Cold Ground

2003-09-25T13:33:00.000-07:00

Moving Out

Reset your Online GPS units, folks, Cold Ground now has a new home. Hopefully it'll be far less bothersome for me, while at the same time be more central.

2003-09-24T09:52:00.000-07:00

Oh no! This is tragic! The bigger shame is that Brown was still working up until the end, although of course I was a bigger fan when I was a kid.

2003-09-23T20:55:00.000-07:00

Thinking about jumping ship

I'm contemplating moving over to Typepad and paying real money to have a service that actually works, including a decent online photo album (for two weeks now, Fotolog has not allowed me to upload a picture). I'm waiting to hear back from some users, but does anyone out there have an opinion?

2003-09-16T14:22:00.000-07:00

This visit to a cemetery is a remarkable site. Make sure your sound it up, and make sure you roll the mouse over each image. Visit the seasons and click on each cross to see them all.

While a few of the effects were a bit too much, most of them were subtle and wonderful and mixed quite well with what is quite excellent photography.

Oh, and I think viewing it late at night on your own might be most effective.

(Via Real Live Preacher)

2003-09-16T12:59:00.000-07:00

Soccer

First game of the playoffs was last Thursday night, after a rainout from last Sunday. I played center-forward for most of the game, and I'd say it was my best since coming back to the outdoor game (four years ago, after almost 20 away). Lots of good passes, plenty of chances, gave the defenders a few fits with ball control and by stealing a few from them.

It started for me with a good pass up the middle which I beat everyone to, but a defender was breathing down my neck and I shot hard instead of chipping the ball, and the goalie had come out to challenge me, so the ball went off his face, as did his defender. This play, incidentally, wound up being photographed for the local rag. I'm floating in the air, as is the ball, and the defender has just started running down his keeper. We all have our eyes closed. The tagline reads: "Real masters play with their eyes closed." Har har har.

I had a couple of other somewhat weak shots on net, then a hard shot from my right striker bounced off the goalie's hands and to my feet. From 5 feet away I roofed it; would have been embarassing to put it over the net, but that put us up 1-0. And this play was on the 11pm news that night, the cameraman working from the far corner of the field, so even zoomed in I'm the little guy in the middle. But still, you see the goal plain as day, as well as my turning to calmly celebrate.

A little later, I was in the box and harassing the goalie when our leading scorer tried to sail one to me for a header. It was too high for me, but he scored on it, so that was fine.

But then we let them get back in the game. They got a questionable penalty kick goal, and then our goalie (not our regular) got sloppy on a long ball. 2-2.

Shortly after, the ball was sent to me and I drifted a gentle header that would have beat the goalie in the top corner, but it missed and landed on top of the bar instead. Then my left striker got a goal but they called it offside.

And then, me back on right mid, one of their defenders got fancy with it, almost on his line and a few feet from the goal. Nick, the right striker, challenged him, and the ball came to his feet and bounced into the net. 3-2. This play was also on the news, but almost entirely blocked by the linesman, who was standing three feet in front of the camera's lens.

10 seconds after the other team kicked off, the ref blew the game over.

Game 2 was Sunday afternoon. I was a little wobbly, with a couple of moments that involved weak passes, but I still made some good plays and my ball control was excellent. We grabbed a fairly early 1-0 lead and almost had a couple more, then sat back as the other team tried to make a go of it, but any time they could have had a decent chance they shot blanks - I think they missed our net five times in the game, including on one breakaway. Our keeper was also on his game.

Second half we scored another, then near the end one for insurance. By early in the half it looked like some of our opposition's players were going to get in a fight with each other, they were so crabby about everything, which of course only helped us out.

This Sunday is the final, and the team we expected to face was knocked out this past Sunday. The team we face instead is one that beat us a few time, but we did win the opener of the season, 1-0, so there's always hope.

2003-09-16T12:42:00.000-07:00

Scotland, Day Five

Or, London, Day Two

Most of this day was spent sight-seeing, riding an open-topped double decker bus around the city and getting a handle on where things were. We got off several times, most notably at Trafalgar Square and Shakespeare's Globe Theatre (where the play was sold out, and the tour did not allow for a visit to the theatre itself, due to the play. So we just poked around).

We also took a cruise on the Thames, and walked around quite a bit so that I could take notes on various locations as well as get some pictures of statuary (all for the book). It was a long and tiring day, and so of course we decided to walk to Picadilly Circus that night, where we had supper and then took in a movie.

The home was quiet and often along almost deserted streets. I don't feel I can give adequate coverage to the Frightening Midget Story, so I'm afraid I'll have to insist that anyone reading this bug me about it next time they see me.

2003-09-12T13:50:00.000-07:00

Somebody down there is crabby about our money.

2003-09-11T10:32:00.000-07:00

All the phobias you could hope to find, in one handy place.

2003-09-10T13:44:00.000-07:00

Badgers! Make sure the sound is turned up.

2003-09-09T14:58:00.000-07:00

More from the first day in London

After settling in and checking out the chapel, we walked (a mistake, but I was too pigheaded to say so at the time) to the Science Museum so that I could see their collection of math artifacts, especially Napier's bones. Of course, being a Saturday, there was nobody on staff for me to talk to, so we then headed over to the Natural History Museum, which, like the Science Museum, was free admission (aside from a small fee to see the T-Rex exhibit, which was worth it).

I must say that I wish I had several days to see these two museums, and nothing else, especially the Natural History one. On and on and on they went, treasures hidden around every corner, and the Darwin Centre added to the mix. Afterward, we took in an outdoor exhibit of some amazing aerial photography by Yann Arthus-Bertrand. Then, supper, another long walk back to the apartment (what was I thinking?) and we were asleep, in London on a Saturday night, by 9:30.

2003-09-09T14:41:00.000-07:00

Scotland, Day Four

Which is, in reality, London, Day One.

Lucky we left the B&B early enough, because we drove around downtown Edinburgh for some time trying to figure out where the long-term parking was. Turns out it's right beside Waverley Station, and we had even found it before, but the signs don't lead one to believe that it is long-term.

Because we were travelling on a Saturday, GNER (and I suspect all of the Britrail partners) offered something called "Weekend First," where ordinary second-class citizens like us could sit in a first-class car and pay £15 each to upgrade. Because of this wonderful idea, we rode in plenty of comfort, with no one threatening to sit beside or across from us. We watched the countryside roll by, watched an RAF jet fly out over the ocean, and especially enjoyed seeing the first stop along the way, a very pretty-looking town called Berwick Upon Tweed. We hope to return some day.

On arrival in London, we caught the tube from King's Cross Station to the Victoria Tube Station. On arrival there I promptly sank to the floor in a panic, having realized that I had left all of my important contact papers sitting in the passenger door of the car back in Edinburgh. This included that map to the aprtment where we were staying, as well as the name, address, and phone number. I had nothing!

I also couldn't remember the name of the company that had set me up to stay there, so the tourist booth could not help me. So Jo and I decided to head out into the street to see if anything rang a bell. Nothing did, but Jo spotted an internet shop, so we stopped there and I did the same search that had resulted in finding a place the first time. I found it, and was lucky the catch the person in on a Saturday. She gave me the details and we walked the three blocks to the apartment, only to find that our hostess was not in. So we took our suitcase, went and had lunch, then headed back. Our hostess, Jessica, was an older and volatile Itailan immigrant who assured us she had been there the whole time, even though earlier someone had let me into the building so I could go up and beat on the door. However, we quite liked her, and enjoyed the non-stop chatter she subjected us to every morning.

The apartment itself was built in the late 19th century, and was chock full of the most interesting clutter one could imagine, paintings and drawings and sculpture and books and a mini grand piano and hats and plants and and and... Its balcony overlooked the side of Westminster Chapel, which warranted a visit and, while not as spectacular as its Anglican fellow, was still an amazing place to visit.

... continued above.

2003-09-07T11:12:00.000-07:00

Scotland, Day Three

(note: There are now three photos up at my fotolog, all B&W)

We started the day with a bus trip out to Napier University so that I could have a look at Merchiston Castle (pronunciation note: it's a hard "ch"), where John Napier spent his years as laird. The building is attached to the rather tactless architecture of the university, but certainly still retains its character, perhaps even moreso because it is forced to stand out against so much glass and steel and concrete.

Inside, I lucked out by finding a wonderful receptionist who was willing to get me whatever info she could on Napier and the castle, and to boot she found me a security guard who was happy to take me for a tour of the building. It turns out that it is now used as offices and meeting rooms, and much of it has been fixed up to look as it might have 400 years ago. There were amazing paintings on the wood panelling of the ceiling at the top, which the guard told us were original, but sadly, I found out later that, while they dated from the same time, they had been moved from another building that was falling apart. After our tour, I went to the library, again finding someone willing to dive in and help, and ended up watching a terrific video about Napier.

After a quick lunch downtown, we went to meet with the tour guide we had hired to take us out to Roslyn Chapel. The tour was the sort of flaky, new age sort of thing that I might normally avoid, but for the purposes of the book it suited me just right. However, we almost didn't get to take it since directions were mishandled and Jo and I stood at the wrong corner for about a half hour. When we did catch up with her, traffic in the city was so bad that we were afraid we'd never make it out.

We did, though, and even though there was a hideous scaffolding covering the chapel to protect it from the elements, Roslyn was everything I might have imagined, and more. The carvings were amazing and seemed to cover every square inch of the walls and ceiling, and the sense of being someplace mystical was as strong as anything I've ever felt in my life. I hope to post a few pix soon.

After, we walked through Roslyn Glen, another amazing place, with carvings from hundreds of years ago and a view of some ancient Pictish carvings from across the river. And then we headed back, dropped off near our B&B so we could get supper and enjoy a walk on the beach.

2003-09-05T18:43:00.000-07:00

Fotolog is still wreaking havoc, but somehow one my Scotland pix finally found its way up there. Check the site for more B&Ws for the next little while before I switch over to shots from the digital camera.

2003-09-05T16:59:00.000-07:00

In between trip notes, a brief limerick, written for me by my friend Guy Gavriel Kay on the occasion of a party for the mistress of his website, Bright Weavings:

An audacious Murphy named Derryl
Attended the Hugos dressed in a barrel!
When fans queried his attire
He said, eyes flashing fire,
If Sawyer wins, this IS my apperyl!

There were many of these going around that night, as Guy seemed to have one for almost eveybody in attendance. This was, of course, in conjunction with Worldcon in Toronto.

2003-09-05T16:23:00.000-07:00

Scotland, Day Two

It turns out that in the UK (and, for all I know, in all of Europe), customer service takes on a different meaning with car rental companies. Turns out I was spending £7/day for insurance with a £500 deductible which didn't include the sort of roadside assistance I might find in Canada or the US. In other words, I had to pay to replace the flat tire from the night before, Like as Like. £50, which is around $110. So the day didn't start off all that well.

However, we got downtown and poked around, braving the enormous crowds all there for the Festival, which includes the Fringe and the Tattoo and everything else. I think I recall reading somewhere that the population more than doubles during this time, and I think every single one of them heads on down to the Royal Mile. Crowds or not, it was quite something, seeing so much history being treated so well, still alive and worth having around.

Then it was on to the National Library of Scotland, where I found several volumes by or about John Napier that were well worth scoping, including two from the late 16th and early 17th centuries. Much meat for the novel.

After a late lunch, we took a tour of the city in an open-roofed double-decker bus, and then went underground to see Mary King's Close, a group of streets and rooms that were once in the open but covered up in the 19th century by the construction of council chambers. It was a fine tour, although we were accompanied by a couple of young and drunk Scots, and they never said a word about shutting plague victims into the Close in 1645; I had to read that online while finding a good link for this entry.

That night we had drinks with Charlie Stross, Stephen Baxter, who was in town for the Book portion of the Festival. And then we staggered home (not from drink, but from exhaustion, pausing for a bite to eat from a trailer being run by two French guys and to watch the fireworks as the Tattoo ended for the evening.

2003-09-04T16:00:00.000-07:00

Scotland, Day One

We started with one of the worst flights of my life, on Air Transat, a charter with seating designed for a trip to the abattoir and a reputation for gliding over the Atlantic. No matter the saving, Jo and I are agreed that we won't do that again.

Arrival in Glasgow was a bit before 8am, local time. After clearing customs, we caught a shuttle over to Thrifty to pick up our rental car, a little Ford Fiesta, severely underpowered even with a 5 speed manual transmission, and it was hell to put it into Reverse. But I managed the left hand side of the roads okay, and we managed to fight through rush hour and construction to make it to Edinburgh, where for quite some time we drove around lost and in a daze (did I mention that we couldn't sleep on the seven hour flight?).

Finally we found our first B&B, the Joppa Turrets Guest House. They of course weren't ready for us, so we wandered up the street and had a bite to eat, then headed back and had a three hour nap. After the admittedly too-short snooze, we drove off to St. Andrews, not quite two hours away, to have a short visit with Jane Yolen. However, the car got a flat while we were in town, so after walking over to her house and enjoying a short visit and tour (a beautiful house and garden!), I left with her husband to change the tire. This was a task that I could have accomplished on my own, but I was so tired that it didn't even occur to me to look for a spare and a jack.

Tire changed, we headed back in the dark. The road signs were frightening, and so were the roundabouts, but somehow we managed to find our way back and fell into bed, having been awake 35 out of the previous 38 hours.

2003-09-04T14:49:00.000-07:00

Bob teaches idiots about the differences between its and it's.

2003-09-04T10:03:00.000-07:00

While you're waiting, check out this great article about Canada.

2003-09-03T11:52:00.000-07:00

I'm back, I'm exhausted, and I'm swamped with mail of all types, to say nothing of back to school for all and soccer playoffs about to start. I'll post soon on Scotland and on Torcon, and pictures will start going up later today, I hope. A note will be left here when it happens.

2003-08-10T20:34:00.000-07:00

Gone to Scotland, then to Worldcon in Toronto. No links. too busy, lots of updates when I'm back.

(Lost my passport for about a half hour last night. Mmm-boy, this was a happy household.)

2003-08-08T08:08:00.000-07:00

I can't believe that I'm linking to this, since Hitler: Hot or Not is some kinda sick. (Via BATF.)

2003-07-31T15:28:00.000-07:00

Some questions here about whether or not authors with Publish America would be eligible for membership in SFWA (um, No, although not for any paranoid reasons suggested). An interesting story here about some rather bizarre negotiations with the same company.

Alyx, if you're out there, what's up with Broad Universe? I'm assuming some of this means that they're willing to take any female writer as a member, no matter the screwing she's taking (in a business sense, I might add). If so, I'm a little disturbed.

2003-07-30T14:17:00.000-07:00

Shaolin ping-pong.

2003-07-30T09:59:00.000-07:00

Via Cruel Site of the Day, a look at a legal document about the word "Fuck" and a rather frightening beard.

2003-07-23T22:49:00.000-07:00

A fine day:

Starts with the sun shining, the boys in good moods. Me, I take my time getting rolling, then head out to stain the deck, doing the walking surface today, using a pole, and dancing to Peter Gabriel and Youssou N'Dour singing "Shaking the Tree" as I stain which causes Bren to roll his eyes.

Then, lunch, followed by a trip to the local spray park, where we meet Meghan and her kids Sebastian (one of Bren's friends) and Lachlan, and Aidan bumps into his friends Kielland and Matthew, and they all play and have fun and I get to have a daytime conversation with an adult, with interruptions averaging only one every couple of minutes.

And then the three of us trundle over to the Exploration Place Museum, where they have this great program called the Nature Exchange; Aidan brings in objets de nature and they give him points for them, which he can blow on something else right away (which he has done previously), or bank for something big and cool (which he is convinced he will do, ever since he heard one boy has a whopping 39,000 points).

He trades in:

One small clam shell - 5 points (sigh)

One medium-sized sand dollar, from Nova Scotia - 200 points (better)

One tiny (1 cm across) and perfectly whole skin of a spider that had moulted, and I had found it while staining the other day - 500 points (wow!)

Pick up Jo from work, hang out a bit, no fights, no kids yelling and screaming. Take the dog for a walk in the nice cool evening breeze.

More days should be like today.

2003-07-19T12:39:00.000-07:00

More on the trip (grief, I've been busy!).

We caught the ferry back to Horseshoe Bay, then drove through Vancouver and eventually made it to South Surrey, where we were staying at my Aunt and Uncle's house (although they weren't there, although my cousin Christa and her boyfriend Warren, a former Olympic mountain bike rider, were). During the next three days we visited Stanley Park and the Vancouver Aquarium therein (for a look at one of the sights there, go here), the CN Imax Theatre to watch Bugs (3D); during one scene when a swack of butterflies were flying around, a little girl in front of us was trying to catch them, and Brennan said "They're in the movie, for Pete's sake!" Our little literalist. We also hit the beach at White Rock.

The trip was mostly for the boys, since Jo and I will be away for our own trip, but we did get a couple of visits in. Alyx met us for the Imax movie, and Randy and his son Ryan met us for lunch. Both visits were pleasurable and far too short, coupled with us being ever-so-tired.

We got on the road by 9 on Friday morning, and stopped at Hell's Gate, taking the tram down for lunch. Then we basically doodled about on the rest of the drive, taking 12 hours for what normally can be done in 8 or 9. The dog was excited, and we were tired. But it was a good trip.

2003-07-16T12:35:00.000-07:00

An interesting take on where digital cameras might take us. (Via Gizmodo.)

2003-07-12T11:20:00.000-07:00

We're back, after almost a week away. Our first stop was in Lillooet, where we just spent the night. The drive was gorgeous, with twisty-turny roads that dropped precipitously and cooked the brakes so bad they smelled for three days afterward.

The next location was the Sunshine Coast. We stayed for a night in a hotel in Sechelt, and visited Gibson's Landing, home of The Beachcombers and Molly's Reach. The next day we hiked to Smuggler's Cove and then Skookumchuk Narrows Provincial Parks. The Narrows were a real treat, an incoming tide that was more like a river; the roar could be heard a half-hour away, deep in the temperate rainforest. A five mile walk, return, and the boys handled it like troopers.

More next time up...

2003-07-06T10:33:00.000-07:00

In one of the great odes to colonialism, Kipling notes:

Take up the White Man's burden,
And reap his old reward--
The blame of those ye better
The hate of those ye guard--

This excellent post by Billmon (you may have to scroll back up just a notch) shows just how the Americans seem to have taken on the role the British knew so well when the Sun Never Set.

Do read the poem, and make sure to cast a critical eye on the amazing similarities between it and comments such as "I thought they [the Iraqis] would be more enthusiastic. I mean, who wouldn't want to live like Americans, to live in democracy, to send your children to school? I'm surprised at how naive the Iraqis are..."

In other news, we're out of here for about 6 days, and it's unlikely I'll be posting much, if at all. In the meantime, if all works out (I may be doing some edits on the road later today), cast your eye towards Strange Horizons tomorrow for my academic paper "Interstellar Conflict Across Time: Military and Structural Similarities and Differences Throughout the History of Space Opera."

2003-07-02T22:37:00.000-07:00

Major Jack Veness has died at age 80, a true Canadian war hero. There's a great short-hand rendition of his story here.

I'll note that while Veness was fighting for our freedom, he had no leaders hiding in their holes back home daring the enemy to "Bring it on." Oi, what an idiot; just the sort of comment to make life that much more difficult for American soldiers in Iraq. Fanatical Apathy puts a few words into Dubya's mouth to follow that initial idiotic statement (link via Electrolite).

2003-07-01T15:52:00.000-07:00

I've yet to visit New York, although I someday hope to. Randy's a fan, I know, and since today's the day that Gangs of New York is being released on DVD, I thought it would be neat to share a few sites that deal with the city's past.

2003-06-30T09:14:00.000-07:00

I love checking the Astronomy Picture of the Day. Imagine my shock to discover that the universe is giving us the finger.

2003-06-26T12:38:00.000-07:00

Via Dave Barry, a collection of the finest reviews that Amazon.com has to offer. This stuff has kept me laughing for much too long.

2003-06-26T10:47:00.000-07:00

I predicted this (after a fashion) a few years ago, in my story "The History of Photography." I like my digital cameras, but film is still where the real thing is at for me.

2003-06-25T11:01:00.000-07:00

Not that I'm planning on getting married again (obviously, since I'm not planning on getting divorced again), but the I Do Foundation is a marvelous idea. More people should know about this sort of thing.

2003-06-25T09:47:00.000-07:00

A very funny article, "Harry Potter and the fascist bully-boys", taking a shot at what some people think about kidlit:

"They don't celebrate Rosh Hashanah or Diwali at Hogwarts," Wilder, aged three, explained to an inquisitive neighbour who was leaning over the garden wall and quietly choking on the smoke. "And are you aware that in the entire Harry Potter canon there isn't a single disabled child?"

"Differently abled, I think you mean, Wilder," corrected Tyler, aged five. "But it's the blatantly racist depiction of the house elves which bothers us most. Rowling seems to be sanctioning both the brutal, exploitative system of slave labour and the iniquitous racial segregation which existed within the antebellum plantations in the deep south of America until the latter decades of the last century."

"It wouldn't surprise us much," added Wilder wryly, "if her next book was called Harry Potter and the Annexation of the Sudetenland. Come on," he screamed, turning back to the fire, "burn, you Nazi bastards."

2003-06-24T21:35:00.000-07:00

Writing on the Op-Ed page of the New York Times (registration required), Bill Gibson writes: "Elsewhere, driven by the acceleration of computing power and connectivity and the simultaneous development of surveillance systems and tracking technologies, we are approaching a theoretical state of absolute informational transparency, one in which "Orwellian" scrutiny is no longer a strictly hierarchical, top-down activity, but to some extent a democratized one. As individuals steadily lose degrees of privacy, so, too, do corporations and states. Loss of traditional privacies may seem in the short term to be driven by issues of national security, but this may prove in time to have been intrinsic to the nature of ubiquitous information."

For some time, here in Canada we had a man fighting for privacy rights, but it turns out he was a jackass and probably a liar. I regret the way he has left his post, because I fear the position won't be taken very seriously in the future. No, strike that: privacy is not taken seriously now, so why should that change? We live in a world where daily we give up all sorts of details that likely should be private, and do so quite happily. Yes, corporations and governments could feasibly be held accountable for transgressions, but it's always a hit and miss game, looking to see what the future might bring, and to whom it might be delivered. Corporations and states are intrinsically stronger than individuals, with many more hidey-holes in which to sink their secrets. Does it really do me any good to discover 40 years from now the smoking gun that proves Iraqi WMDs were our generation's Gulf of Tonkin incident? Any tricked-up casus belli brought to light then will end up casting certain people, likely dead, in a negative fashion, but at that point, just how much do they care?

Still and all, it's a good piece, well worth reading. I just surprisingly find myself in the more cynical mindframe.

2003-06-24T15:55:00.000-07:00

All the Great Operas. A very clever animation that tells the plot of 11 operas in just a few minutes. Ring of the Nibelung was my favourite. In all, 26 people and 12 gods dead, which is quite the toll.

2003-06-23T15:52:00.000-07:00

There I am, on the right, in the Master's Division line, down near the bottom. And dammit, on Sunday I should have had another, but didn't flick my head hard enough or in time. I'll try and make up for it this Wednesday.

2003-06-23T13:24:00.000-07:00

I've started a Fotolog, a kind of photographic blog. We'll see where this takes me.

2003-06-22T10:23:00.000-07:00

In a pretty reasonable article (which I find surprising, considering the source), the last paragraph just lets it all go to hell. Talk about bizarre conspiracy theories. Especially since it's Canadians who usually think it's the US sticking it to us on purpose. Yes, I can see where legalized pot and gay marriages tie together as a protest over the war in Iraq. I can also see little green men doing a dance on the back lawn, right this moment.

2003-06-19T22:56:00.000-07:00

Not me, thanks. I'm proud of the stuff.

2003-06-18T16:48:00.000-07:00

I'll just post this again, since the page has been updated: the contents page and a picture of the cover for the anthology Open Space is up. I'm still somewhat taken aback that I only recognize something like eight names here, not including the Intro and Afterward.

And since I'm riffing on it, how about an oh-so-brief sound bite? Here's a short moment from "More Painful Than the Dreams of Other Boys," coming your way in August:

There weren't many cars on the streets, but that was normal for Templeton. Instead, Mike watched as they roared past bicycles and skateboards and scooters and pedestrians, even some smaller kids riding metal or plastic trikes. It was close to the end of the day, so he imagined most of them were coming home from work or school right now.

A billboard on the side of one of the buildings advertised two old Shirley Temple and Jackie Coogan movies playing at the art house theatre, a retrospective from when they had first quit acting and moved into directing, sharing that bill with adult directors on the other side of the Line –- a procedure no longer in vogue. Coogan was dead now, had crossed over and aged a couple of decades ago. But Temple, Mike knew, lived still, hiding in her suite uptown, tucked away like a miniature version of Garbo, unwilling to face or deal with anyone in the town that carried her name.

He watched several heads turn sharply as they went by, and he knew he was seeing looks of shock on some of the faces as they realized what the passenger in the cop car was. He'd never seen such a sight himself, all the years he'd lived in Templeton, so he could imagine just how bizarre he looked.

Danny cut the motor and let the little car roll to a halt in the middle of the road. Mike managed to pry open the door with a moderately paralysed hand and then practically fell out of the car and to his knees, thinking this was a great way to start as he stood and brushed dirt and gravel from his pants.

There was a crowd standing near the yellow tape, about three dozen kids, looking anywhere from five to fifteen years old. As he approached they all stepped back, almost as one, staring up at him. It was an unsettling feeling, combined with everything else that was happening; he knew he'd gotten taller since leaving Templeton, but looking down at them and seeing just how much most of them had to crane their necks to look back up at him, the changes he had gone through hit home that much harder.

2003-06-18T15:50:00.000-07:00

Curse all you cat owners. Especially you guys.

That said, some of my best friends are cat people, so what do I know?

2003-06-18T09:06:00.000-07:00

"You are writing children's books, you need to be a ruthless killer." Obviously I will be reading this to Aidan as quickly as possible in order to not spoil the surprise.

2003-06-16T22:58:00.000-07:00

Colour me surprised. I didn't figure that the feds would have the guts to let it ride, but it sounds like Cauchon is not going to fight the same-sex marriage rulings. While a small case could be made to fight it in order to clamp down on judicial activism, and then finally bring it to Parliament to set it up via the legislative process, I think in this case the judges were not being activists, but rather were pointing out to the government that they have had loads of chances to fix this mess and have continually passed the buck.

Like it or not, marriage in this country is no longer the exclusive domain of religion, and while I support churches being able to decide not to perform same-sex marriage ceremonies (or, for that matter, deciding they want to be a part of the scene), I see no reason to disallow civil ceremonies just because a religious institution thinks it's a bad idea, especially based on rather flimsy reading of a book that not everyone chooses to believe in. And if anyone pesters me for stating that said readings of the Bible are indeed flimsy, then I'll come back with some citations, but right now I'm going to bed.

2003-06-16T12:47:00.000-07:00

Registration is required, but this story about a female Muslim comedian from Britain is worth it, especially for the joke halfway down the first page. Tasteless, yet enormously funny.

2003-06-16T11:42:00.000-07:00

This is an amazingly detailed and scary account of how the American economy is being run into the ground. Of course, being American, it doesn't deal with what will happen to Canada. For instance, the key phrase in this story isn't "[t]he loonie again breached the 75-cent (U.S.) mark Monday" but rather "[a]s per usual, the larger story here was that the big dollar - i.e. not Canada's - was weakening across the board." There's a reason we're tied so closely to the US economy - it can't be helped when you lie next to an elephant, as Pierre Trudeau noted in not quite the same words - but that doesn't mean so many of our eggs should remain in that red white and blue basket. Unfortunately, the feds' idea of opening things up is to concentrate on the Free Trade Area of the Americas, which rather unsurprisingly has some people upset, and probably just means that we're more likely to all fall together. (Via Early Days of a Better Nation.) Update: Ken MacLeod sends along this improved link, which came to him from Patrick Nielsen Hayden.

2003-06-13T10:34:00.000-07:00

I remember some time ago reading about the Japanese girl who died searching for the lost treasure from the movie Fargo, and thinking it was just another typically painful stupidity. Turns out the facts were misrepresented. (Via Neil Gaiman.)

2003-06-10T21:12:00.000-07:00

Secret histories always give me thrills and chills, especially when they almost seem likely. Read about the Federal Vampire and Zombie Agency and the work they did to keep America safe. (Via Slacktivist.)

2003-06-10T16:16:00.000-07:00

Making the rounds on blogs right now is this great list of quotes about WMDs. The tap-dancing as we move forward in time is something to see.

2003-06-06T21:21:00.000-07:00

Saudi Arabia’s leading executioner Muhammad Saad Al-Beshi will behead up to seven people in a day. “It doesn’t matter to me: Two, four, 10 — As long as I’m doing God’s will, it doesn’t matter how many people I execute," [he said]. Yee. (Via Tom Tomorrow.)

2003-06-05T21:36:00.000-07:00

I'm a Radiohead fan, but I don't know if I'd go this far. (Via Altercation.)

2003-06-03T20:01:00.000-07:00

My sister and her family are visiting right now, and tonight we got a phone call from my parents. Dad had surgery on his nose a couple of weeks ago, and they removed a mass. Said mass turns out to be extraosseous plasmacytoma, which scores very few comprehensible hits via Google. It can lead to myeloma, however, which would not be good. He's been referred to the Cross Cancer Institute in Edmonton, and has been told there have only been something like 100 cases of this worldwide, of which his doctor has seen two.

One quote I found online says "Sometimes the proliferation of plasma cells is contained within a single tumor. This is known as a solitary plasmacytoma, which is an infrequent variant consisting of an isolated neoplastic mass of plasma cells in the bone or soft tissue. Extraosseous plasmacytoma is often cured by surgical removal alone. Osseous plasmacytoma typically progresses to multiple myeloma regardless of therapy; however, this may not occur for up to 20 years, in which time the more commonly older patient may have contracted a more harmful condition (heart disease, diabetes, etc.)."

Sigh.

2003-06-03T10:35:00.000-07:00

Because such moral idiocy must be advertised as widely as possible, I direct your attention to the second letter to the editor on this page. Mr. Hancock is on the Board of Torcon 3, which is where the offending issue was sent; not to him personally. If you wish to see the cover, drop on over to here. It's a dandy by Frank Wu, a finalist for the Hugo for Best Fan Artist.

The complaint, of course, is about smoking. I won't be reprinting anything from private correspondence I had with Mr. Hancock, but suffice it to say he has very strong feelings on the matter, and his response to me was enough to make me realize that any further letters on my part would be futile.

This is not censorship, of course, since that term implies government action. It is a form of screening, however, and I wonder at how the decision can be made to keep it from reaching other members of the Board. Is the next step taking them off the shelves whenever you see them? Or perhaps taking out an ad denouncing our actions as editors and Frank's as the artist.

I used to think that it had become politically correct to say that you weren't politically correct; the world was lousy with folks who wore their "incorrectness" like a badge of honour, and that drove me nuts. But I veer over to their side of the divide with this one. I am not a smoker, and I prefer to be in places where people are not smoking. But I'm not about to cram my side down anyone's throat, unless of course they try to do the same to me. And hell, what an "evil fairy godmother" is going to do to encourage smoking is quite beyond me, especially in a magazine that is not, shall we say, read far and wide.

I'm hoping that at Torcon a few of us can wear fairy wings and carry stogies, at least while working the On Spec table. The only point it will make is that I am childish and bitter, I know, but the pictures ought to be good.

2003-06-02T11:30:00.000-07:00

My friend Don sent me a link to possibly the greatest relationship ever. I haven't laughed so hard in a long, long time. Also, sign up for the mailing list; the email you get is also damned funny.

2003-05-28T17:19:00.000-07:00

Off to Harrison Hot Springs tomorrow morning, where Jo attends BCLA and I relax sans children (they're here in PG, with the in-laws). Back late on Sunday. Tonight I coach Aidan's soccer game and then rush over to play my own, so my dance card is officially full. No blogging is my suspicion.

2003-05-28T16:03:00.000-07:00

For all my cat-loving friends everywhere, a special song.

2003-05-28T09:10:00.000-07:00

NASA is trying to decide whether or not their astronauts should phone home if they know they aren't going to make it (note: this site may require a very minor registration, but no names or addresses). It's a question I addressed in my story "Last Call", available here for a micropayment. I would hope that such a call would be allowed, difficult for family and astronaut as it would be. I know I'd rather be able to say goodbye.

2003-05-26T09:21:00.000-07:00

Rabbit fur, snow, the disaster on Everest, and an auction. Read all about it here.

2003-05-24T22:16:00.000-07:00

I have no idea how to do permalinks, so there is no pointer to it, but somewhere around here I had written about the Hugos, and had also made mention of the Auroras, Canada's version, which I called a "glorified mini-golf trophy." I'm now here to tell you that this description may not be true; instead, I think of the Aurora as the favorite player award given by a bunch of beer-swilling mullet-heads on a slow pitch team (much like the Rattlers, a team I play on).

I'm torn between being a combination of politic and polite or being eviscerating, and for the moment the more sober me is winning out, although that could change in the near future. I direct your attention, first of all, to the list of finalists. I will admit that I have only read one novel on the list for Long Form English, and I think it should be the clear winner, hands down. While Karl Schroeder's Permanence was not, in my view, as strong as his novel Ventus, it was still a great read packed with ideas and adventure, and much of it was relevant to today. I have nothing bad to say about the other nominees, considering I haven't read these books, although I do find myself curious about the placement of a book that had extremely limited release. But perhaps (actually, likely) this comes about because of how few people participate in the nomination process.

More troubling to me are the Short Form English and English Other categories. You will note in the first that there is only one story from a well-known SF mag there, while three are from one anthology and the last from the editor of the anthology that included the other three. Let me state quite clearly that I don't believe the voting was rigged; again, I think this is largely the province of a system that gets very little participation. But I did watch in another forum as fans of this author's work were urged to nominate the works of writers from the anthology. On the face of it, a noble deed; attempting to get some recognition for the writers who came through for you is a nice thing to do. But the quality of other work out there, and in more accessible locations, too, would seem to negate the presence of almost every other voter.

Let me stress here that this is a fault partly of the system, but mostly of the voters themselves. If people can't be bothered to read and nominate, then the works they like don't make the list. A group voting for (or with) someone they like is not the problem, since they are actually taking part in the process.

Sadly, works by Cory Doctorow, A.M. Dellamonica and Holly Phillips, among others, get neglected. But then again, this is the award that ignored Neuromancer the year it won everywhere else, even Australia, so my surprise is limited.

Finally, and I won't flog it too much more, you'll note a similar pattern in the Other category, including the second year in a row that a toy-selling cartoon has been nominated. Hell, if you look at last year's list you'll see that it won. You'll also detect the start of this very pattern I'm noting.

This is not sour grapes. I'm proud of the three stories I published last year, but all three were in relatively obscure (although decent-paying) publications. I let people see them if they wanted to, but my flogging days are over. Plus, I firmly believe that the three people I mentioned two paragraphs up all wrote better stories than me last year. The award is a joke, and it has been for years. Certainly the French-Canadians recognize this, as witnessed by their nominating and voting patterns (scroll to the bottom of last year's page to see how many people bothered).

It costs $5.00 to vote, if I recall correctly. This year, I will be taking that money (and probably a little more) and donating it to the Sunburst Award. This one at least offers some money to the (usually poor) writer who wins, and is emphatically not a popularity contest.

2003-05-24T08:15:00.000-07:00

Head here and click on "Bush vs. Bush" to watch the debate of the year.

2003-05-23T22:42:00.000-07:00

Zoë update

Well, my math skills and memory both failed me. Turns out that Zoë is 19, which means I was off by 2 years. I'm somewhat stunned.

I'm not yet sure of what went down, but she did receive her birthday package, but it seems that her father did not pass on my address. However, she phoned my father (Mom's in Nova Scotia right now, and will be quite disappointed she missed the call) and got my address, so apparently I can expect a letter.

She's in the local community college, taking Art, but beyond that I know nothing; I think Dad may have been at a bit of a loss for words, and he tells me the conversation felt a tad superficial. But what do you say to a step-grandchild you haven't heard from for over a decade?

I'm even more nervous now as I await her letter.

2003-05-23T09:39:00.000-07:00

What is... The Republican Matrix?

2003-05-22T22:18:00.000-07:00

"Like all fads, corporate governance has its zealots," he said. I am so happy that Conrad Black's grip on the Canadian media is pretty much extinct. Here's hoping the bastard goes down in flames.

2003-05-22T21:09:00.000-07:00

From today's paper (a biweekly called The Free Press), two ads:

Under Daycare, "Spring baby goats due on June 8, minutes from town. ECC, first aid, good beginnings course, experienced. Shiftworkers, babies welcome. Call for more info."

Also one for a Greek restaurant that brags about their excellent "Homos."

2003-05-22T21:03:00.000-07:00

Here's the first-ever picture of Earth from Mars.

2003-05-21T09:11:00.000-07:00

Some news about the new M. Night Shyamalan movie. Yowza.

2003-05-16T12:49:00.000-07:00

This makes me hungry for all the good eats when I get to Great Britain. Be sure to click on the Family and Fanatics links. What's most amazing, this isn't a joke; it's all terribly real.

2003-05-15T22:25:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling some splendid relief today. One of the courses I took this past semester was English 499, which is an independent study course; I was the only student, and I met once every couple of weeks with the head of the department, all leading towards one big paper, rather than a small paper and an exam or two. I had the paper deferred, as life compounded by the boys taking turns being sick put me way behind. Stan, the prof, was fine with that, largely because his wife had a baby right around the same time.

But today he emailed that I can pick things up tomorrow, so I went to the UNBC site and checked the online transcripts, in case my mark was in the system. And it was. "Interstellar Conflict Across Time: Military and Structural Similarities and Differences Throughout the History of Space Opera" got an A!

I've been watching the time drag on and pretty consistently expecting a B. This was a bitch to write, 24 pages plus two more for my sources, which in fiction isn't that much of a hit, but damn, it was hard here. Especially since I was refining right up until the bitter end, changing plans mid-stream several times.

For any who are interested, my three primary texts were Doc Smith's Gray Lensman, Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game (not strictly space opera, I know, but if you squint just right, it qualifies), and Excession by Iain M. Banks.

2003-05-14T14:09:00.000-07:00

Continuing to harp on the environment, a look here shows that a the oceans are running out of big fish. Unsurprisingly, industry sources dispute this, as seen in the article. With Canada closing the cod fishery, other involved people are fighting back. It's tough to see a way of life disappear, and I can understand the frustration of the fishermen, but I don't understand tenacity that would allow them to fish themselves and their children and grandchildren out of a career.

Audobon's Living Oceans has a great series of wallet cards you can print off to keep track of what's safe to eat and what isn't because, let's face it, the cod and other fish aren't facing extinction because of overzealous fishermen, but rather because of rapacious consumers like you and me. I first saw one of these cards at a restaurant when Peter Watts checked to make sure what he could eat safely; they should be required reading fr all who enjoy seafood.

2003-05-14T11:17:00.000-07:00

Apparently it sometimes is possible to let a conservative government know that you are unhappy. All it takes is an economic threat. This show is an enormous boost to the Salt Lake economy, and it's about time someone called the Utah government on their continued assault on enviromental politics (here's a good place to see some of the ongoing battles, which also often involve the BLM).

2003-05-09T14:03:00.000-07:00

In further questioning the patient, she stated that she had been pregnant about three years ago and everything seemed to be going fine, but "the baby never came out." Be sure to click on the pictures. (Via Die Puny Humans.)

2003-05-09T11:50:00.000-07:00

Generate a complaint letter. I was going to post what it said about my wife, but I see it changes eaxh time, even with the same link. Hmm. I wonder if Jo will see "But eventually, she will depressurize the frail vessel of human hopes" or maybe "Not a lie of statistical or grammatical error, but a ludicrous falsehood at once so absurd as to strike the reader as an insult to human intelligence, and yet so misguided as to convince the reader that the surest way for Ms. JoAnn F. Murphy's helots to succeed is for them to dump effluent into creeks, lakes, streams, and rivers", or perhaps "A final word: Ms. JoAnn F. Murphy is talking out of her posterior."

2003-05-08T23:31:00.000-07:00

The best movie I've seen in years, I've come to believe after ruminating upon buying and viewing the DVD, is Spirited Away. If you want to know why, the best answer can be found here.

2003-05-08T13:23:00.000-07:00

You'll need Quicktime for this little piece of furniture porn. It's brilliant. (Via Dave Barry's blog.)

2003-05-07T23:09:00.000-07:00

While I have yet to receive it, here's an email that has started to make the rounds:

Greetings,

We need a vender who can offer immediate supply. I'm offering $5,000. US dollars just for referring a vender which is (Actually RELIABLE in providing the below equipment) Contact details of vender required, including name and phone #. If they turn out to be reliable in supplying the below equipment I'll immediately pay you $5,000. We prefer to work with vender in the Boston/New York area.

1. The mind warper generation 4 Dimensional Warp Generator # 52 4350a series wrist watch with z60 or better memory adapter. If in stock the AMD Dimensional Warp Generator module containing the GRC79 induction motor, two I80200 warp stabilizers, 256GB of SRAM, and two Analog Devices isolinear modules, This unit also has a menu driven GUI accessible on the front panel XID display. All in 1 units would be great if reliable models are available

2. The special 23200 or Acme 5X24 series time transducing capacitor with built in temporal displacement. Needed with complete
jumper/auxiliary system

3. A reliable crystal Ionizor with unlimited memory backup.

If your vender turns out to be reliable, I owe you $5,000.

Email his details to me at: (THIS PART DELETED, FOR OBVIOUS REASONS)
Please do not reply directly back to this email as it will only be bounced back to you.
vjjqdjppp wizq shyjgmgj wjq ooofgh tkhuip r mmhte fy ce qkfdyak tfpga

"Temporal displacement" = time travel, of course. Looking around finds plenty of places showing people who believe that it's possible, even selling crap and running sweepstakes. Of course, it's also been a staple of science fiction, a pool I've dipped into.

2003-05-07T15:59:00.000-07:00

A theory about why we may not be picking up alien transmissions, no matter how hard we try. Seems to me there's a story in here somewhere.

2003-05-05T17:25:00.000-07:00

Wow, what a wonderful and relaxing waste of time.

2003-05-05T11:45:00.000-07:00

Here's an online version of the contents page for Open Space. Not only do I get the anchor story, mine has the longest title. We take our prideful moments where we can get them some days.

2003-05-02T12:58:00.000-07:00

Remember the scene in the original First Blood when Rambo stitches his arm after being wounded? I recall flinching during that scene, imagining how tough someone would have to be. Well, I'm now here to tell you that Rambo was a wimp.

2003-05-01T19:04:00.000-07:00

"I don't think we're aligning ourselves with countries who have bad records on human rights", says an American delegate talking about why they voted with Iran, Pakistan, Sudan, Libya and others on the subject of women's rights. Axis of Evil, indeed.

2003-04-30T16:20:00.000-07:00

Zoë Mackie was 3 when I first met her, a beautiful little girl with straight black hair, a wonderful smile, and already the signs that her legs would be long, long, long. She was a ball of fire, quick of temper, loads of fun, difficult to handle, warm and precious and caring. All the things you'd expect of a little girl. I was, to put it in a not-quite-true fashion, Zoë's third father. Carole, my first wife, and Norman, her first husband, had adopted Zoë when she was an infant.

But the marriage didn't last, and one day I took a temporary job running an adventure daycamp for the city, and we were blowing off steam at the playground before the parents came to get their kids, and Zoë had an accident, fell and hurt her back. I called an ambulance and the rest, as they say, is history. Carole and I were married the following year, and the less said about the state of that relationship, the better. Everything about it was a mistake, for both of us, and I need not dredge up old crap.

Did I say everything? There was Zoë, and she was not a mistake. I was glad she was still in my life, and a few months after the split she came with me on a trip to visit family in Nova Scotia. The trip went well, aside from the usual hassles of dealing with a child who was now 6, and I have memories from then I shall cherish until the day I die.

Shortly after coming back, though, Carole decided I couldn't see Zoë any longer. I tried to fight it, even went back to my lawyer, but ran into dead ends everywhere. Again, I needn't trouble anyone with residual bitterness and long forays into the details. Just let it be said that I lost, was not allowed to contact her anymore (this was no court order, mind, just a decision of the parent), and for a month or more I essentially lived in a fetal position. I saw her only one time after that, when I was at a movie theatre with a friend, and when I tried to say hi to Zoë, it took her a second or two to recognize me (I had completely changed my look, as I am wont to do), and before she could say much beyond a hello, Carole put her hand to her daughter's back and steered her away.

Fast forward through a number of years of happiness, thanks to Jo and the boys. I still think about Zoë now and again, I have a file filled with little crafts she did for me, and a number of pictures of her (perhaps I'll scan and post one or two soon). Last night I dreamed about her, about how she would look as a young woman, and when I awoke I realized, assuming that my mental math is not pulling a fast one on me, that this May she will be 17. This stuns me. She is a young woman now, probably with a tight circle of friends, maybe a boyfriend, and perhaps she's even driving now. All the hallmarks of passing from childhood to adulthood, and all I can do is guess about the life she is leading.

Based on last night's dream, though, I'm going to attempt to do something about this. Norman, her father, is hopefully still of reasonable disposition towards me (I have reasons to believe this is true, although they are dated, since I haven't seen him for so many years). He's a provincial court judge, and I can contact him via mail to his office. So I have purchased a suitably non-threatening birthday card, and will enclose money and a note, and then put all that in a package addressed to Norman. He'll get my return address and phone number, not Zoë, just to be on the safe side. With luck, the package will get to her. With more luck, she will not only remember me (no guarantee there), she'll remember me in a favorable light (nope, no guarantee there, either).

Am I setting myself up for a fall? Possibly. I know I have my wonderful family here, and a wife who understands this situation, bless her, so if worst comes to worst, I'll have three extra pairs of hands to help me brush myself off. I'll update here, for better or for worse, when the time comes. Even if the only answer is silence.

2003-04-27T22:11:00.000-07:00

Geek heaven, via Boing Boing, it's One Pixel Per Meter.

2003-04-23T11:41:00.000-07:00

Continued from the post below this one:

I don't know what to say, though, or even if I should really care. I'm on the record elsewhere as referring to the Nebula Awards as a glorified bowling trophy, and even though I posted briefly about the Auroras, they are in comparison a glorified mini-golf trophy. The Hugos are maybe a bit better, since it's all fan-driven, but that does leave the process a little more open to wacky decisions (for instance, 2001, when Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire defeated, among others, Midnight Robber by Nalo Hopkinson). So maybe the Hugo is the SF world's equivalent of Car Salesperson of the Year.

I have no answers, of course. I wish there were a way for smaller publications to grab the readers by the lapels (or, to be more accurate, by the buttons) and convince them that it's worth their time and money to buy some of these magazines. One thing that might be worth thinking about (avoiding the awards issue now and concentrating wholly on the marketing side) is to band together, carry each other's magazines to local conventions, perhaps offer discounts through a central clearing house if you subscribe to, say, three separate mags, and pool money to buy a decent slot at major cons. We're already doing this last at WorldCon this year, sharing a table with Descant, a literary magazine which is releasing an SF issue at the con.

I do welcome thoughts on the matter, here or by email. And I hope that other people are paying attention to this. I mean, I do subscribe to Locus, but I am not at all sure what it is that justifies 16 out of a possible 19 awards, and why they don't just politely remove themselves from the running. It's embarrassing to think that someone could be that needy about a hunk of metal and wood.

2003-04-23T11:10:00.000-07:00

Here's the list of this year's nominees for the Hugo Awards. Where my attention has drifted this year is to the list of semi-prozine nominees, and in relation to that I'd like to direct your attention to the list of past winners. For those of you unfamiliar with the field, I'll note that Interzone is the only magazine that publishes fiction; the other two are news and review magazines. This year's list has the same appearance, with Interzone being the sole publication for fiction.

I wish to know if the semipro fiction magazines out there are really that bad, if the fiction they publish really doesn't work, or doesn't catch anyone's attention. I am of course speaking from a position of possible conflict of interest, of course, being one of the Fiction Editors for On Spec, which as a semipro mag would surely have qualified for this category, moreso because this year the ceremonies are being held in Canada. On Spec has been publishing continuously for over a decade now, well past 50 issues, a good-looking magazine that has received a decent amount of critical praise and attention, published some world-class authors and artists, and has been doing nothing but improving the quality of its fiction for all that time.
I'll be honest here; I did suggest to some folks in various locations that they consider nominating the magazine. The "glory" wouldn't have been mine, anyway, since Jena Snyder and Diane Walton do almost all the work.

But even barring one fine magazine, there are plenty of other fiction outlets kicking around that deserve the same sort of praise, and yet are constantly ignored, both at awards time and, frankly, at opening-the-wallet time. I think here of Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet, Aurealis, Say..., Talebones, and The Third Alternative, all magazines that are doing worthy things with fiction from writers of all stripes. And yet the list of nominees includes (mostly) publications that offer news and/or gossip. Even the one that could be considered as adding to the writer's craft is, at best, a gathering point for writers to brag about sales or newbies to read about markets or pitfalls in the biz. And then these writers move on out and submit their stories to the magazines that are later ignored.

More on the next rock. Damn Blogger doesn't like too many links in any post.

2003-04-22T22:45:00.000-07:00

Still planning a rant about the Hugos. It'll come soon. In the meantime, I have three stories that qualify for the Auroras, so if you're a Canadian and are interested in nominating but haven't read them yet (because you shouldn't nominate what you haven't read), email me.

2003-04-22T10:11:00.000-07:00

The paper is done. Including two pages of citations, Interstellar Conflict Across Time: Military and Structural Similarities and Differences Throughout the History of Space Opera clocks in at 26 pages. In a brief rush of blogging before I head off to hand it in and return books to libraries, let me point you to Terrorist Titties (via Tom Tomorrow), some ruminations on litterbugs, and a flying cat.

2003-04-20T08:58:00.000-07:00

Well, today I am 40. Jo and I went out for dinner last night, and imagine my surprise to find that in Prince George there is a restaurant called Da Moreno that some people (and not locals, either) consider to be the finest Italian restaurant in Canada. Apparently, the lead singer of Big Sugar thinks so, and whenever he plays in town almost always ends up being late for his gig because he's having an after-dinner coffee with Moreno himself.

We each started with a small slice of very garlicy Bruschetta, as well as a nice (and, as per usual in dining establishments, overpriced) glass of an Australian Shiraz, likely the best wine I've had in about two months. I have a good bottle sitting in the wine rack here, but I'm sitting on it for another year or two; the good stuff only comes out rarely. Then Jo had a salad with organic greens, goat cheese, apple slices, and a vinaigrette, while I had pan-seared scallops wrapped in prosciutto on caramelized brown sugar. Only three of them, which was just right, since it was very rich. For the main course, Jo had a spinach ravioli, and I also had ravioli, but filled with lobster meat and in a tomato and basil sauce. I'm drooling just writing about it. Chef Boy-Ar-Dee would have me for life if they could offer this one. Dessert was a tiramisu for Jo (very light, she pronounced, which is rare) and I had a chocolate torte with home-made ice cream and a raspberry coulis. Afterwards, we were full, but not over-stuffed, which was a pleasant sensation. The portions were just right, as were the tastes, of course.

This morning the boys did their Easter egg hunt, after wishing me a happy birthday, and then they borught me my present. Wow. A Palm Tungsten T with a keyboard and a travel charger kit. Jo was thinking ahead and knew it would be a pain for me to bring my laptop to Scotland. Now I have a few months to get used to this little machine to make sure I get the most out of it.

2003-04-19T08:10:00.000-07:00

Here we go. This looks to me like the legitimate contender for the X-Prize.

2003-04-18T15:25:00.000-07:00

Here's a transcript of the speech Tim Robbins gave to the National Press CLub the other day. (Via Memepool.)

2003-04-18T12:38:00.000-07:00

The moral? If you're going to drink copious amounts of alcohol (because, really, is there any other option?), then make sure you can tread water really well.

2003-04-18T09:23:00.000-07:00

In honour of Easter, here is a tale of obssession that is nonetheless monumentally cool, a church built out of Lego. (Via Boing Boing.)

2003-04-16T11:48:00.000-07:00

Here is the best piece yet about the ruin of Baghdad's history.

2003-04-16T08:35:00.000-07:00

In the "Why don't I just bend over for you?" department, take a look at this publishing contract from a joke of a writing contest being held by Fountainhead Productions, Inc. Note especially the section titled "Publishing and Rights Acquired".

Note to new or aspiring writers: it's bad enough to have to pay a fee (especially one as large as this) to enter, but it's much, much worse to give up all your rights to your work for all of eternity. I see that Mr. James G. Fennessy, Esq., 150A Morristown Road, Matawan, N.J. 07747; (732) 583-2211 is kind enough to list all of his personal details. If I have time, perhaps I'll soon call, just to say hi.

2003-04-12T08:59:00.000-07:00

In light of happenings in the Middle East, it only makes sense to check out Rapture Ready. Don't forget to click on "The Rapture Index" to see just how close to the End Times we apparently are. I'll also note that the site's creator believes that Russia is preparing to attack Israel.

2003-04-11T09:10:00.000-07:00

For anyone who watched the statue of Saddam get pulled down in the square in baghdad the other day, here's another look at it. (Via Tom Tomorrow.)

2003-04-11T08:54:00.000-07:00

A new way to look at the characters of The Wizard of Oz.

2003-04-07T17:43:00.000-07:00

A lot of people don't realize that rubber bullets can kill. I'd say that this woman got off lucky (photo via Boing Boing). Sometime someone should find out the justification for this event.

2003-04-07T14:24:00.000-07:00

Here's some good, solid advice for all writers out there.