I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through

Monday, January 2, 2012

Linkee-poo shovels the snow

It's not the first snowfall of the year. It's not even the first snowfall to stick. But it is the first snowfall I had to shovel (it wasn't deep enough to use the snow thrower, or at least half the driveway wasn't deep enough). Tomorrow it's back to work. We find out if anything changed over my absence. Joy and happy day.

On the plus side, no rejections yet.

Proof there are holiday decorations for everyone. (Grokked from Camille Alexa)

The joy of quiet. Or, why in the future we will pay out the nose for a little piece and quiet being off the grid. Or, the Amish are right. Much of this was prophesized by various writers, including the book Information Overload. (Grokked from Jay Lake)

Janeice shares some important insights about holding your own self accountable.

The name of my next band tumblr. (Grokked from John Scalzi)

"Myths are propagated and embellished according to how they appeal to the prejudices of those who hear them…" That article is on the myth of the bra burning feminist, but that line will probably be applicable to several news stories/press conferences/political rallies this year at a rate of at least 3 times per week. (Grokked from Jay Lake)

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