Why the internet is ridiculous, chapter 4,512

 

Gecko vs. Ants

So I posted this after my trip to Panama in January, and it has somehow racked up 6,000 hits and 19 comments, including the razor-sharp 'ants r deffinitly stronger than they look.' I find this totally random, especially considering that the other, almost identical video of this has just 388 hits. How do these things get noticed?

Oh well, at least now my tombstone can say 'Frequently embattled, occasionally embittered, and adequately embedded.'

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Forskellige rester

I can't believe I forgot to post this after I came back from Panama.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how much I need another vacation like this. But with a monthly income that probably qualifies me for food stamps in Pakistan, YouTube nostalgizing is about as close as I'm gonna get.

(OK, during the first 10 seconds, watch the bottom righthand corner…)

I put it with the Monkey. Mixed it in the cup. Went over to the girl. "Yo baby, what’s up?"

Behind the scenes bonus: We shot this video 20 minutes before I opened the door of our hostel and almost stepped on a scorpion the size of a housecat. I miss that country…

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Gecko vs. ants

I know, I know, the Panama stuff is getting old. But these are worth checking out, trust me, if for nothing other than Brock's handy summation of the entire trip: "Fuckin' ants, dude."

Gecko vs. ants I

Gecko vs. ants II

 

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Scoriega

So I'm finally back from two tropical weeks in Panama. I won't run down the whole itinerary, but here's a distillation of the coolest bits, in descending uncomfortability:

Finding a Shitzu-sized scorpion outside of our hotel room
Looking down at my leg on our second day and finding a giant yellow spider calmly grazing on my thigh-hair
The three-hour boat ride across a particularly swelly bit of the Pacific, with a frightened 14-year-old helming the Evinrude
Having 'Gringos!' shouted at us routinely
Staying at one of Noriega's old training grounds an hour up a river in the rainforest
Hiking from one mountain town to the other in the densest, weirdest forest I've ever seen
Climbing a(nother) mountain and seeing the Atlantic on one side and the Pacific on the other
Visiting remote hot springs and spending the afternoon soaking (and avoiding bullet-ants)
Meeting not one but three potheaded, alienatingly German hostel owners
Climbing a tower on a hill above the canal, drinking Panamanian beer, and watching the boats go past
Having a family of howler monkeys surround us and hang out for almost an hour

All bullet points aside, it was a great trip. Though I'm really looking forward to heading back to Denmark on Thursday, this 'Christmas pause' has been great. I wish I could have spent more of it actually relaxing, but oh well. My flight back gives me a weekend to kill in London. If bad journalism, cemetery dental work and pedestrian-aimed scud-taxis don't get me ready for Europe again, nothing will.

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99 problems but a ditch ain’t one

So I'm still here at the Panama Canal, taking a sabbath from traipsing through the rainforest (enthusiasm-assassinating moment: "Make sure to duct-tape your pants to your shoes, or else the chiggers will get in."), to relax and catch up with the non-'sting, bite and itch' world. The last 12 days have rendered news on the home front strangely irrelevant, though, so I think I'm just gonna post some pics and head back to Canopy-land for a few more hours before we truck to PTY (Panama Citians use their airport code as shorthand for their city! Just like Portlandiers!) for a big dinner and slight chance of gunfire. Anyway, here's a bunch of pics: These are all Brock's; I'll post mine once I'm back.

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More pics

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Panamania

I´m currently in Gamboa, Panama: 22 degrees from the equator, 1,500 miles from home, and 2 days away from intestinal health. I'll say more about the trip later, but the short version is that it's been fantastic. My travel companion is Brock, whose Latin American experience and Spanish-language skills far outstrip mine.

I've realized that, as an American, my mind can only fit two languages: English and 'foreign'. This pretty much means that I go up to Panamanian people and speak Danish to them until I realize what I'm doing and revert to appalling Spanglish. Yesterday's gem was 'necessito el sack-o'.

Most of the conversations with my traveling companion so far (other than " 'Sack-o?' You asshole.") have been arguments. We've so far reached 'agree to disagree'-ment on the following topics:

 

Is a hydroplane a boat?

If you made a T-shirt out of Spiderweb-silk, would it be bulletproof?

Is a helicopter with jet propulsion still a helicopter?

Who was the 1990s successor to Paul Simon? (OK, maybe it's not Beck, but it HELLA isn't Mark Fucking Cohn)

What does it mean for one country to 'annex' another?

Is prostitution immoral?

Can an engine be made with only one gear? Can it power a bus in, say, Panama?

Is it fair to stop being friends with someone because they sent you a Christmas card?

 

Tomorrow marks our tenth day here, and we're heading to a monkeyed, birded, and spidered island in the middle of the Panama Canal to more or less gape until sundown.

 

… And that Christmas card was totally smarmy. I stand by my decision. 

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