|Monday, December 5th, 2011|
Not going to update either, but not dead.
|Friday, November 5th, 2010|
Asher Meese found himself wishing for not the first time that he'd retained the ability to spit. He eyed the muddy road scrolling past beneath the rickshaw and sucked at his teeth impotently. No salivary glands. Lucky enough to have lips, he thought, glancing towards the oriental man hauling him with unnatural swiftness through the late morning fog. The reinforced quadriceps and after-market pelvis were surer markers of caste than the runner's few remaining facial features and he was silently grateful that his position eliminated the possibility of eye contact. He loathed the camaraderie of those who took to it by choice; Dying in debt had, for him, been a rather unwelcome shock. His former lienholder had purchased his services from the magister corpus before his limbs had even stiffened, officiating him back into existence as a debt-bound reanimate without court or council. Meese scowled at the recollection. The costs of regular chirurgery had rendered any thoughts of dissent moot. Even the new job carried better odds than desertion, as his case worker had taken ample opportunity to remind him. The fog persisted. It had been over a century since Victor and his Prometheus had been granted joint asylum, their science consumed desperately and without forethought by a fear-mad England. Victor had brought the knowledge of how to call back and bind the very soul - if one were quick enough - with nothing more than scavenged flesh and high voltage. The seminal angst of man had been answered with unambiguous science, but questions still remained. His task now was in service to these, and as damnably unavoidable. The glare-tipped silhouette of the monolith on approach reminded him. God had thus far remained silent on the topic of mankind's transgressions, and Parliament's adolescent craving for approval (or rebuke) could no longer, so they said, be ignored. An answer was needed. The fins of the rocket were visible now beneath the brass of the unshielded cockpit at its tip. Asher Meese worked his jaw, nervously. He was certain the void would not squander its second chance.
|Monday, August 2nd, 2010|
|Get a goddamn cat.
Check this fuzzy little kitten out, how badass is this?
You know you want this fluffy motherfucker taking up room in your house and or apartment, I guarantee you if you're expecting a cat when you agree to this shit you will not be disappointed because exactly one (1) cat is what you will receive. It's an adventure in cat ownership just waiting to happen, suck it up and claim this kitten right goddamn now.
|Wednesday, December 23rd, 2009|
Hrrgh. Feeling very lethargic and cornered by memories. Been sub-sentient for awhile, just milling around, convincing pattern recognition and response systems but no real idea of self. If I were just more aware it'd be fine and enviable but I'm not. Adrienne thinks it might be that I haven't had natural sunlight hitting my skin in many weeks. She could be right. I'm not dead. Just without any sense.
|Friday, November 20th, 2009|
|Friday, October 30th, 2009|
I was up at three this morning bailing out my garage with a two gallon bucket. The water was about seven inches deep, deep enough to flow in through the back landing and down into my basement. I bailed out my entire garage with a two gallon bucket. An hour and a half of frantically shoveling water out my back door so that my half collapsed sewer pipe could keep pace with the diminished deluge flowing down into my laundry room.
2.75 inches between two and three this morning, and me at the bottom of a hill. My sump pumps never stood a chance.
|Friday, September 25th, 2009|
|Thursday, September 17th, 2009|
I have a house that I live in and it's more or less done. Except for the basement. And cleaning. And the yard and garden and fence and that window in the bathroom and caulk around the shower and maybe a porch rail. But it's close enough. Current Mood: exhausted
|Monday, June 8th, 2009|
|Stealing this from anonymous internet poster, maybe quote from somewhere else. Succinct.
"When is it a human life?" is debated instead of the more relevant question, "Does anyone have the right to use the body of another against their will?"
The answer to that is simple, obvious, and has huge legal precedence. We don't even take organs from corpses to save the lives of people who need donations unless they gave us permission to do so while alive. Let that sink in. A person's right to their own body is so respected that we observe it even after death and even if honoring it will cause a person to die. A confirmed person. I'm not talking a hypothetical maybe person here. Current Mood: Drugged
|Friday, May 29th, 2009|
|Monday, April 20th, 2009|
|Political Avatar Test.
On Dec. 21, 2005, in the midst of a firestorm of criticism about the wiretaps, Harman issued a statement defending the operation and slamming the Times, saying, “I believe it essential to U.S. national security, and that its disclosure has damaged critical intelligence capabilities.”
Pelosi and Hastert never did get the briefing.
And thanks to grateful Bush administration officials, the investigation of Harman was effectively dead.
Many people want to keep it that way.http://www.cqpolitics.com/wmspage.cfm?docID=hsnews-000003098436&cpage=3
|Thursday, April 16th, 2009|
Educated guess at redacted portion: "Note that if you accept in good faith an insect described to you as "non-stinging" for use in this technique your intent cannot be judged as harmful, even if the insect in question is of a stinging variety."
|Friday, February 20th, 2009|
|Wednesday, January 28th, 2009|
|Friday, November 7th, 2008|
|Wednesday, November 5th, 2008|
|Wednesday, June 4th, 2008|
|Thursday, May 29th, 2008|
|Sunday, February 10th, 2008|
|Monday, December 17th, 2007|