Happy Thanksgiving! Or, given when I'm posting this, Happy
Some Time After Thanksgiving!
We had the usual Thanksgiving Dinner That Couldn't Be Beat
(the main hitch being that the little button that's supposed
to automatically pop up when the bird is done cooking kept
not popping up and not popping up even though I was pretty
sure it was done, and so I got out the thermometer and
stuck it here and there and since it always said at least
180°F we eventually decided that the button just
wasn't doing the job and declared the bird done
I went and read all the previous log entries for previous
Thanksgivings to see if there was anything recorded there that
I ought to remember, and there wasn't really, so we just
sort of faked it as usual and it worked out fine.
(I did alter the chocolate pie recipe on the scrap of
paper in the recipe box to put enormous arrows and
underlines around the place that says to fully cool
the crust before pouring in the filling, because I
forgot that at least two years in a row, and so this
year I finally didn't forget.)
Novel writing going strong!
End of Day Twenty-two: 39,259 (I did the easy goal)
End of Day Twenty-three: 41,547 (The daily 2K)
Currently: 44,182 (Woo woo!)
Tomorrow's goal: 46,000
The rest of the story sort of fell into place in the
shower at the Club yesterday (was that just yesterday?),
so I know pretty much what parts the rest is going to
have, and how long each part will be.
I'm not positive that the part I'm currently writing
(the detour up the mountain) is really effective or
narratively necessary, but this month one doesn't
let that sort of consideration worry one.
I think it's going to come out pretty good; maybe
even good enough that some day I'll clean it up
and make a non-trivial novella out of it or
Or even a short story!
An want on rental motorcar
Cheslak aglow degrees
Re: To rain of democratise chatelaine
FW: did you relaly selp wtih her?
was ask to grumpy slobber
Is see an gatepost jumpy
I like that middlish one.
"Did you relay kelp with her?"
And that's really about all I've got tonight.
I'm Way Sleepy from the proverbial Tryptophan
(Aesop's "The Snail and the Tryptophan"), and
everyone's just sort of lazing around.
I've been playing The Sims 2 a bit, but not to
any real point, and I don't feel like posting any
pictures or stories anywhere at the moment.
(The big Sims news is that Joan Danvers has graduated from
college, leaving the house to her boyfriend Damion
Cormier, and moved back to Rooms to Let.
Damion turns out to be a lazy sloppy Romance dude,
so I don't think Joan's interest in him is going
to continue into adulthood.
On the other hand, she and Peran are becoming
very very interested in each other...)
Happy whatever (did you see the parade with all
the enormous balloons and stuff? woo!), and
Watching my son at basketball practice last night (it still startles
me that I have a son, that I am someone who has a son; I feel it most
often when he's in motion, doing things, at basketball practice in
the school gym or speeding past on his scooter on some back-street
next to the bayhead in Maine, and I say to myself that boy there,
that's my son); I wonder if he has any more idea what's going on
than I did at that age in roughly that circumstance?
He must, or he would never voluntarily have signed up for
basketball; I certainly never did.
So when the coach says "now when you're playing down low and
the center comes in, go to your corner", or "you see how he's
going to the key, so you take it outside and look for the
guard", does he actually know what that means?
Where would he have learned it?
We can't have taught him, because we don't know.
The other kids on his team, the ones that zip around the court
making baskets while more or less upside-down in midair, they
seem to pick it up from the atmosphere (or, I suspsect, from
Maybe he does too (from the atmosphere, that is; not from
It's wonderful that he's decided that this is a thing that he's
going to do, and he's doing it.
I hope he doesn't mind that I'm clueless about it, that I don't
go out to the driveway with him on weekends and show him how
to tell when he's got a shot, and how to pass in one direction
while looking in the other.
(Because I haven't a clue.)
Maybe that's an advantage for him; that this is a thing that
is his and no one else in the family's, so he's himself and
not any of the rest of us.
So odd, life.
End of Day Twenty: 37,115 (right on target)
End of Day Twenty-one: 38,170 (I set, and made, an easy goal)
Today's easy goal: 39,250
Today's harder goal: 40,000 (ooh!)
I looked back at the prior years, and it looks like I'm lagging
behind where I was in 2001 and 2002, but I'm doing slightly better
than I was in 2004.
I'm also amused to see that I wrote
All sorts of temptations occur, in fact (of course).
Various sharp-eyed sexually aggressive female characters
keep sending in their resumés, but we're keeping
them in the in-basket for now.
And now in 2005 we have Mrs. Yolanda Melle, whose eyes are more
smoky than sharp, but who is certainly sexually aggressive.
Guess we forgot to watch for that temptation this year;
More Sims stories keep appearing: here is the very short
Shocking Nudity (in
which Taylor is amazed to see that Candice is bathing
naked), and the much longer
Eleanor the Tycoon
(which is mostly filling in the back-story on the way to
Sally Raptor finally fulfilling her life's ambition, which
hasn't quite happened yet but probably will soon).
Also a brief
note on the oddities of autonomous apologies in the game
(where it seems to be the wronged party that generally apologizes;
perhaps some deep message about human psychology there).
The usual spam engines have been sending the usual stuff,
some of which is quite good; but I thought I'd note a few
that are a bit different:
I'd procreate not sima irene
A begin my astringent resolution
Maddie Lathe your loan
The first one seems to be in Foreign; the second is just
lovely (maybe if I generate another generation-zero Sim I'll
name her Sima Irene); the third one just misses perfection (if
that first word had been "I"); and the fourth is the first we've
heard of Maddie Lathe in some time.
Some anti-Bayes in the body of a recent spam struck our eye:
the shearer, who will shear and not hurt me. them down
with its weight, at once despoiling it of its beauty
which is I imagine a cut-up from some online text, but I
couldn't find it at once.
I especially like "the shearer, who will shear and not hurt me".
Anyone recognize it?
(Ah, wait, there it is in Aesop's "The Widow and the Sheep";
don't know why I didn't find it the first time.
Not bad, but I like to imagine it embedded in something
quieter and more profound.)
Waiting by the hill, I am the stream waiting for
the storm that will fill me, the dry leaf waiting for the wind that
will lift me, the sheep waiting for the shearer, who will shear and
not hurt me.
I am the end of the day, waiting for sleep,
and the grateful mind waiting for the dark.
Something much better than that, of course.
Last year around this time a
In November, you should spend plenty time writing microfiction pieces.
(And not worry about total word count either)
Well, I am worrying about word count at the moment.
But I wonder if we could do something like NaNoWriMo for
Both "WoMiFi" and "WoMiFiWriMo" seem to be free (NaNoWriMo
is stuck with "Na" for historical reasons, but no reason for us
to repeat the error).
What should the rules of World Microfiction Writing Month be?
Not wordcount, obviously.
And it doesn't take long to write comparatively uninspired
And should it be in November, so people could do both
I'm thinking that the rule might be, say, to write one decent
microfiction on at least twenty-five different days of the relevant
Where "microfiction" means that if you show it to someone they say
"whoa, that's really short!", and "decent" means decent (as in
"not horribly bad", of course, rather than "fully clothed").
And we can use "WoMiFi" as del dot icio dot us and Flickr tags,
and generally take over the world.
How does that sound?
To close with a couple of "links":
A pair of programmers
who disassembled Sony's now infamous rootkit Digital Rights Management
scheme, have found code that appears to have been plagiarized from VideoLAN,
an open source media player distributed under the GNU General Public License.
Worse, the code in question was written by "DVD" Jon Lech Johansen, author of
a number of DRM-busting programs.
(I'm not sure that "worse" is entirely the right word there,
but maybe that's just me.)
(which I've been forgetting to read recently, so you'll have to go read it
all yourself), a good
all this 'getting rid of haeas corpus' stuff that we've been
worrying about lately.
Worry worry worry...
End of Day Fourteen: 27,422 (right on goal)
End of Day Fifteen: 30,058 (also)
End of Day Sixteen: 31,032 (slacking off)
End of Day Seventeen: 31,032 (oops)
End of Day Eighteen: 33,018 (better)
End of Day Nineteen: 35,015 (better)
Currently: 36,039 (okay)
Today's goal: 37,000
So we're by no means keeping On Track, but it's not at all
inconceivable that we'll get to fifty thousand by the end of
We've been distracted by other things, and we've been lazy,
and all like that.
On the other hand the story is pretty well formed in our
("our"?) in my mind, and I think I'm going to like it when
it's all done.
I saw a clip on teevee or somewhere of
the guy who sings that "Tramps Like Us" song singing
that "Tramps Like Us" song, and he sang "Tramps like us,
baby we were born to run".
Doesn't it go "Tramps like us, baby we was
born to run"?
That's how I always thought it went.
Maybe I've switched universes again.
you write by exodus
let's meet hypothyroid
Re: She edwina others visigoth
Be put the sabbatarian telling
She, Edwina; others, visigoth.
The Silent Day Project
involves a group of individuals who are exploring the impact of their
own voices on their world by voluntarily giving up all verbal
communication for one day every month. With this blog, we will
share our experiences, reflections, and discoveries.
I want to protest
the indifference, the poor design, the silent treatment, the battle
shout fiasco, the shot cooldown fiasco, the massive list of unfixed
bugs, our gigantic mess of a talent tree, yes I even want to protest
Lacerate. I want to protest the sight of mages dismounting in our
deadzone, casting frost nova and then resting a coffee cup on
their "I Win" button.
Yeah, dontcha hate it when mages dismount in your deadzone and
cast frost nova?
Politics in pictures:
Adel is innocent.
The military people
reached this conclusion, and they wrote it
down on a memo, and then they classified the memo and Adel went
from the hearing room back to his prison cell.
In case anyone
thinks that habeas corpus is in no danger, please
Mustn't entirely succumb to temptation and just vanish into
the novel and the Sims.
At least not until we've found a deity with some clue
to watch the store for us while we're in there...