Monday, September 17, 2007

These May Turn Out To Be Surprisingly Revealing Questions.

That "interview questions" meme that periodically circulates around the web seems to have popped its head up again, and Andrew Ironwood has thus posed me the following questions. (Actually, he gave me a set of "easy" questions and a set of "hard" ones, and invited me to mix'n'match. Which I cheerfully have.)

1) What book have you most recently finished reading?

I just finished Reckless Engineering by Nick Waters. It's um, a Doctor Who novel. Not that I'm obsessed or anything. It was okay. Not great, but okay.

2) What would I most likely find in your refrigerator on any given day?

Coffee. 2% milk (for use in the coffee). I Can't Believe It's Not Butter. Fruit. Possibly some cheese. Well-past-their-sell-by-date eggs. Assorted condiments, most of them left there ages ago by visiting relatives who failed to share my complete lack of interest in condiments. Maybe some orange juice, if I'm lucky.

Gender is an incidental issue; basically, I'm a bachelor. And the fridge, sadly, reflects this.

3) Let us assume a fully grown, completely healthy Clydesdale horse has his hooves shackled to the ground while his head is held in place with a thick rope. He is conscious and standing upright, but completely immobile. And let us assume that-for some reason- every political prisoner on earth (as cited by Amnesty International) will be released from captivity if you can kick this horse to death in less than twenty minutes. You are allowed to wear steel toed boots. WOULD YOU ATTEMPT TO DO THIS?

Probably not, although whether the failure would be due to a lack of faith in my physical strength or my extreme tender-hearted squeamishness is an open question. I can't even help feeling slightly upset about killing cockroaches.

4) You meet your soul mate. However, there is a catch: every three years, someone will break both of your soulmate's collarbones with a Cresent wrench, and there is only one way you can stop this from happening: you must swallow a pill that will make every song you hear-for the rest of your life- sound as if it's being performed by the band Alice In Chains. When you hear Credence Clearwater Revival on the radio, it will sound (to your ears) like it's being played by Alice In Chains. If you see Radiohead live, every one of their tunes will sound like it's being covered by Alice In Chains. When you hear a commercial jingle on TV, it will sound like Alice in Chains; if you sing to yourself in the shower, your voice will sound like deceased Alice vocalist Layne Staley performing a capella (but it will only sound this way to you). WOULD YOU SWALLOW THE PILL?

Bah. That would really suck. But I suppose, being the altruistic, non-horse-killing soul that I am, I would feel honor-bound to put another human being's physical welfare over my own aural enjoyment. And at least I'm getting a non-broken soulmate out of the deal. Not that I actually wanted a soulmate or anything, but if I'm gonna have one, one with functional collarbones would probably be preferable. Also, man, they're gonna owe me, aren't they? That could pay off. Not that I'm basing my decision on such selfish concerns, of course. Not at all.

5) A visitor from the future gives you one free use of a functional holodeck, which he has programmed to be able to simulate *any* sci-fi 'universe' from literature, TV or films. You can choose the location in both space and time, but this holodeck has two peculiar bugs: 1) you have to pick a precise length of time you will be in the simulation before starting (which you cannot change once you are inside and the program is running); and 2) the Mortality Safeguards are, well, not *entirely* reliable. WOULD YOU STILL USE THE HOLODECK, AND IF SO, WHEN AND WHERE (IN WHICH CONTINUITY) WOULD YOU GO?

Aargh. OK, maybe I am obsessive. Because, yeah, how could I resist? And I would go with Doctor Who, not simply because I am obsessive, but because the mortality rate among Doctor Who companions -- the role I assume I would be playing -- is actually very low. Not non-zero, but low. It'd be a hell of a lot safer than, say, Farscape. Hell, I'd feel reasonably safe giving it a few weeks. You know, assuming I had vacation time and someone was feeding my cats, or whatever. Because that would be the single coolest vacation ever. Possibly I would hang around with the Eighth Doctor. (Pre-Time War, obviously. Well pre-Time War. I have no desire to be exterminated by holo-Daleks, although, really, it would be a very me way to die.) And I will steadfastly maintain that my reason for picking number Eight is entirely because he was a cool Doctor who got very little screentime and would thus be interesting to see more of, and not at all because he is incredibly hot. Ahem.

OK. That was... sort of interesting. Anybody want me to ask them questions, now? Because, as I recall, that's how this meme is supposed to work.


  1. Those were some interesting questions - much more detailed than the usual "Would you do this to save humanity?" stuff.

    What are the rules? Do you have to answer all or just some of them? Do you have to answer after reading them, or can you wimp out because they make you think too much?

  2. Well, the rules are that you pop in and say, "ask me some questions!" and then I ask you five questions of my own choosing, and you answer them on your own blog, as honestly or evasively as you like. Or you wimp out, 'cause nobody's holding a gun to your head. :) But I'm afraid mine would be likely to be less odd and thought provoking, because I don't have enough imagination to come up with the Clydesdale question. But if you'd rather just borrow this set of questions, feel free.

  3. You can throw out the condiments we bought on our last trip. Its okay, really.

  4. No condiments, green leafy stuff, or cottage cheese? What do you eat? (You may refuse to answer on the grounds that your father is reading this.) At least you have fruit.

    Yeah, go ahead and hit me with some questions. It sounds amusing, and knowing you as well as I do, I'm certain that they willbe odd and thought-provoking.

    For the record, I have met some Clydesdales while wearing steel-toed boots, and it would be a moot point because, even with the leverage provided by my long legs, I'm fairly certain I couldn't kick one to death within 20 minutes.

  5. Dad: I probably do still have them all.

    Captain C: Um... frozen pizza?

    And, see? How horrible would it be to try to kick a Clydesdale to death and not succeed?

    I'll come up with some questions for ya. Watch this space! Or I'll leave you a note on your blog when I'm done. I'm not awake enough to come up with anything remotely interesting right at the moment.

  6. OK, here ya go:

    1) I like this question, so I'm going to steal it: What book have you most recently finished reading?

    2) What reasons, if any, do you have for believing that you are not actually a brain in a jar hooked up to an incredibly realistic computer simulation?

    3) What's your favorite currently-airing TV show? (No, I don't expect you to say Doctor Who. Unless you really want to, of course. :))

    4) What one piece of horticultural advice would you most wish to impart to those of us with black thumbs?

    5) Describe your evil Mirror Universe twin. (And, no, it isn't me. :))

    There. I hope those are odd and thought-provoking enough. :)

  7. I'll have to answer these and post them to my blog later at home, where I'm allowed to concentrate on one thing for more than five seconds at a time.

  8. I'll look forward to seeing your replies!

  9. Hmmm.. I'm a little surprised to see that Captain C. has listed "General Hospital" as a show he is currently watching

  10. I've been a regular viewer since 1982. The writing has been bad for about a decade, but, sadly, not bad enough for me to stop watching.