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Imported From Epistula MotW

MotW – Pirates

Music: The pirates who don’t do anything

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Current Affairs Imported From Epistula

Godwination

[On abortion] The head of the Catholic Church in England and Wales wrote: “That way lies eugenics, and we know from German history where that leads.” [BBC News]

The catholic church have now compared abortionists with Nazis. Thus has Godwin’s Law been evoked, and the entire thing can be forgotten. (via ρ)

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Imported From Epistula internet

Wikipedia as spam validation

So I recieved an interesting piece of spam today:

Interesting, because it uses Wikipedia as a reference point. My first thought was that they had edited the Wikipedia page on their particular field to recommend their own product, which would be sneaky and more interesting. What they have actually done is used it as a real reference on the subject, which is possibly cool. Either way it wended its sneaky way though all my spam filters. Mostly because the subject line is completely accurate and not at all filterable on.

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Imported From Epistula SubscribeMe

Subscribe via MSN

SubscribeMe now supports My MSN and FeedMarker

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Imported From Epistula tv

Music

I’d be happier with CSI if they’re “Finding important evidence of murder” music wasn’t directly out of my MP3 collection.

Categories
Imported From Epistula MotW

Um

So, I present without comment, this time period’s MP3OTW:

The Virgin Mary Grilled Cheese Song

Categories
Computer Games Imported From Epistula

Wright Stuff

Artwork style is somewhere between Pixar / Geiger.

Will Wright is creating a new game. Looks interesting.

(Edit: Some Screenshots have appeared)

Categories
food Imported From Epistula Movies Personal tv

Domino Rally II – Cruise Control

A couple of years ago we had a minor problem with Dominos Pizza, and since then we have not ordered from Dominos.

Well, we probably have, to be honest, but not in the last couple of years. More because Lights Pizza (near Letchworth. Good pizzas, and we’re getting to the “It’s us” “It’ll be there in an hour” stage) is better, and we didn’t do pizza as often in Reading. (Thats it! I can blame the breakdown of our relationship on not having a sufficient community area in which to eat food and watch movies! I can stop angsting now!) but today is the first time since that point I can remember ordering from Dominos.

I ordered from the website at 18:15. It was on my doorstep by 18:35.

Colour me impressed.

Nice pizza, too.

I also finally got around to watching Breakfast at Tiffany’s which Lovefilm (Tell ‘em nicholas at aquarionics sent you) sent me for free for converting people to them. It’s a wonderful film, and everyone should see it at some point.

Mostly, though, I’m catching up on five years backlog of CSI. Why didn’t anyone tell me how good this show was?

Categories
Fiction Imported From Epistula stories

Chris

“You know the drill, Name, Number, Tone” Beep

It wasn’t a dark, or stormy night.

This was depressing.

“Hi, Chris? It’s Jane”

It was early evening, and the sky was bathed in a golden pink that would cause grown poets to cry. The grass was green, the red-bricked houses either side of him poked out from behind carefully pruned hedge-rows. The last time he had walked down this road he was going to school.

“Listen, please. I know the last few weeks have been tough going”

Far beyond drive-time now, the main road was empty. He had left suburbia behind and was heading into the mild little country lanes beyond. The birds were singing, and the only sound was the light crunch of trainers upon the gravel to the side of the road.

“Losing that job was a blow, I’m sure. But there is something we need to talk about that is more important”

It should have been a dark and stormy night. It deserved lightening, and thunder, and great symphonic crashes and waves. Or, at least, the kind of windy, dark night that makes you glad you’re inside and not out. It deserved depressing weather.

“Us”

But there wasn’t. There was just the red tinged sky of the early evening (Shepherds delight), and the bright songs of the birds in the trees and the hedge-rows.

“There isn’t really any way I can say this to you, not without hurting us both, and not to your face”

When was the last time anyone had gone down this road? A bridle-path spun off to the right and he took it without thinking. It was overgrown and the path lay somewhere beneath the layers of nettles and thorns, but it was away from there. It. Everything.

“I’ve met someone else”

Somebody else had been here. A rusty can sat in the path, seemingly spat out of the undergrowth as an illegal alien. An undesirable. Surplus to nature’s requirements. He kicked it, and the can went sailing over the remains of the barbed wire fence, landing within the field of corn.

“I feel so stupid talking to an answer phone, but I don’t know where you are, and your mobile is off. You’d like him, you really would. He’s called Dave, he’s got a job at a securities place up in London”

There really wasn’t any point. Not without her. So they hadn’t known each other long, it was sudden. Quick. And it was most certainly too soon to lose her. He remembered the party they had met at, She had already got a boyfriend, but they became friends, and soon it… Blossomed.

“I feel really bad doing this to you, But I just don’t love you enough any more”

There was no way he could have her now. He had her. *They* would get married, and they would have children, and in fifteen years time they would meet again and say “What would life be like if…”.

No.

He found a stream in the woods at the end of the path, and sat by it. Miles from anyone.

“I’ll put the engagement ring in the post. I think it’s better if we never see each other again”

From his jacket pocket, he withdrew a dull metal object, Raised the gun to his temple.

The explosion lifted clouds of birds from the trees.

And, as the explosion rings out across the countryside, and even while the body slumps into the stream, there is a click as the caller hangs up.

And Dave’s body begins to decompose.

Categories
Computer Games driving Imported From Epistula Those who evolve

Work, Rest and Play

In much the same way that dancing around the high street naked will probably filter back to your co-workers, you should realise that anything you say on your public weblog will also possibly get back to them.

So, don’t do stupid things. If you do stupid things, apologise, find out exactly what you did that was stupid, and move on.

Google isn’t helpful in this. Within two weeks of my accepting the job with Evolving Media, my category of the same name was in the top five matches for the phrase on Google. This means that a client of the company googling for our past works will probably stumble upon this little rock in the ocean.

So, a couple of entries on here have been edited at the company’s request, and I’m considering a few things I’ve been looking at for a while, like blocking access to diary entries more than six months old (Articles stay, that’s the point). I’ve also added the disclaimer to the end of the site.

I’m also saving all my rants about what we’re doing until I can formulate them into an impartial essay on the relative benifits of technology over other technology, rather than “ARGH! $FOO SUCKS GOATS THOUGH FINE GAUZE!”, which would be roughly my current thing.

So, with little time to do anything but work (I’m passing taking my driving theory test on Monday, the next step in a long road that will lead – eventually – to driving down roads instead of taking steps down them) and censoring myself from everything I _am_ doing, this thing’s looking a little sparse.

Currently, however, I’m ill, spending time in bed feeling sorry for myself (and attempting to work) and attempting to start a movement to start the entire millenium again.

So, with no time and no energy, I’ve done the only logical thing.

I’ve started a new project, more creative than most of the recent ones. See how long this one lasts…