The Scotto Grotto (org)

I’ve got lovey thoughts on my mind… the music, and thinking about my sweetheart brings me joy. Feeling extra-bonus mushy this morning. She is truly a permanent resident in my heart.

$25 check in the mail from Grammy and Ted, along with my phone/internet bill. D’oh.

Anarchists and the fine art of torture

“A Spanish art historian has uncovered what was alleged to be the first use of modern art as a deliberate form of torture, with the discovery that mind-bending prison cells were built by anarchist artists 65 years ago during the country’s bloody civil war.”

They say that everybody on the planet is separated from everybody else by no more than six degrees of separation. Of course, that’s a load of old bushwah. What isn’t is the fact that everybody is born with a *potential* separation number – if you live long enough, you’re destined to meet the right people to put you within that many degrees of separation from the whole planet. There’s a couple of ways to find out your number – there’s a beggar in Katmandu who’ll tell you if you give him 777 rupees, and there’s a guy in Sunnyvale, California who owns a coin operated fortune-teller that’ll spit out a slip of paper with your number on it if you use a silver dime minted in a leap year.

Now, even though the old saw isn’t really true, there are quite a few Sixes running around out there, several Fives, and a handful of Fours. Lately, though, there’s talk of a kid out in the Midwest who’s got a potential number of Three. The guys who watch the numbers – Bacons, they call themselves – are trying to keep a lid on his whereabouts so that he’s got a chance to grow up a little before every Illuminated ding-dong tries to enlist him in whatever underground war they’ve got on tap that week.

Of course, they tell me that it’s only a matter of time before there’s a Two born. That’s right, an honest to gosh FOAF, and whoever gets him is going to have a propaganda tool that make the Internet look like a basket of Chick tracts.

Oh, this is going to cause some problems with a lot of the teeny-bopper million-post per day situation, and some of the folks that run a news-style I think limiting the number of comments is a much worse idea than posts per day. I may have to buy the a paid account, just so it can have more than 3 -5 posts a day. (Yesterday it had six posts.)

In other News, there’s a community management page now. If you’re in charge of a community, the interface is much simpler to deal with. Thank goodness!

Dear Little Newton, My favorite orange quadruped:
When I’m cleaning out your litter box, and replacing the sand… please wait until all of the sand is poured before jumping in and doing your business. I know a clean potty is nice, but it’s only two more minutes, tops… I promise.
Thanks!

I took a quick palm-snap of a birthday card while the room was post-shower steamy.

I swear that it seems like on some days I only see some of the entries of folks I read. I just caught BQ‘s lovely birthday wish today.