it was to browse Half Priced Books over the weekend and discover a "Sundial Day Planner." What does such a planner look like? I'm glad you asked. It was hard for me to see past the awesomeness of organizing my day around a circle the size of a dime, but after my left brain considered if such a thing were useful I decided I didn't need a quarter of the page to pencil in sleep whilst the details in my 3 to 6 pm life karate chop each other for day planner real estate. Great if you're a non-linear thinker, just like this next link:

Beware the Visual Thesaurus. Pretty soon you'll be looking up profanity to see how it shakes out in visual representation, right? Seriously, though, it's a great idea generator. I'm sure you can imagine what entering "time" into the search box did for me. Try the random word option under the search box if you don't want them to bother you for a downloadable trial.

Behold: Eris. Students at the School of Applied Arts in Geneva have created a timepiece based upon the newest dwarf planet in our solar system. What makes this a treasure, though, is the catalog writer's delirium that anyone will a.) wear this in a rubber lanyard around his/her neck or b.) shoved into the pocket of a man's dockers. Let's just own that this timepiece is a $450 paperweight that will roll off your desk at the slightest orbital shift.

And finally, thanks to the Mannahatta Project, I can travel back in time to 1609 New York and get in touch with my inner Pocahontas. I could wax philosophical about the importance of remembering a forgotten ecosystem that didn't involve an F.A.O. Schwartz and a couple hundred java huts, but that wouldn't be much fun, would it? Happy Monday, explorers!

So That's What Ate Those Last Ten Minutes

Have I got the creepy perfection in clockwork for you today, just in time for Halloween. But first, a hoo-ha to my revamped website and highly anticipated group blog debuting soon. It's really a no-brainer as to which is created by a professional, but each serves its purpose. I hope you'll pop over and let me know what you think...wait. Only if you like them. Otherwise you can feed your opinion to the grasshopper.

Thanks to frequent visitor Melanie for this item of the weird. Apparently, I've been obsessing about time long enough that people instantly think of me with all things relating to time and clocks. That's branding, baby!

This is the "Corpus Clock." Its inventor conceived it to pay homage to an Englishman named John Harrison, who in 1725 invented the grasshopper escapement, a mechanical device in all clocks that helps regulate movement.

The clock features no hands and is designed to speed up and slow down at erratic intervals. The grasshopper's teeth and barbed tail are integrated into the clock's function and stand as a metaphor for "eating time." Thirty seconds into each minute the beast's jaws open, only to snap shut at :59 seconds. When the hour tolls, a chain clanks into a coffin, which then slams shut.

The corpus clock's inventor, John Taylor, dipped into his own pocket (at a cost of 1 million pounds-$1.8 million) and states, "My object was simply to turn a clock inside out so that the grasshopper became a reality."

It's erratic motion speaks to time's relativity. Taylor recalls Albert Einstein's observation: "When a man sits with a pretty girl for an hour, it seems like a minute. But let him sit on a hot stove for a minute and it's longer than any hour. That's relativity." more on the Corpus Clock

Obviously, the man standing in this photo is not Stephen Hawking, the famous cosmologist who unveiled the clock at the Corpus Christi College in Cambridge, England recently, but he does seem sucked in by it.

Today's fun: write the caption for what he must be thinking.
Have a super weekend, everyone!

Quarter 'til Mesmerizing

Would it be too much to confess that I stop and stare at the row of clocks lining the back of the mall's Samsonite store when I shop? I might need to know it's 3 am in Prague while I'm scarfing a cheesesteak on wheat. Might.

I've tackled clocks here before. Since the post on crazy gift clocks and the ones on official government time and John's Clock Shop, I've acquired enough for a Friday show-and-tell:


Tokyo artist Yoshitomo Nara's clock contains 84 unique drawings to cover all 24 hours and 60 minutes needed to cycle through a day.



For those who can't get enough bar codes at the Piggly Wiggly, the bar code clock.

For those who picture time as linear, the line clock.

My favorite internet clock is called Timebeat. Each time the clock is loaded the image shifts. The metaphysical sound effects, buried heartbeat and quasi-Twilight Zone-ish graphics speak to my inner sense of woo-woo.

How does your mind picture the progression of time?

The Gift of Time

For the time-obsessed person on your holiday list:


Wall Projection Clock

Celebrate the intangible nature of time with this projection clock, which creates a large clock image on any wall surface. Discovery Channel Store ($129.95)

A little philosophy thrown in with a sales pitch, anyone?

Distorted Wall Clock

Made in the surrealistic tradition of Salvador Dali's famous Persistence of Memory. Fluid lines of the shiny, brushed aluminum, wooden frames contour and bend around the gold-tone inner trim. Touch of Class ($199.00)

This one is screaming at me to say something profound, but I digress...

Sonic Boom Clock

Guaranteed to wake up even the heaviest sleepers. When the alarm goes off, the user can select to wake up to any combination of loud pulsating audio alarm, flashing lights, or shaking bed (vibrator sold separately). Amazon.com ($37.00)

Not sure about you, but waking up to an apocolyptic onslaught of sensory stimuli wouldn't put me in my happy place to start the day. And yes, I am holding my tongue.

ChronoArt Clock

Chimes, color, light, and time combine into an ever-changing functional work of art. This wall clock uses a series of multi-colored lights and a system similar to the binary clock to display the time of day. Entertaining and unique, ChronoArt clock features a face that changes every single minute of the hour, and a chime which announces every hour.

Edmund's Scientifics ($195.00)

If anyone knows the actual time on this clock, leave it in the comments. I'll consider a clock vibrator for you for Christmas.