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Though we share this humble path, alone
How fragile is the heart
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly
To touch the face of the stars

Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We'll rise above these earthly cares

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me


Monday, June 6, 2011

Linkee-poo is out of the swing, again

The Naipaul test. Can you tell which authors are which sex just by their writing? (Grokked from Mer Haskell and Cat Rambo)

Kyle Cassidy on the continuing idiocy surrounding actual knowledge of genres. In this case responding to a WSJ commentary about how YA is all about vampires, suicide, and self-mutilation. Yes, I'm sure it's true, and Romance is only about the pulsing and throbbing, SF about laser guns, and Fantasy about white knights and damsels. (Grooked form Tobias Buckell and Steven Gould)

You know, running bogus candidates on the opposition's ticket is still against the law. Remember in the 2010 elections when a number of Democratic Party members both resigned and some of them came up for criminal complaints because of that? I also seem to remember the righteous hauteur some conservatives had over that. If you read that last paragraph, you can just substitute the phrase, "For the righteous, all things are pure." (pointed to by Dan)

Cool video of Endeavour docked with the ISS taken from a ground based camera. KEWL! (pointed to by Dan)

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