Thursday, February 27, 2003
Well. I feel it incumbent upon myself to inform those of you who do not regularly see the Blogger homepage that Pyra, which originally owned/ran Blogger, has been a-purchased by none other than my very favorite search engine, Google. I hope for great things to come of this.
I have some nice new tidbits for you lovely reader-like folk, in the form of links. I have created a 'Friends of the Cat' section in my increasingly extensive side-bar-o'-links, wherein you may view the blogs of people that I know. There are three which were there before, and there are two new, unproven ones which were only recently created. We shall see how long they last. The sites are listed in the order that I found out about them, and presumably in the order of their creation. May they bring you joy.
Today in english we learned that the handsome young man in a bathing suit was the angel of death. Of course.
My biology essays await me. We shall attend to them later.
Chirac and Bush don't much like each other, do they? In one of the French newspaper sites I was reading today (Libération) the headlined article indicated that Bush was saying that a new, sans-Saddam regime in Iraq would facilitate a peace between Israel and Palestine. Personally, I don't see how that would work out, and apparently the French don't see it either, because the article, while not being outright derogatory, was definitely rather snide.
I think that sums up a lot of the French attitudes towards Americans. Snide. Not that they're entirely without reason, but they tend to take it too far, and they tend to oppose us no matter what, just because they don't like us. Sigh. World politics.
Now, if the world were run by Anarchistic Green Democratic Felines (the AGDF party, of course), none of this would be an issue. The leaders of the world would get together in the UN and peacefully vote to let everyone do whatever the hell they wanted, so long as it didn't hurt the environment. Then everyone would go play with a crinkle ball, and then they would all go to sleep.
And the world would be a better place.
Yesterday I got a thoroughly glorious bit of junk mail. I had hordes of it, because I hadn't been online in so very long, but this one caught my eye. It advertised the "#1 COLON CLEANSER!", and it advised me to get this all-natural cleansing product right now, to protect against harmful toxins and parasites. Sadly, I had to decline this promising offer.
I also got a number of emails urging me to "Get the Size You've Always Wanted to Please Your Woman!", which at least proves that my email address is staying anonymous enough that spammers don't even know my gender. I wonder how I even get on these lists. I mean, what site am I hitting that is prompting these? Cnn.com? Meowmail? Maybe it's the racy Bryophyte Photos that's doing it.
I was going to get offline and do my work. But now my brother is demanding to get online. So I shall remain on out of spite, and in the hopes of teaching the nasty, loathsome creature a little respect.
The sun is at that exact point in the sky where it hangs low over the horizon like a giant, swollen, burning tennis ball of flame. It fills the sky with yellow and orange light, and the trees turn black and stark as velvet cut-outs. Very pretty, yes, but it's just low enough to shine directly into my eyes whenever I glance at the window, causing me much pain and disturbing corneal afterimages of tennis.
That damn dusk.
I heard a most wonderous song upon the radio today. It was french. It said things like, "Quand tu tournes, tu es blanche. Quand tu tournes, tu es noir." only it was sung in a really cool way and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I caught the name and the album name, and I shall look them up shortly.
Actually, I'll go do that now.
Later, alligator (an oviparous reptile, member of subphylum Vertebrates, member of phylum Chordata).