Religious persecution quiz, scanged from a facebook/filking buddy. Who himself was reposting it.
Statins have much worse potential side effects than was previously believed.
Wretched excess meets explosive cuteness.
I’m not posting a link, but one of the church women posted a youtube link to her toddler doing the Hokey Pokey with her, and I just wanted to mention that that’s what it’s all about.
We live in a culture which has little use for our basic instincts, and is thus breeding / punishing their existence out of us as fast as it can. One can only wonder what the hell will take its place. These days I wonder how some people manage to feed themselves. As long as we are where our instincts don’t serve us, many of us will feel alienated. I think church is a kind of hamfisted way of addressing that alienation. I can’t help thinking that we’re a step away from ‘customized religious experiences’ and I’m not just talking about going to rural Peru to have a drunken shaman pour ayahuasca down your throat and then count his money while you trip endlessly into a brightly painted bucket of existential horror. I’m talking about thinking, “I want a religious experience that includes singing and labyrinth walking and drums this Sunday,” and if you live in a big town, actually being able to get it. Virtually, perhaps. but if we do not breathe together…. if we do not conspire….. what are we? That’s why we live from con to con, from dance to dance, from concert to concert, from gig to gig, from (please do NOT CLICK ON THIS LINK AT WORK or IF YOU THINK Lesbian or BDSM sexuality is icky) hookpull to hookpull, from Sunday to Sunday (or whatever your religiously mandated gathering day is). Re hookpulls, I personally know two people who have attended and participated in these events, and I like ’em fine, so if you want to remonstrate with me about how sick it is I’m just gonna make a sad face and change the subject. You wouldn’t catch me dead at one of them though, I ain’t going anywhere like that just to be a voyeur and I don’t need any additional pain in my body at the moment, thanks. My complete incomprehension does not include disgust.
Extra solar planets for the win. Every time I look at it, there’s more. Everything is on fast forward.
Of course, if I fail to mention the artificial life, people will wonder if I dropped off to sleep.
As I type this I am looking at the handwriting of my ancestor Henry Thomas Wake, and wishing I could have handwriting like that. Copperplate. He actually made money from designing lettering. mOm says he would be a blogger if he was alive today. He records in his diary, March 1859, that we went to Euston Square Station to determine the cheapest way to go visit Carlisle, and also that a friend has kindly lent him a book on double entry bookkeeping. (He was demoniac about self-improvement).
I’m going to take my chalky and somewhat premigraineous brain out for a drive now. I want a drum.