Monthly Archives: November 2004

Julia Roberts is a horrible mother

Julia Roberts is a horrible mother. She (and her husband) named their newborn son Phinnaeus, and their newborn daughter Hazel. It was their first decision as parents, and they decided to be cruel.

1) My suspicion is, with their son, they are very bad spellers, and were making reference to the recent remake of Verne’s classic Around the World in Eighty Days. Unfortunately, the protagonist in that book/film is Phineas Fogg.

However, it is possible they spelled the name correctly, and they are interested in The general methods of brain/behaivor analyses and are making reference to a famous case of accidental brain injury.

Or a little more likely they are fans of the Christian Rock group Juggernautz which have a song subtitled ‘j-nautz vs Phinnaeus’ on an album.

It could also be a ‘family name’ but when you put the name into google, and only get a grand total of 14 references, most of them to one of the two above scenarios, it’s doubtful.

2) Unless a family name, Hazel is likely either the maid from the 1960s sitcom, or a reference to the plant the Witch Hazel. Hoperfully the former. Regardless, the name suggests to me someone who is over 60. But maybe the name is staging a comeback.

Both kids will be teased about their names. Phinnaeus more so. Hopefully their decisions as parents improve — but this was an important one, and in my opinion, they failed.

Of course, neither child has been gifted with “moon unit” or “dweezil”. There are definitely examples of entertainment figures who were crueler.

Listening to: Lumpy Gravy

John Drew Barrymore, 72

Due to the history of this blog we would be negilgent if we were not to mention the death of John Drew Barrymore, 72. Father of Drew.

His last credited role in a movie, according to IMDB, was the 1974 Sci Fi film, Clones.

Of course, it is my belief his best work was released on Feb 22 of the following year. “Co-Produced” with his wife, Jaid. I was six at the time.

Statistical Analysis

The below statistical graphs only refer to the section of my website titled: “Victor Hugo Central”. They don’t include my blog.

Here’s the “percent-share” by time zone of all the visitors to the site:

I find this interesting in that the Eastern time zone has a significantly larger share than other time zones in the US. I am attributing it to a possibly larger concentration of colleges and universities, since they are my primary audience. However, I’m not sure if there really is a larger concentation. There are universities and colleges in every state.

It’s nice to see that there is a significant international audience as well.


This is perhaps the most surprising graph. Well…maybe not. The 4 days with the least amount of traffic this month: November 6, 13, 20, and 27. All Saturdays. Is it really surprising that college students aren’t using Saturday for research? Mondays and Tuesdays are the most active. Party all weekend, and when Monday and Tuesday arrive, and you realize you’re behind on that paper that’s due soon, you go to the internet and start your research.

Or maybe today’s students are different than they were in my day…perhaps the research papers are assigned on Monday or Tuesday…and today’s conscientous students immediately begin their research that night. Yeah, right.

Going home for Christmas

Here’s another Edgar Guest poem. Some people might find it strange this is one of my favorites. But it does bring tears to my eyes reading it. If one’s to post this, it needs to be posted early enough to get the intended results.

(One could replace the word ‘Christmas’ though with ‘Pesach’ and it would scan perfectly. The fifth line of the second stanza might need a little additional work. And the meaning would hold true.)

On Going Home for Christmas – by Edgar Guest

He little knew the sorrow that was in his vacant chair;
He never guessed they’d miss him, or he’d surely have been there;
He couldn’t see his mother or the lump that filled her throat,
Or the tears that started falling as she read his hasty note;
And he couldn’t see his father, sitting sorrowful and dumb,
Or he never would have written that he thought he couldn’t come.

He little knew the gladness that his presence would have made,
And the joy it would have given, or he never would have stayed.
He didn’t know how hungry had the little mother grown
Once again to see her baby and to claim him for her own.
He didn’t guess the meaning of his visit Christmas Day
Or he never would have written that he couldn’t get away.

He couldn’t see the fading of the cheeks that once were pink,
And the silver in the tresses; and he didn’t stop to think
How the years are passing swiftly, and next Christmas it might be
There would be no home to visit and no mother dear to see.
He didn’t think about it — I’ll not say he didn’t care.
He was heedless and forgetful or he’d surely have been there.

Are you going home for Christmas? Have you written you’ll be there?
Going home to kiss the mother and to show her that you care?
Going home to greet the father in a way to make him glad?
If you’re not I hope there’ll never come a time you’ll wish you had.
Just sit down and write a letter — it will make their heart strings hum
With a tune of perfect gladness — if you’ll tell them that you’ll come.

Happy Turkey

Thanksgiving – by Edgar Guest (my choice for King of Sentimental Poetry)

GETTIN’ together to smile an’ rejoice,
An’ eatin’ an’ laughin’ with folks of your choice;
An’ kissin’ the girls an’ declarin’ that they
Are growin more beautiful day after day;
Chattin’ an’ braggin’ a bit with the men,
Buildin’ the old family circle again;
Livin’ the wholesome an’ old-fashioned cheer,
Just for awhile at the end of the year.

Greetings fly fast as we crowd through the door
And under the old roof we gather once more
Just as we did when the youngsters were small;
Mother’s a little bit grayer, that’s all.
Father’s a little bit older, but still
Ready to romp an’ to laugh with a will.
Here we are back at the table again
Tellin’ our stories as women an men.

Bowed are our heads for a moment in prayer;
Oh, but we’re grateful an’ glad to be there.
Home from the east land an’ home from the west,
Home with the folks that are dearest an’ best.
Out of the sham of the cities afar
We’ve come for a time to be just what we are.
Here we can talk of ourselves an’ be frank,
Forgettin’ position an’ station an’ rank.

Give me the end of the year an’ its fun
When most of the plannin’ an’ toilin’ is done;
Bring all the wanderers home to the nest,
Let me sit down with the ones I love best,
Hear the old voices still ringin’ with song,
See the old faces unblemished by wrong,
See the old table with all of its chairs
An I’ll put soul in my Thanksgivin’ prayers.

From T-Shirt Hell

TShirtHell has some nice* tshirts for the holidays. I’ve done a little censoring below, but I think everyone should be able to get the gist.

If that shirt isn’t nice enough for you, TShirt Hell definitely aims to please:

Of course, they have stuff inappropriate for all ages, genders, faiths, orientations…so if you like that sort of stuff…

*The word nice has an ironic etymological history. In Middle English, it meant ‘foolish’. It comes from the Latin word, ‘nescius,’ which means ‘ignorant’. It is still used today in this manner, but usually with a sarcastic tone of voice.