We are the miracle of force and matter making itself over into imagination and will. Incredible. The Life Force experimenting with forms. You for one. Me for another. The Universe has shouted itself alive. We are one of the shouts.

Ray Bradbury

We Will Party No More, Forever

You’ve surely heard the story by now: freshly flush with billions of taxpayer dollars1 AIG big shots treated themselves to a little executive-class R & R — a soiree, I presume, to take their minds off their troubles — and ran up a tab of more...

It’s All Over But the Voting

If you watched the “town-hall” version of the presidential debates last night, you saw the next President of the United States, and a tired old man trying gamely to keep up with him. While there was nothing especially new introduced into the contest...

Heckling Goes High Tech

Confronted by a candidate who refuses questions from voters and the media alike, Democrats take their queries to new heights with a high-tech heckling system [via Gizmodo] — At a Sarah Palin rally in LA on Saturday, the California Democratic party rented a...

Groupthink by Any Other Name

I’ll admit it: the usability geek in me is smitten with the coolest doodad of the political season, CNN’s live dial-testing of a focus group during the debates. There it is in real-time — the collective response of a group of undecided and presumably...

In so many words…

Giuliani: A noun, a verb and Nine-Eleven. McCain: A noun, a verb and P.O.W. Palin: A noun, a verb, a pause… an exclamation, an adverb, a folksy gesture and a blank stare. Update: Slate bravely goes where most grammarians fear to tread, tackling the task of...

A Schism at the Church of Wall Street

I’m not an economist. And, despite all evidence to the contrary – my mailbox stuffed with offers of shiny new credit cards and cutthroat rates for refinancing my home, the glossy ads in the newspaper begging me to buy a shiny HDTV today and wait two years to pay for...

Solsticity

If Autumn weren’t so lovely, we’d complain bitterly about her theft of Summer’s golden days. Her touch is, however, so subtle… and besides, she brings such an endearing dowry — jewel-ripe, gold and ruby apples; crimson sugar maples, drunk...

Passages: Paul Newman, 1925-2008

Film legend, race-car driver, popcorn impresario. Activist, philanthropist, and all around lucky guy. Paul Newman died Friday. I mention this because — as much as I’m a fan of his work on screen — I’m downright grateful that he leant his name...

I’m Not Looking at You

So… one debate down and right now — right this very moment — hundreds of thousands of folk are furiously typing millions of words on why their guy won. Me, I’d just like to make a single observation of one thing that struck me as extremely...

Inconstant as a November Sky

It’s fascinating the things folks search for… and confounding. There are search phrases in Bloggle’s referrer logs that are truly head-scratchers: cyphers, bits of blank verse, and the odd, indelicate phrase that could make Bob Saget blush. Then...

It All Adds Up in the End

Some quick, back of the envelope calculations… Since making the switch to a scooter for my daily commute I’ve ridden about 1000 miles in the last month, despite record rainfall in Vermont this summer. (grumble) Along the way I gobbled up 37 fewer gallons...

Spammy Story: Weird Tales Loser

Weird Tales magazine recently hosted a spiffy flash fiction contest. The challenge: write a piece of fewer than 500 words based on a SPAM email. Well, gosh. I have a host of collected SPAM to choose from — some of them artful in their painful obfuscation and...

China’s Awe-inspiring Coming Out Party

Congratulations to China, who — despite predictions of epic failure, and regardless of what may happen in the coming days (from heavy smog to heavy-handed tactics with the press) — just schooled the entire world in how to stage an epic spectacle with the...

The Grand Experiment is Begun

I have moved my writing nook — at the risk of expending nearly all my some-assembly-required-fu — to the north of the house, where, fueled by the electric treacle fingers of the aurora borealis, I hope to reach altogether new heights of participular...

Various and Sundry

It was only a matter of time before Rupert Murdoch’s poisoned hand of glory made itself manifest on the pages of the Wall Street Journal. I shouldn’t have imagined, however,  it would appear so blatantly, so soon. Talking Squid takes ’em on in a blog...

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