Answers served with alacrity
Kate Kearney searched: Alright, who irritated the sun?
What? Did you expect an apology or an excuse to follow that?
MadamLibrarian searched: What are three aspects of an alien sighting?
1) Blinky lights. No self-respecting alien uses any lighting other than those on a steady, two-second blink. It’s rude on other planets to keep your eyes open for more than two seconds at a time and, as a part of an old attempt to save battery power before batteries were made smaller, more efficient and, eventually, obsolete, two-second blinking lights were popularized.
It’s rude to keep your eyes open for more than two seconds at a time on Earth, too, but humans are, of course, barbarians. As a matter of coincidence, their barbaric staring is also the main reason that they can sight aliens at all.
2) Solitude. It’s very rare to spot an alien when you’re standing around with your friends and, oddly, aliens never bring a buddy when the take a fly-by on this rock. It’s always just one of us and one of them. They’re still debating if this is a matter of etiquette, or just tradition.
3) A speedy disappearance. Which is really just the aliens doing what their mothers told them, and not inviting themselves down onto alien planets for dinner.
Kate Kearney searched: What are the optimum times to clean?
In my experience? All day on that Saturday after you bruised your toe kicking something that had no right to a Floor Permit, the four hours before Very Important Visitors are supposed to arrive, and the exact moment you realize you can’t find That One Thing.
Kate Kearney searched: Why aren’t my bookshelves able to fit all my books even though I have space for all of them?
When you bought them, it appeared that they all fit on your shelves. Unfortunately, however, books arrive in a compacted form. After they have been read, they expand fully. Where they had been nicely packaged, square-cornered, level stacks of paper, they unfold into architectural constructs of thought and theme, heart and humor. They can resemble anything from the Pisa’s Leaning Tower, to Prague’s Dancing Building, to the Guggenheim Museum. It’s a miracle you can fit more than one on your shelf.
MadamLibrarian searched: Would you rather be claustrophobic or have an intense fear of heights?
I’ll take acrophobia for $1000, Alex.
I’ve been getting more afraid of heights as I get older. I’m not sure why, other than the fact that my ten-year-old self didn’t have a strong frame of reference for how much a broken leg would hurt if she fell out of a tree, and my twenty-five-year-old self has a better one at least. I don’t want for that fear to be come intense, but I can already see ways to work around it.
Claustrophobia, on the other hand, sounds like it would drastically alter some things that have been unaltered since the beginning of my memory. Small spaces feel cuddly and comforting ninety-percent of the time for me. I would hate to lose that.
Kate Kearney searched: Shall we vanquish our mutual foes with fire or insanity or being more awesome than they are?
I suggest a strong combination of pyrotechnics and awesomeness. I have heard that there is no revenge greater than success, but I don’t think they had considered success toasted with s’mores cooked over a bonfire of your enemy’s ambitions.
Kate Kearney searched: Wait… do we have any mutual foes?
As per the Standard Universal Friendship Agreement: your foes are my foes, and my foes are your foes. At least on every third Tuesday.
Kate Kearney searched: Can our mutual foe be an idea?
Sister, if you can hate it, we can stick in the corner with the FOE cap tilted on its head. If you can hate it, I can hate it (on every third Tuesday). And I’m pretty sure I’ve hated more ideas in my life than I’ve hated people.
Kate Kearney searched: Thoughts?
Are my oldest foes. But I’m still trying to figure out how to feed them to the bonfire.
Have a question for Gwendoogle? Leave it in comments below and I’ll be back next week to answer it.
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