Just another morning

It starts with an Argentinian ant invasion. While I was waiting for the exterminator this morning, I received a phone call from another weblogger. Lovely voice. Witty conversation. Wonderful surprise.

Just as I’m hanging up the phone, the exterminator came and after I showed her where the little buggers were entering my home, I took off to let her do her thing.

Normally I walk along Crissy Fields in the evening, but today was too nice to stay inside. As I was walking along the beach I watched the pelicans fishing just offshore.

Pelicans are my favorite bird. They look as if they couldn’t fly more than a few feet, but I’ve seen them fly into gale force winds with barely a struggle. And their landing! They circle lower and lower, than a quick crashing dive bomb into the water, splashing water high into the air — absolutely no subtlety in their movements. Fearless.

Pelicans are almost completely indifferent to humanity. They’re neither overly impacted by nor all that dependent on us. For the most part, they just ignore us. They’re large enough to have few predators, and aggressive enough to ensure they get what they need to survive. A truly beautiful, arrogant bird.

So this morning I walked along the beach with the wind in my hair and the sun in my face, watching the pelicans exhibit their mastery over water and air — truly king over all they fly.


I didn’t know sharks got that big in the Bay…

Political Weblogging

And so much for journalism

Meryl Yourish and Glenn Reynolds responded to my email and article link yesterday.

So much for weblogging as journalism. And the truth shall set you free, right?


RageBoy…on the loose!

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Halley wrote that she’s a Chris Locke wannabe. I shudder at the innocence of such a request as she couldn’t possibly know the truth…

Due to an unfortunate chemical reaction between certain rare substances only found in Starbuck’s coffee sold in Colorado, and the residue of past _experimentation_, Chris was already in a dangerously febrile state. Add this to his close proximity to several large electrical towers, and it was only a matter of time before some catalytic agent served to disassociate the manic, mischievous RageBoy persona from the meeker, milder, professorial Chris Locke.

Then he met the 19 year old….

At this time RageBoy is wondering loose within the network, seeking homes on weblogs as the spirit, and router, moves him. Halley, run….run for you life….it may already be too l…..