Jesca Hoop

I’ve been listening to the album, Kismet, by Jesca Hoop. Her music is sort of like putting Bjork and Kate Bush in a blender and coming up with an entirely different animal. Sometimes it’s chant-like, sometimes more melodic–but even the melodic stuff takes unexpected diversions. The more I listen, the more I like it. A [...]

“Mr. Cockroach, I make you my zombie! Bwa ha ha!”

My friend Doug sent me a link to this article that was excerpted on Slashdot today. Holy crap. Imagine that you’re an industrious little wasp that has just hunted down a big cockroach. Why go to the trouble of hauling a cockroach three times your own size back to the nest to feed the larvae? [...]

best thing about being over 50

Today I received some junk mail with this enticing offer on the envelope: “Free pre-paid cremation! Details inside.”

wasted newsprint

Just a quick follow-up on my previous entry. The Seattle Times removed the actual point of my letter to the editor, and then printed it, making me seem like an idiot. (That’s right, even more than my usual idiocy.) The idea was to point out that Reiki and Therapeutic Touch were just as useless as [...]

blaaaagh

Yes, there’s a bit of a blog break going on. Events have conspired to turn my world sideways: an entire week of dishes unwashed; significant sleep loss; a confused cat; a house in shambles; and a long suffering spouse gets a bed that can raise up and down with a push button.
A preview of coming [...]

slimy slugs at slothful seacompression

don’t take a name in vain

I’ve always been proud of Maggie for her desire to keep her last name when we were married. Taking the husband’s name, she says, is a holdover from when the woman was considered the man’s property. I’ve read a couple commentaries in the last year that said it very well:

These are excerpts from Salon’s advice [...]

unicorns and rainbows

This photo was printed on edible paper with edible ink. While attending the preciously named “Unicorns and Rainbows” Seacompression event, I visited a tent that offered self-consumption. Inside, a photographer told me to choose what part of me I wanted to eat, and of course I chose brains. He was happy to oblige with [...]