Pitch Black

Okay, not really—but with it being overcast and gloomy outside and the lights periodically going out in here, the lumens are a bit scarce. You see, between the Great Purge of '06 and the impending holidays, the cubicle farm in which I sit and craft my tight, elegant code is a ghost town. Even the tumbleweeds seem to have packed up and moved on to greener pastures.

Therein lies the crux of the apostrophe, because the fluorescent light bars are on an electrical circuit controlled by a timer and a motion detector. If nothing within its cold, uncaring gaze moves for 10 minutes or so, "Boom, Boom! Out Go The Lights!" This pleases my taskmasters, because it not only means that I'm head-down, being productive instead of getting up for a cup of coffee or a trip to the men's, but it also saves electricity.

So far today, the lights have gone out half a dozen times or so, and it's making two of the three remaining cubicle farmers a bit goofy around the edges (the third is a dour chap who, frankly, doesn't see the humor in much of anything).

The last time it happened, I heard a snort and a chuckle, then "Lights out... uh-huh... blast, blast, blast."

Peter Wolf, "Lights Out". Nicely played.

I jumped up out of my chair and gesticulated to catch the attention of the motion detector and turn on the lights.

"Tha-row ya hands in tha air, and wave 'em like you just don't care!"

And there was light—but also dead silence. I guess adding that last "WHOOP! WHOOP!" was just a bit too much.

Great Scott! That's trivia!

Not long ago, one of you wrote about the TV ad for a major credit card's check card. Two things before I get on with it:

1. I apologize for not being able to remember which of you it was. Believe me, I searched.
2. Does it strike anyone else as ironic? A credit card company plugging a card that sucks funds directly from one's checking account. Pretty much the anti-credit, as I see it.

Anyway, after reading about this bit of anti-cash propaganda (as one of you so aptly observerd), I started noticing the ad when it played—and not so much for its intended meaning as because of its soundtrack.

Have you ever watched a [suppressing gag reflex] Warner Brothers cartoon involving the operation of an assembly line and wondered what that peppy, industriously familiar tune was? Have you ever listened to Rush's "La Villa Strangiato" and wondered why that one passage reminded you of Looney Toons?

I have, so this morning I gave my trivial-minded, obsessive evil twin his head and came up with the answer. The tune? "Powerhouse". The composer? Raymond Scott. Ah... there's the real story. It turns out that the composer was a one of those little-known artists who thought out of the box and mostly labored in obscurity because of it.

I never was much good at reading articles in the encyclopedia and restating their content in my own words. If you're interested in learning about Scott, I encourage you to check out the Wikipedia article about him.

Now playing: Cake, Fashion Nugget