White is an achromatic colour, a colour without hue. An incoming light to the human eye that stimulates all its three types of colour sensitive cone cells in nearly equal amounts results in white. White is one of the most common colours in nature, the colour of snow, milk, chalk, limestone and other common minerals. In many cultures, white represents or signifies purity, innocence, and light, and is the symbolic opposite of black, or darkness. According to surveys in Europe and the United States, white is the colour most often associated with perfection, the good, honesty, cleanliness, the beginning, the new, neutrality, and exactitude.
So while most of what the guys have had to say about the colour white these past few days is correct, I must rectify Michael's Monday assertion that the colour white is the absence of colour - indeed, nothing could be further from the truth. As stated above, it is a colour, but one without hue. It stimulates all our eye's colour receptors in equal amounts.
However, the white colour on television screens and computer monitors is created with the RGB colour model by mixing red, green (not yellow) and blue light at equal intensities. Mixing red, blue and yellow pixels on a computer monitor will give you black, and it is the counter-intuitive red-green-blue that results in white. So we can say that all white in nature is created with red/blue/yellow, and white on TVs and monitors and iPhones etc. is the RGB combo. Savvy?
So what we can then extrapolate from this is that wherever Janus took White Boy on Sunday will stimulate the sensitive cones on his retina to a constant full amount (except at night) and he will consequently either learn to love the color white, become snowblind or go completely bonkers (but he was kinda nutty anyway).
What we can also say is that if you go into our kitchen here at the Unbelievabase and combine red, green and blue, you are likely to come up with something delicious, like this.
Which goes well with a White Russian.
And the soothing sounds of Polar Bears In Purgatory. Polar bears are white, after all. And so are the boys in the band, although not nearly as furry.
Hey, know what else is white?
P.S. Notice how I wrote the word 'colour' with the English spelling about seventeen times in this missive? That's just my little joke on the guys, as they seem to think everything American is superior, including the American lingo. Ha ha!
Thankfully, this Super Bowl (unlike Super Bowl XLVII) went off with relative ease.
There was no pesky Illuminati to contend with. No left-of-center individual out to muck about with the natural order of things. No international crisis for us to look into. And no fashion faux pas to accuse. (Though ... some of Lady Gaga's costume changes, with their shoddy looks, did raise an eyebrow or two, I'm certain.)
Nope. The Unbelievables had a relatively calm, cool and collected Super Bowl weekend of leisure. And we welcomed it.
That was ... until some guy threatened to remove "white" from the face of the earth.
He came calling at our front door unexpectedly. (Which, as you know, is the laundromat entrance to our headquarters.) We flipped on our "entry" monitor when he appeared. None of us were leaving our digs for the likes of some monkey boy with a comical agenda, let alone setting down our refreshments to physically answer the door.
"'White' you say?" Jeff asked.
"As in the color white? Which really isn't a color; it's the absence of color ..." I informed the guy.
"Yep," the twerp acknowledged. "All white, everywhere. I'm going to eradicate it from memory, everywhere on earth."
"I got this," Clark volunteered. He set down his cocktail and picked up the phone.
"Who's he calling?" asked the twerp. (The silliness of his threat wasn't worth the asking of his name, so we never did. It was better swift, effective action be brought down right then and there.)
"You'll see" Jeff responded.
We heard Clark hang up the phone and pick his cocktail back up. "Janus will be here in a jiffy" he stated matter of factly.
"Ooooooo ... I can hear his chopper even now" I smirked.
Sure enough, Janus Jablowski - one of our go-to extraction people we contract on occasion - came into view in his helicopter and dropped a cable with a hook at the business end out of the belly of his chopper.
"You're going to want to stand still for this" Clark suggested to the twerp. No sooner had he said this then the hook scooped him up at the back of his shirt and lifted him skyward. The twerp was screaming like schoolgirl.
"Flip on the skycam, Jeff, will you?" I asked so that we could watch the twerp dangle in midair and fly off into the Stiletto Flats horizon. "Where's Janus taking him, anyway?" I asked Clark.
"The whitest place I know ... Antarctica," Clark responded.
I smiled, stood up and walked over to Clark. "May I freshen your drink, good sir?" I offered.
"You may." His highball glass was proffered to me. I then turned to Jeff: "And what are you drinking, sir?"
"White Russian," Jeff quipped.
We all chuckled at that.
