Sorry to flake out like this, but I’m not going to be able to get anything else up this week—not even comments! I’m drowning over here. Learning about how to understand vision as a quantum wave rather an electrical-impulse conduction event, and what factors and tests influence and assess the strength of different yarns, and what fourth-graders in Georgia are expected to know about Mary McLeod Bethune, and what the Bhagavadgita has to say about duty; but not getting any blogging or even blog-reading time. Gah.
You and me both, Jeff. But I was going to quietly hide and hope nobody noticed. I’m going to catch up this weekend. Life simply must stop getting in the way of reading postmodern novels and blogging cynically about them.
Infinite Zombies 
I hear there’s a Samuel L. Jackson film adaptation in the works. “I’m tired of all these motherfuckin’ octopodes on this motherfuckin’ beach!”
Oh, good show. If this were a different kind of place, I’d post the greatest applause I know. (“Octopodes,” no less!)
It’s time for me to go write the greatest 21st century novel about people who train octopuses to attack people on beaches.
Sorry to flake out like this, but I’m not going to be able to get anything else up this week—not even comments! I’m drowning over here. Learning about how to understand vision as a quantum wave rather an electrical-impulse conduction event, and what factors and tests influence and assess the strength of different yarns, and what fourth-graders in Georgia are expected to know about Mary McLeod Bethune, and what the Bhagavadgita has to say about duty; but not getting any blogging or even blog-reading time. Gah.
You and me both, Jeff. But I was going to quietly hide and hope nobody noticed. I’m going to catch up this weekend. Life simply must stop getting in the way of reading postmodern novels and blogging cynically about them.
Remember, Jeff, All is maya.