When will this cold snap end?

It. Is. Fucking. FREEZING. Seriously, this is ridiculous. It's been -90 degrees for the past two goddamn months and I've just about had it. Gone are the days when I could bask in the sun's radience, and wallow lazily in it's balmy -60 goodness. But what gives? It's not bad enough with the penguins barking or howling or baying (or whatever the hell they do that keeps me up all shitting night), or that I have to bathe by rubbing snow all over me (you know what that's like? It's fucking COLD is what it's like), or that the only food we have is penguin meat and "misplaced" lichen samples, or that the only female in our station has a face like a Picasso painting that someone has removed all the paint from and then painted a REALLY ugly woman on the fresh canvas, or that our booze is made by a fat, listless computer dweeb using snow and penguin shit, or that I can't take a piss outside because I can't make it three feet from the station without wanted to stab myself to death using an icicle, or that icicles really aren't as sharp as you'd think and can't exactly puncture the skin on my neck, or that when your co-workers find you trying to stab yourself with an icicle all of a sudden you're 'crazy' and can't be trusted with the lichen samples? Well fuck that noise, 'cause the last time I checked, we weren't living in goddamn Russia! Great, now Dr. Visiliev is pissed over that last comment. I should probably stop saying this stuff aloud as I type, apparently the fucking Russians don't like to be made fun of. Dammit he heard that too! Ok, now he's REALLY pissed, I've gotta go...

Jew-Hating Bird On A Wire

Yes that's the best Mel Gibson movie pun I could come up with. It was either that, Jew-Hating Ransom or The Jew-Hating Man Without A Face. In retrospect, I probably should've gone with that last one, but I can't just go back and change the post, that's not the kind of revisionist tomfoolery this blog is about. Anyway, I'm sure you've all read about Aussie up-and-comer Mel Gibson's rant about Jews after being charged for driving under the influence (of Jew hate, it would seem). Having just watched his latest film The Road Warrior on Videodisc(tm) it's sad to see someone with such a promising Hollywood career piss it all away in order to express his hatred of Jews and all of their warmongering kindred. Who knows where his youthful talent might have taken him? I for one was looking foward to the continuing adventures of Max Rockatansky, but fate, it would seem, has dealt him a different card. More specifically a card of Jew hate.

Who the shit canceled M.A.S.H.?!

I swear to fucking God, sometimes the carrot dangling in front of your face gets yanked away before you can run its sweet, orange stalk around the inside of your lips, exploring the smooth, cold skin delicately with your tongue before sinking your teeth into it's delicious, crunchy pulp. That MAY have come off a little gay, but its not half as gay as the cigar smoking Hollywood bigshots who cancelled our beloved M.A.S.H. Though I haven't actually seen the show, I'm sure my anger is not unfounded. You see, we have no TV channels in the Antarctic, except for Global, which we were able to procure in exchange for a crate of Dr. Lugash 'The Gash' Visiliev's homemade vodka. Someone will have to explain 'Rockstar: Supernova' to me later...

Anyway, having had internet access for only the past 3 days, I'd come upon this sure-to-be-classic only to discover that some asshole had pulled the plug before I could even get a glimpse of the (alleged) hilarious wartime antics of Hotlid Hulahoop, Hawkman Pierce and Colonel Klinker, crossdressingly played by the outrageous Jamie Farr (or so I've read). No TV show in history has been as socially relevant (could someone confirm this please?), heartfelt (again, confirmation needed) or as true to the human spirit (I just made that part up), as M.A.S.H. I'd be interested to see where the cast goes from here. Is that a M.A.S.H. movie I smell in the future? Sam Peckinpah, I'm looking in your direction....

Lunar Lander fucking SUCKS!

Seriously, how many fucking times can you be expected to land a goddamn spaceship before you want tp put a gun in your mouth? I'll tell you: SIXTEEN FUCKING TIMES! Jesus Christ, would it kill them to break up the gameplay a little? Maybe add a level where you can fucking shoot something for Chrissake? Lame ass waste of time. Needless to say I'm writing the developer Creative Computing a very angry letter to be taken out by the next supply ship. I'd deliver it myself if I didn't have some new lichen samples to study. Hopefully the text-based 'Computer Gardener' will prove more enthralling. I'll let you know once I've had a go.

TO: Future of videogames....

...thy name is Lunar Lander. I'm normally not one who resorts to hyperbole, but in this case I'll make an exception: Lunar Lander is the greatest videogame of all time and there's nothing on this earth that could make me tire of it for as long as I live.

The resplendent graphics are far beyond anything ever witnessed by my eyes, or any human being's for that matter. The game involves maneuvering your your ship, or "lander", into a position where it can safely touch down or "land" on the moon's surface (represented by the white bar at the bottom of screen). The best part is that the surface topography is randomly generated after each successful mission, so one could literally play this game for the rest of their lives and never get bored. Here's looking to many more years of mind blowing entertainment from 'Lunar Lander'. Huzzah!

Pimp My Computer System

Over the past day or so, I've been flooded with emails. Most of them question my ability to maintain an erection and suggest help in non-prescription form. Others are curious as to how such an outdated antarctic research facility has access to the the internet. Let me assure you, our facility is not as outdated as one might assume. Though our resident tech-head, Dr. Lugash 'The Gash' Vasiliev (seen at left) has managed to keep our ENIAC system running for the past two decades without fail (with the exception of the odd vacuum tube blowing or a package of punch-cards being misplaced), we decided it was time to embrace the 20th century and upgrade.


Lugash, who is adept at morse code, was able to contact the Russian supply ship Anatoli and entice her captain into a friendly exchange of goods. He would supply us with the latest in Russian computer technology, and in return would receive a conjugal visit with our very own Dr. Heinze and all the penguin meat his crew could carry. He seemed enraged when he met Dr. Heinze, but as one who isn't familiar with the Russian language, who can really say what all that angry screaming and knife waving was about. He left the computer equipment nonetheless (along with the penguin meat and a very disappointed Dr. Heinze) and our faithful ENIAC was retired for use as a spacious outhouse after the 0.01k of data contained within its burning hot vaccuum tubes were backed up onto our remaining 57,560 punch cards.

Within a few hours, Dr. Vasiliev had our new system up and running and needless to say, we were flabbergasted (and somewhat unnerved) by the monumental computing power we now posessed.

Our new Commodre Pet (seen left) is built around the 6502 microprocessor and has been maxed out to a whopping 4k of RAM. It includes a built-in 10" monochrome monitor (!!) , portable 5 1/4" floppy drive (barely the size of a small oven), and the latest model of "dot matrix" printer (?) which is capable of outputting 12 characters per second with a whisper-like 90 dB of noise output (roughly that of a gas lawnmover).

Hopefully this has answered all of your questions related to how we could possibly have an internet connection. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to put our new system to the test with a game of Lunar Lander. It should be finished loading in a few hours (it IS almost 4k, after all).

I hate this place so goddamn much

Why in shit did I sign up for this job? Well 24 years ago, I saw a movie called The Thing and immediately transferred to a remote antarctic research facility, leaving my shitty life as a lab assistant behind. But instead of battling a shape-shifting alien being and hanging with a motley crew of cigar-chomping, hard-drinking roughnecks, I study lichen, bryophytes and fungi all day. All fucking day!

And don't get me started on penguins, those rampant little shits. I'd love to kill every last one of them with my bare hands, but it's -91C outside and my hands could only be exposed for mere seconds before the onset of frostbite. You know how many penguins you could kill in mere seconds? Not nearly enough.

Here's where I live. Some of you may have one of these in your backyards.....to store garden tools. Note the fucking penguins...
















Ah, but the hot scientist babes must keep you warm at night, you say (stop, like, blurting things out, ok?) Movie myth, my friends. Let me introduce you to Dr. Heinze, one of my co-workers and shackmates:



The only way this thing could keep me warm at night, is if I burned her alive and literally used her charred remains to keep me warm at night.




Welcome to 'Ice Station Bravo'.