Extra Tart

People, please. These are all DIFFERENT things.

Gloves

A fitted covering for the hand with a separate sheath for each finger and the thumb.

Mittens

A covering for the hand that encases the thumb separately and the four fingers together.

Fingerless Gloves

A fitted covering for the hand with a separate open tube for each finger and the thumb.

Fingerless Mittens (aka “Mitts”)

A covering for the hand with one opening for the four fingers and another for the thumb. The thumb hole may extend into an open tube.

Gauntlets can refer to any of the above, indicating a long, flared cuff. (See the “gloves” picture, above.)

It’s not that complicated! Words mean things! Use them like they do!

(All images are CC Licensed. Gloves by peskymac, Mittens by adamknits, Fingerless Gloves by Cam Pervan, Fingerless Mittens by The Queen of Subtle.)

So, what did you do with your evening?

I played banjo while trying to install Linux on a 10-year-old laptop, why do you ask?

But wait! It gets even geekier!

Lately I’ve been obsessed with the idea of a zombie attack at my workplace. It started off with noticing how many blind corners there are - there’s hardly 5 straight yards of hallway before you have to go around a tight corner, any of which could contain any number of slavering zombies. Then I started thinking about how all of the offices one one side have basically front-facing glass walls, and all the doors are hollow-core, so it’s not like you could even barricade yourself in somewhere (or block them out). There aren’t many things that could be weaponized; no wooden chairs or desks, no conveniently-located tool closets, no industrial machinery. There are a number of fire extinguishers, but they’re all the wee little ones that wouldn’t even slow a zombie down, much less provide any sort of stopping power. There’s ONE room that could, theoretically, provide a spectacular zombie-movie scene - a server room that has one of those remove-all-the-oxygen fire suppression systems - except that zombies don’t need to breathe, so it wouldn’t actually be all that spectacular. (Well, I guess you could go for a fake-out scene, but it wouldn’t be helpful if you were actually in the zombie attack.)

Moving outward, the perimeter is protected by a barbed-wire-topped fence, which could be easily overwhelmed by a sufficient zombie mass, and yet still provide choke points for any humans attempting to escape. There are armed guards, but there is also a bullet hole in the wall from when the guards were still allowed to clean their firearms inside, so I’m not going to count them for much, unless maybe it’s finding a weapon on a half-chewed body. Pretty much the only hope would be knowing the mazelike layout well enough to nip out a side door and hope to break free once outside, but that’s a pretty slim chance.

So I’m complaining about the utter lack of foresight and anti-zombie planning that’s gone into this building, when K interrupts with, “Well, you do have one good defense.”

“Oh?” I say.  “What’s that?”

“Zombies don’t exist.”

Oh. Well, if you’re going to be all like THAT about it…