ewa really liked it. I on the other hand, was left annoyingly unmoved. Every bit as visually lovely as the trailers make out, but it never quite came together emotionally for me.
Tag: fragment
Via, X, Via Y, we get Z
Specifically, via cairmen, we find Bruce Sterling’s list of quotes from IDEA2006.
I feel this quote (which I assume is talking about Second Life, or similar) more or less sums up the modern world:
“People will run across a battlefield to spray a DJ’s name on a tank.”
Department of the blindingly obvious:
The new Tom Waits triple album really is that bloody good.
Happy Birthday, Andrew!
I usually don’t bother cluttering up people’s friendspage’s with birthday wishes for people they don’t know. I figure my friends probably know I wish them all the best, or they will when I wish them happy birthday in person. But anw turns 30 today, and y’know, I think that’s worth making an exception for.
Happy birthday, mate. May your 30s be everything you could want them to be.
The rest of you: Go wish my friend a happy birthday, because he deserves it.
Well, perhaps a horrified stare…
Via imomus, via the NYT, I present the following without comment:
Away
Leaving soon. See a few of you later, and the rest of you when I get back.
Advice for children:
Measure your favourite chocolate bars now. That way, when you grow up, you’ll know if they’ve really gotten smaller or not.
Anyone got any other similarly useful tips?
[Clubbing] Something a bit different:
Outlaw, the Alabama 3’s club night is on on Friday night, 10pm ’til 6am, in Brixton. Anyone up for a combination of gig and club night, a little bit country, a little bit techno?
Friday night.
Home alone. Bored. I really should do some bloody work, but I don’t want to. Someone do something amusing, please.
Entry
And winning today’s “Spectacular Cleverness” award:
I was sitting here working, when I was overcome by a sneezing fit/dust reaction. So, I thought I’d go out for a walk, blow the cobwebs away, and generally refresh myself.
I stepped out the back door, heard it shut behind me, and then realised it was raining. Pissing it down, in fact. Bugger, I thought, mentally cancelling my walk, and reaching for my keys to go back inside, then realising with terrible clarity exactly where I’d left my keys – on top of a speaker in my bedroom.
Mercifully, Andrew arrived home about twenty minutes later, so I got only slightly soaked.
The moral of the story? There is no moral. But I should always keep my keys on me.