1) A sitcom about a ghost and a zombie... of the same guy.

In the pilot episode, Joe's roommate Ted has a terrible accident and dies. He's buried in the old cemetery by the town's nuclear plant. A few days later Ted's ghost comes home, much to Joe's surprise. Later that day, Ted's zombie corpse shows up to. How will the three of them get along, with all the problems inherent to being a zombie, a ghost, and a single twenty-something grad school student, in an apartment that was just large enough for two people? Hilariously.

I only have one line written so far: "Hey! The brain in the fridge was for biology class!"

Has there ever been a story about a ghost and zombie of the same person before? Does that violate the rules of undead characters in fiction?

2) A map of Earth inverted.

What would Earth look like if it were inverted? The lowest valleys become the highest peaks and vice versa. Where would the lakes and oceans be? How high would the highest mountain be? And what would the new land masses, trade routes, and waterways suggest for an alternate history on this inverted Earth?

3) Shel Silverstein's "The Missing Piece" reimagined as a pie chart.

I thought this idea had potential as something, but it never went anywhere.

4) Twitter as a simulation of OCD

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder sometimes manifests itself as a need to count words and letters. Some people who suffer from OCD need to make their sentences end on a certain word count. I've never been this way. But one day as I was having a hard time recomposing a Twitter message to make sure it fits within the 140-character limit, it occurred to me that this may somehow be similar to the frustration a person with OCD feels.

What do OCD sufferers who need to count letters think of Twitter? Does their OCD make it more frustrating? Or is it no more frustrating than any other task? Is there anyone out there whose particular manifestation of OCD already means that they have to write in 140 characters or less?

5) A mashup of "Back to the Future" and "Speed"

"You built a Time Machine? Out of a city bus?"

It seemed like a good idea until the Libyans rigged the bus with explosives to get back at Doc for stealing their plutonium. Now if it goes below 55 MPH, the bus explodes. But if it goes over 88 MPH, it travels through time.

6) A tribute to Bib Fortuna, set to the song "O Fortuna"

I don't really have any interest in doing this. I just like the idea of it.

And here's Carrie Fisher in Princess Leia costume for comparison:

Previously seen: R2-D2, AT-AT Walkers, the Death Star, more.

Not knowing her plans for the photos, and having no direction for what to shoot, I thought about the experience she would have picking up the mystery photos from the lab and seeing them for the first time. I wanted to take photos that would make her anticipation worthwhile.

These are the photos I took (click any photo to enlarge):

I'm very excited to announce that the Bulbdial Clock I envisioned almost two years ago is now available in time for the holiday season!

The geniuses at the Evil Mad Scientist Laboratories have done all the hard work to make the Bulbdial Clock available as a kit that you can put together yourself with just basic soldering skills*, or give to a loved one for the holidays. Check out their blog for an article about the kit, showcasing some of its features.

Then head on over to the ordering page for information on availability, styles, accessories, and prices. Here are some of the other styles:

*If you're not sure you have basic soldering skills, visit this page to learn what tools and knowledge are recommended for assembling this type of kit. There are a few YouTube videos you might find helpful, too. This one covers basic soldering technique, and this short clip demonstrates soldering a component to a printed circuit board like the Bulbdial Clock.

The gallery features nine of the 25 inventors I've photographed so far as part of an ongoing personal project.

Whenever a new Tim Burton movie comes out, I marvel at the caliber and range of actors he's worked with. So inspired in part by the upcoming Tim Burton retrospective that opens at MOMA in a couple weeks, I decided to compile a list. Here are 94 notable people that you might have forgotten were in movies directed by Tim Burton*:

Christina Applegate Alan Arkin Patricia Arquette Alec Baldwin Kim Basinger Annette Bening Milton Berle Valerie Bertinelli Jack Black James Brolin Pierce Brosnan Jim Brown Steve Buscemi Robert Carradine Helena Bonham Carter Max Casella Dick Cavett Glenn Close Sacha Baron Cohen Sofia Coppola Marion Cotillard Billy Crudup Miley Cyrus Elizabeth Daily Geena Davis Johnny Depp Danny DeVito Vincent D'Onofrio Michael Clarke Duncan Shelley Duvall Morgan Fairchild Albert Finney Michael J. Fox Stephen Fry Paul Giamatti Crispin Glover Robert Goulet Pam Grier Robert Guillaume Lukas Haas Anthony Michael Hall Jerry Hall Phil Hartman Anne Hathaway Freddy Highmore Jan Hooks James Earl Jones

Jeffrey Jones Tom Jones Michael Keaton David Kelly Kris Kristofferson Maurice LaMarche Martin Landau Jessica Lange Christopher Lee Lisa Marie Ian McDiarmid Ewan McGregor Bill Murray Jack Nicholson Leonard Nimoy Catherine O'Hara Barret Oliver Jack Palance Sarah Jessica Parker Cassandra Peterson Michelle Pfeiffer Natalie Portman Vincent Price Missy Pyle Paul Reubens Miranda Richardson Alan Rickman Christina Ricci Tim Roth Deep Roy Winona Ryder Glenn Shadix Martin Short Sylvia Sidney Dee Snider George 'The Animal' Steele Rod Steiger Daniel Stern Tracey Ullman Mark Wahlberg Loudon Wainwright III Christopher Walken Mia Wasikowska Emily Watson Dianne Wiest Billy Dee Williams Robert Wuhl

*For the purpose of this blog entry, I also include the actors from Tim Burton's short film Frankenweenie, plus the "Aladdin" episode of Faerie Tale Theater that he directed.

At an Italian restaurant, Larry, Cheryl, Jeff, and Susie are finishing a meal. Susie announces she needs to use the restroom. "Me, too," says Larry. "I'll walk with you.

"What a gentleman," Susie says, in an uncharacteristically good mood. They walk to the restroom, which is in a part of the restaurant where they can't see their table. Larry comments on what a nice meal it was. Susie agrees.

They part ways, each entering their respective gender's bathroom.

Minutes later, after doing what he went in to do, Larry emerges from the men's room. He stands idly for a moment, looks at the door to the lady's room, and then returns to the dinner table. He has a seat and rejoins Cheryl and Jeff in their conversation.

A few minutes later, Susie comes back to the table. She is upset. "Larry! Where were you?"

"What do you mean?" Larry asks.

"I was waiting for you to come out of the bathroom. Why did you come back without me?"

"Why did you wait for me? We didn't have any sort of agreement. There was no 'I'll meet you back here so we can walk back to the table together' agreement."

"It's common decency, Larry. Everybody knows. In the absence of an agreement to meet back at the table, you always wait outside the bathroom for the other person."

"No. In the absense of an agreement, the default is that you just return to the table. There is no expectation of waiting outside the bathroom for the other person."

An argument ensues, with hilarious consequences.

This got me thinking: What would a forensic reconstructionist make of some famous skulls of fiction? There are characters in film, television, and video games who we've only ever seen as talking skulls. Surely they couldn't have grown to adult size without once being flesh and blood, right? So what did they look like?

To answer the question, I've enlisted the help of an amateur forensic reconstructionist (okay, it was my wife, who never did any forensic reconstruction before but can draw better than I can). Provided with three images of fictional skulls, here are the results:

1. Skeletor

2. Manuel Calavera

3. Jack Skellington

The top one is Arial. If you know what to look for, it probably jumped right out at you. If not, you may see that they're different but still not know which is which.

To test your skills, and help you learn to recognize Arial vs Helvetica, I've taken 20 Helvetica logos and redone them in Arial. (Blasphemy!) A lot of them are just plain awful in Arial. But a couple of them are actually tough to tell apart.

Take the quiz here!

You'll get half of them right by just randomly guessing, but if you don't do much better than that, here are some good resources for you to check out that will teach you the differences between Arial and Helvetica:

Link: How to Spot Arial

Link: Arial and Helvetica overlayed

Link: The Scourge of Arial

Related: The Mr. T Virtual Playset

1) I call this one "The Rat."

2) I call this one "Looks More Like A Rabbit Nose."

3) I call this one "If Mickey and Goofy Had a Child."

All of these were sold as mouse noses, even though the second one is awfully rabbit-like (and oddly asymmetrical). The third one is nice because it has whiskers, but the whiskers curl in weird directions. I bought two of them, and they both had whisker issues.

All of them have teeth, which looks nice except for when the person wearing the nose smiles, showing his or her own teeth. Then it looks like the person has two rows of teeth. It's unsettling.

You can see that the string placement varies from one design to another. Mouse Nose #1 has string attached towards the top. This means that on many head types, the string will be at the bridge of your nose, and will need to practically run across your eyes in order to go over your ears. Mouse Nose #3 does not have this issue. Mouse Nose #2 is somewhere in between, and might be fine if it didn't look so much like a rabbit.

Previously: Idea: Breed a "Mickey" Mouse

Last week, Jerry O'Connell was on Martha Stewart's TV show. You might remember Jerry as a young actor in such 80s hits as Stand By Me and that early FOX CTV show My Secret Identity. She showed him how to make a wood bunny lamp for Jerry's new twins' nursery. They sawed, drilled, hammered, glued, and assembled the lamp, just like shop class.

I landed on the show while flipping through the channels and it caught my eye because I suddenly realized that the 80s actor I really want to see make a lamp on Martha's show is Anthony Michael Hall. Martha can show him how to finally make an elephant lamp with a light that turns on when you pull the trunk. Who do I need to talk to for this to happen? Do I need to start a petition? Does it need to coincide with something for him to promote? The eventual Breakfast Club release on Blu-Ray, perhaps (whenever that happens)? What would be a better promotional event than this one?

2010 is the Breakfast Club's 25th anniversary. How can we make this happen?

Previously: The Breakfast Cereal Club

So I propose that the Senate rename their bill the American Legislative Insurance For Everyone act, a.k.a. the American LIFE act.

Who could vote against the American LIFE act? What Senator wants to be up for reelection and hear their opponent ask "Why did you vote against American LIFE, Senator?"

I floated the idea on Twitter and while many people thought it was a good idea, others rightly pointed out that the word "For" is often omitted from acronyms, so Republicans could just call it the American LIE act. That's a good point. So make LIFE stand for something else. Or come up with another acronym. But a good name could help keep Republicans from defining the bill how they want people to see it.

I can go for years without a migraine, and then get one out of the blue. Sometimes I get a cluster of migraines spread out over a few weeks, and then nothing for several years. I have yet to figure out what triggers my migraines. None of the common triggers -- caffeine, stress, cheese, etc -- seem to affect me. When the headaches come, they last about 6 to 8 hours. From what I hear about other migraine sufferers, I'm lucky they only last that long.

My migraines are almost always preceded by about 30 minutes of visual phenomena that neurologists call "auras." I've never liked the word because saying that I see auras is too loaded with supernatural suggestions. But I know it's the accepted medical term, so I've taken to using it.

Auras are not atypical for migraine sufferers. In fact, migraines with auras are referred to as "classic" migraines. For me, an aura usually starts out as a tiny shimmering spot in the center of my vision. It looks a bit like the after-image you see when someone takes a flash photo of you. Instead of fading like the after-image from a flash would, the spot slowly grows. As it gets bigger, I can see that it has details: it is a colorful shimmering crescent wrapped around a white circle. Gradually, over the course of 20 minutes or so, it grows until the white center fills my entire field of vision. I'm temporarily blind. And then, over the next few minutes it slowly fades away until my vision is back to normal.

I try to consider these auras as early warning systems. If I take medicine as soon as they begin (in my case Excedrin Migraine can do the trick) the headache might be mild or even abort altogether. But if it doesn't work, then awful pain and sensory hyper-sensitivity kick in for the next 6 to 8 hours.

Before the particular migraine episode that this story is about, I don't think I'd had a migraine in about five years. Sometimes I would accidentally glance at a bright light and confuse the after-image for the beginning of a migraine, but happily those incidents all turned out to be false alarms. So I certainly wasn't expecting a migraine on this particular morning when I was sitting in the living room typing a business e-mail on the laptop computer.

I've been touch typing for the past 20 years in a manner that would please Mavis Beacon, with my fingers resting on the home row and my eyes on the screen. I don't think about what my fingers are doing. They move quickly across the keys on their own, tapping out words like it's second nature as I merely think about what I want to write. When I mistype something, I can feel it in my fingers before I notice it on screen, and sometimes I instinctively backspace to correct it before I even realize I've made the mistake.

On the morning in question, I was a few words into a sentence several paragraphs into the email when I realized that nothing I intended to type in that sentence actually made it to the screen. Instead there was just a stream of gibberish. Sometimes this can happen when my fingers accidentally start out in the wrong position; I might type a few words before realizing that my fingers are positioned one key to the right. So I erased the sentence, repositioned my fingers, and started over.

Again, my fingers were typing nonsense. Could I have made the same mistake twice? No, I was definitely starting out in the correct position. I watched my fingers move as I typed. Nothing looked wrong. The sensation was just as familiar as any other time I typed. My fingers moved with the same confidence, as though they knew exactly where they were going to reach the letters they needed to hit. And yet: gibberish on the screen.

I concentrated on typing just one word correctly. Nope. Gibberish.

In the space of a few seconds, I wondered several things. It seemed to me that something neurological was happening. Was it a stroke? I began to see the beginning of a visual aura, and concluded with relief that a migraine was affecting my typing. But I'd never had any early warning other than the visual auras before. Why was I having this now? Is it possible that I would have experienced this if I had been typing during the onset of previous migraines, or was this migraine just manifesting itself differently?

If my fingers were just typing gibberish, how did they know what particular gibberish to type? For example, why did my left middle finger, which only types the letters e, d, and c, know that it was its turn to type the wrong letter instead of another finger's turn? Were the correct signals still being sent, but to the wrong finger? In retrospect I wonder, if I had kept the gibberish instead of erasing it, would it turn out to be a simple substitution cipher for whatever I meant to type, or was it truly complete gibberish?

The famous neurologist Oliver Sacks, himself a migraineur, wrote a book called Migraine in which he describes a variety of interesting symptoms of migraine sufferers. It's not unheard of for some people to experience language disorders during their auras, a condition known as aphasia.. They may be unable to speak even though they understand people clearly. Or they may have trouble understanding what people are saying, as though they are hearing a foreign language. I wonder if this extends to written language. Is it possible that I was actually typing correctly all along, but the words were simply unrecognizable to my brain?

I had planned on writing about this last week, but I didn't get a chance. Life intervened in the form of another neurological event totally new to me and with which I'm now equally fascinated: amnesia. On Tuesday afternoon, I was lying on the couch in my living room, surfing the web with my iPhone. That's the last memory I have before waking up in the bathtub, dry and clothed, with my glasses broken and my head bleeding, and no idea how I got there.

Don't worry. I'm fine now. But that's a story for another time.

Further reading:
• An article by Oliver Sacks about migraine auras in the New York Times.
• A slideshow of migraine art that accompanied the article.
• migraine-aura.org's web page about migraine aphasia.
• The Daily Headache, the blog of a migraine sufferer who has headaches much worse than I do, and links to other migraineurs who blog about their symptoms.

Apology in advance: If you don't have an iPhone and Google Voice, this entry will have limited appeal. Unfortunately, iPhones are pricey and not everyone's cup of tea. But the good news is that Google Voice is free.

Those of you who follow tech news know that there's been quite a dust-up recently over Google Voice apps on the iPhone. First they were allowed, but now they're banned. So until they work things out, or Google comes up with a more elegant web-based solution, placing a call using Google Voice on the iPhone is a long and drawn-out process.

I think I've come up with a simpler way.

I've put together a web app at http://www.ironicsans.com/gv that generates bookmarklets for anyone you want to call with Google Voice, allowing you to organize your contacts as Safari bookmarks. You can arrange them in folders, and then dialing from your bookmarks is as simple as dialing from your normal Contacts app: just tap to dial!

Setting up the first phone number takes a few more steps than I'd like, but after that the rest are easy. Maybe you won't want to take the trouble to add everyone from your Address Book, but it's easy to set up a "Google Voice Faves" folder with all your most-called people.

I haven't tested this on other people's phones, but it works for me so I'll cross my fingers and hope that it works for you. Let me know if you have success with it. I'm a javascript amateur, so I welcome tips for improvement.

Just point your iPhone to ironicsans.com/gv to get started.

NOTE: No phone numbers or any other information are sent to my server. All the magic happens on your end. And this is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Google.

Update: See also this Python script (with instructions for use) submitted by a reader in the comments that will take all of your Address Book contacts and convert them to bookmarklet links in an html file. You can import those links to your Safari bookmarks and then sync with the iPhone. I have not yet tested this. I had to make one small fix (it swapped the phone numbers around), but it works!

So the AP made a confusing announcement this week, outlining a new approach in protecting its content. To some, the AP seemed to be suggesting they could actually prevent people from copying their articles the way DRM can prevent copying of movies and music. But it was pointed out that copying text is pretty trivial, so this sort of “DRM for text” is not possible.

But what if there were something low-tech the AP could include in its articles that actually made a difference? It won’t physically prevent copying, but it just might deter it.

There was quite a buzz in the news a few years ago when a Newcastle University research team discovered that people are more honest when eyes are watching them, even if the eyes are fake.

At the time, psychologists said, “It does raise the possibility that you could get people to behave more cooperatively… by putting up pictures of eyes,” and, “It would be interesting to know how one can apply these sorts of findings more generally in organisational structures and in society in general to maximise upon honourable and altruistic behaviour.”

In the original test, a photocopy of eyes placed above an “honesty box” in a canteen made people more likely to pay when taking a drink. If a mere photocopy will make people honest, maybe a more abstracted set of eyes can still have an effect. I propose an experiment.

This is how the AP currently formats its datelines:

NEW YORK (AP) — A judge ruled Thursday…

I propose a small change:

NEW YORK (AP) Ó›Ò — A judge ruled Thursday…

Yes, that’s right. I’m suggesting that the AP begin putting a little face in all their datelines. It’s the Smiley as copy protection. The AP could come up with their own set of ascii eyes, brand it, and include it in every dateline from now on. They could even pretend it has some other official function, like it symbolizes the AP keeping its eyes out for news. But people would see it and know what it means: “This is an AP article. Please don’t steal it unless you would do so even with your own mother watching.”

Then, when wayward bloggers prepare to copy and paste an AP article, they will be faced by those staring eyes. Maybe they’ll think twice. Maybe they won’t even know why. And then, when they choose to summarize the facts of the article instead of copying and pasting it, the smiley as copy protection will have done its job.