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I'm thumbing through LJ's new User Agreement and all I can think is, "What new devilry is this...?" LJ, you and I may have reached the end of the road with each other.
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Does anyone know why Clarke never sold more stories to Campbell and Astounding? Particularly given that Clarke started writing fiction professionally post-WWII, with Heinlein having moved on to better things, it seems like Clarke would have been tailor-made for Campbell's needs.
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"A New York judge has granted three people who had previously been in a polyamorous relationship “tri-custody” of their 10-year-old son. The New York Post reports that the Suffolk County Supreme Court Judge H. Patrick Leis III’s ruling is the first of its kind in the state."
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I'll be damned: it was on this date, fifteen years ago, that I first walked down the steps at Rose's Turn, thereby changing my life and social circle quite radically. Those who are still in my life, and those who have left in one fashion or another- thank you, all of you.
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What are your ten favorite SF novels? (As Jack Wranovics can tell you, I often have problems with "favorrite" lists; I'm using it here to mean "made a strong initial impression on you; hasn't been egregiously crapped on by age's changed perspective," My own listL 1) Frankenstein 2) War of the Worlds 3) Hitchhiker's 4) Nova 5) Dying Inside 6) Dream Park 7) We Who Are About To... 8) More Than Human 9) 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea 10) Dragon's Egg
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Just heard an unsubstantiated rumor that Bill Maher used to date Ann Coulter; I'm pretty sure that hearing this is what made Bob Geldof shave off his eyebrows in Pink Floyd: the Wall.
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If you squint a bit, Oakland's Frank H. Ogawa Plaza looks quite a bit like New York City's Union Square, a pleasant memory of protest days gone by (although Dubya looks like the Messiah next to this toadstool in a suit). People laughing, and chanting, and carrying signs such as MINE GRABS BACK and MAKE AMERICA THINK AGAIN (one read HE TREATS OBJECTS LIKE PEOPLE, making me wonder if the artist was a Lebowski fan). I ran out of spoons quickly, but it was nice to reacquaint myself with an echo of that old angry energy, and to remember that (as more than one sign had it) we will not go gentle into that good night.
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Trying to find a movie to watch for Inauguration Day; Parallax View, Manchurian Candidate, and Taxi Driver are all looking good.
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Apparently, Trump is hiring a Springsteen cover band for the inauguration (since the Boss, need it be said, wanted no part of this); I'm hoping they open with Roulette."
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The real question: who's sending Marty McFly's kid back in a Delorean to keep Donald Trump's dad from knocking out Biff Tannen's?
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The real question: who's sending Marty McFly's kid back in a Delorean to keep Donald Trump's dad from knocking out Biff Tannen's?
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I've been thinking a lot as the year turns of Tony Kushner's epic theatrical work Angels in America. Prior Walter, battling ill health as his lover abandons him; encountering angels; wishing for more life, even as his future remains far from certain; ending his epic struggle with the words "The great work begins." I strongly suspect the next years will be that same sort of epic struggle, that forces us to call upon everything that we have; to surpass what we think we can endure; to will our own responses to forces beyond our imagination. I remember, a long time ago, talking with a friend about another difficult time, and saying "Don't think of the destruction- think of how people responded to it." Yes, there was venality; xenophobia; every time of anger and hatred- but there was also love and courage, that beggared the imagination. To you all, as we enter new times, I wish that sort of love and courage- the sort that guides us through the darkness, and demands of us that we surpass ourselves.
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I've been thinking a lot as the year turns of Tony Kushner's epic theatrical work Angels in America. Prior Walter, battling ill health as his lover abandons him; encountering angels; wishing for more life, even as his future remains far from certain; ending his epic struggle with the words "The great work begins." I strongly suspect the next years will be that same sort of epic struggle, that forces us to call upon everything that we have; to surpass what we think we can endure; to will our own responses to forces beyond our imagination. I remember, a long time ago, talking with a friend about another difficult time, and saying "Don't think of the destruction- think of how people responded to it." Yes, there was venality; xenophobia; every time of anger and hatred- but there was also love and courage, that beggared the imagination. To you all, as we enter new times, I wish that sort of love and courage- the sort that guides us through the darkness, and demands of us that we surpass ourselves.
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Addendum to the scary pit bulls post: Feeling much better today; met another pit bull the next day, who was perfectly wonderful and friendly :)
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Addendum to the scary pit bulls post: Feeling much better today; met another pit bull the next day, who was perfectly wonderful and friendly :)
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On my way to visit a friend in Berkeley; I see a man walking three dogs. To be cautious (Oakland dogs are notoriously hostile), I step off the curb and around the truck, giving the dogs a wide berth. "Are they friendly?" I ask the owner. "It's fine, they're friendly," he replies. I keep walking down the middle of the street... and suddenly have THREE SNARLING DOGS CHARGING ME, at least one of which was a pit bull. I manage to shout (hurting my throat in the process) and intimidate the dogs enough to stand them off until he grabs their collars, and angrily tell him that the next time he lets this happen, I'll call the police, Mace the dogs, or both. A brief shouting match ensues; I get back far enough to be out of range- and, as he turns to leave, discover that my cheap piece of shit phone was dead anyway. UGH. One the way home, I see a car with the license plate WIG WAG (the name of our dog when I was a toddler), which makes me nostalgic for the days when dogs weren't aggressive neurotic assholes with staggeringly irresponsible owners.
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On my way to visit a friend in Berkeley; I see a man walking three dogs. To be cautious (Oakland dogs are notoriously hostile), I step off the curb and around the truck, giving the dogs a wide berth. "Are they friendly?" I ask the owner. "It's fine, they're friendly," he replies. I keep walking down the middle of the street... and suddenly have THREE SNARLING DOGS CHARGING ME, at least one of which was a pit bull. I manage to shout (hurting my throat in the process) and intimidate the dogs enough to stand them off until he grabs their collars, and angrily tell him that the next time he lets this happen, I'll call the police, Mace the dogs, or both. A brief shouting match ensues; I get back far enough to be out of range- and, as he turns to leave, discover that my cheap piece of shit phone was dead anyway. UGH. One the way home, I see a car with the license plate WIG WAG (the name of our dog when I was a toddler), which makes me nostalgic for the days when dogs weren't aggressive neurotic assholes with staggeringly irresponsible owners.
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