Beach beach beach. Just a day trip, but Patty and I are excited.
In many ways I truly, deeply loathe the transitory nature of the Internet. Because one day a story is there, and then one day it's not.
Currently, Wimbeldon is host to the longest tennis match in history. Which sort of sucks for the guy with the job live-blogging it. But that's okay, he's writing about the zombies. (If you don't care about tennis the hilarity starts around 4:30pm).
It is now raining oil in Louisiana. Maybe. The problem if you Google around on this is that you have a bunch of people, all with agendas arguing about whether this can or can't happen or whether the video is adequately sources (what should people do? interview the fucking oil). Nearly everyone interested in the subject has an incentive to lie from BP to the government to anyone impacted by the oil spill. So maybe it's raining oil in Louisiana. Maybe it's not. But the idea that we're even having this conversation should be enough to terrify you.
I am in the process of organizing an LJ auction to benefit theotoky. If you know her and are willing to help mod it, please let me know.
Last night on Angel: "Apocalypse Nowish."
What I was perhaps most struck by was the degree to which you don't know what the end of the world is going to look like -- one minute, everything is fine; the next? fiery death is raining from the sky. Even in a world without demons, this is a true thing, isn't it? Fireworks are just gunpowder; and 9/11 was the most beautiful day of the year. I was incredibly moved and chilled by this. There's a lot going wrong structurally in Angel for me right now, but this truth was significant.
The Wesley/Fred/Gunn drama is both too overt and too unpleasant to watch, which I suppose means there is a certain realism in its execution, but I'm finding it grating on some level. Similarly Connor/Cordy is a situation I find revolting, although there's truth there too.
Best line delivery, ever: "My throat was slit, and my friends abandoned me."
What happened was a leadership spill - not enough of Rudd's MPs supported him for PM, and thus Gillard was voted in by said MPs. The public had no say in the matter.
This. My Kiwi flatmate felt obliged to point out that her "election" was more like Jenny Shipley's than Helen Clarke's (the latter being NZ's first elected female PM). (I don't know, I just started living down here...)
Much the first Canadian woman to be PM, then. The current PM retired as head of his party, and so the next to be elected as head of the Conservative Party got to be PM. Not womankind's proudest moment, exactly. But as I keep saying, bureaucracy has a power that in many ways supersedes the apparent power of elected officials, so maybe it's okay to call it a "real" election after all.
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azn_jack_fiend has an important post about taking kids to Avatar: The Last Airbender.
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What happened was a leadership spill - not enough of Rudd's MPs supported him for PM, and thus Gillard was voted in by said MPs. The public had no say in the matter.
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