BurningbirdRecovered from the Wayback Machine.
I read with respect Sargeant Stryker’s eloquent and extremely well thought out discussion about Doc Searl’s comment killing does not justify killing (a misrepresentation of Hanan Cohen’s Death does not justify death).
I may not agree with Stryker’s analysis and interpretation, but I can respect the effort and the interest as well as the careful consideration he gave.
Recovered from the Wayback Machine.
I received a package with several different varieties of Tim Tams on Friday. I tried the praline ones and they are quite good, and very unique — I’ve not had anything like them here in the states. The chocolate coating is sweeter than most chocolate coatings used in this country, and the cookie had an unusual taste, almost as if it was made with a form of barley sugar. Crisp, too.
I’m glad I finally had a chance to try these. Thanks to the Australian delegation for sending me this gift.
Recovered from the Wayback Machine.
I am just not feeling hot today. And I am feeling hot today. I am in a funk and I’m funky.
Unlike Jonathon, I did not indulge in foods direct from the great salt lick; however, I want to indulge in visions of the Great Salt Lake.
I am sick, but I don’t want to stay at home cozied up in comfy blanket sipping hot cider. That was a Past Perfect moment. I want a Future Perfect Moment.
I want to get in Golden Girl and find sharp new leaf green, tangy ocean blue, and huckleberry purple. Breath deep of air six degrees removed from an exhaust pipe.
I want to find a moment when the sun hits the trees and colors the world late afternoon green-gold, before dipping into its next show of the day, early evening purple-red-blue.
I want to listen to seagulls quarrel and sparrows cheep and crows caw and jays screech, and to the sweet notes from song birds blended into shadows, unseen but gloriously heard.
I want to walk on dusty roads, and across water slick rocks, and over sandy beaches, leaving my footprints for all to see — for a moment. I want to watch weeds rustle with unseen creatures and proud elk silhouetted against wind blown cliff and shy crab scuttling away from predatory bird-like eyes.
I want to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and my face, and the chill of winds blowing across ice and snow and the sparkling clarity and black velvet closeness of a night lit by a thousand million billion stars.
I want to take pictures and bring them back and most likely bore you all, and quite possibly amuse you all, and perhaps send one or three of you away with thoughts of “Oh God, she’s out taking pictures again. Is this going to be followed by more feminist crap?”
And I want to share with you moments of magic that occur in my world if I just get away from wires and a keyboard and a flat screen and, well, all of you.
Monday is Earth Day. In celebration of our world. Our home. All of our home. I don’t care where you are, where you live, I will, eventually, inhale the air you exhale.
By the way, did you have garlic for dinner?
Interesting. Dave has dropped the Google box from Scripting News, and Edd Dumbill from O’Reilly Network has come out with a short, sweet, succinct response to the Google API:
The frenzy over Google’s new SOAP API is just plain silly.
Hmmm. This sounds familiar. I wonder where I’ve heard something like this before?
Techie Woman rules.
The photo above is from the Muir Beach Lookout on the California coast north of San Francisco.
