Moscow, Moscow, throw your glasses against the wall

Yo. I know, it's been ages. I really ought stop updating so irregularly; I'm sure it's murder on my rantbeast readership among non-users of Sage. Sorry, but I just don't feel like updating anymore. As I read through my posts of last year, I'm often annoyed at my immaturity, and in reading Blue-Betan blogs, Times & Seasons, and By Common Consent, I'm reminded that I still boast little in the ways of cleverness and profundity. (I should start a religion with a focus on "The Way of Cleverness.") Mind you, this is no self-loathing, despondent green sense of inadequacy, seething in scorn at my own presumed insight. On the contrary, while I don't feel myself capable of attaining those things I would like right now, I am enjoying a pleasant, sustainable lifestyle, and as I immerse myself in interaction both social and intellectual, I cannot imagine but that I shall within the reasonable future attain such a capacity. Excuse me if I'm a little less bombastic for the moment. Fear not; pretentious and condescending are here to stay.

Update: eh, nothing, really. I've been hanging out at Vermillion Skies a lot; in fact, I was pictured in the recent SL Trib article about it. (Frozen Seduction in a Cup is to die for, btw.) Doing some web design for Chris Sandberg, a guy in my FHE group; thusfar, I'm just learning a few languages (PHP, ASP) and working on the firm's site. The Peircean test revision is going reasonably well; I've brought people to semiotics class both of the past two weeks, which has been fun, though missing Poetasters is unfortunate.

My birthday was fun; Thirdmango, Karla, my cousin Cassian, and my boss came over for lots of pizza and Baptists at our Barbecue, which apparently got surprisingly poor ratings on IMDB. Everyone at the party really enjoyed it. Uncle Ali and Aunt Cathy invited Cassian and me up for dinner the next night. You know, I'm surprised people say they can't give up meat because of steak. It's really not that tasty, kids, and it fills you up sooo quickly. I'd far rather sample fruits and vegetables. They kindly gave me $50, though, which I'll use to register for the 2005 FAIR Conference. If any of you would like to join me, let me know. I'm also going to the SL 2005 Sunstone Symposium, which is only a buck. Both are coming up very quickly.

My stepmum gave me an ice cream cake, which my FHE family thoroughly enjoyed (as did I, mmmm), and my father gave me money to buy books. I'm very excited about my LDSLiving shopping spree; to my currently pitiful Gospel doctrine collection (TotPJS, Counseling with our Councils, and Isaiah Decoded [by one of the September Six, hah]), I'll be adding the Encyclopedia of LDS History, Best-Loved Talks, Answers to Gospel Questions, Gospel Doctrine, Mormon Doctrine, The Inexhaustible Gospel, and To Draw Closer to God. (I'll have to wait on the Encyclopedia of Mormonism until I have a grand to spare, sadly. Even though it's whitewashed, it's cool how many of my professors had an hand in it.)

That's really about it. We had a ward rafting trip yesterday; I realized at 6:15 in the morning (having slept the previous afternoon from two to seven) that I had to clean my very messy room, move all of my possessions downstairs into apartment #1, and meet in the Sierra parking lot by 7:30. Yeah, I totally did it and had time to spare to shower. I'm amazing. Rafting was pleasant, if not outright fun; I was too pensive, and the river, too placid, for any real excitement. I was very very tired by the time we got home, and fell asleep without pillow or blanket for sixteen or seventeen hours. That's about it. As I said, life is pleasant, even if I do waste most of it away writing misguided Board comments and reading through tomes of Wikipedia entries on Italian, extreme programming, and Power Rangers. (For a show designed solely to sell toys, their mythos is quite staggeringly complex. And man, those were cool toys.)

Canonical weblog time.

Fireworks yay!

Huh. Mitt Romney sounds pretty okay.

A reminder concerning missionary farewells. From, uh...1971. Now that's inertia.

I really, really want to like Mark Hansen's music. I mean, he's LDS, he's purportedly rocking, and he's using the Weed distribution service, which is ingenious. I just wish his music were good, like--as I had planned to say--The Minibosses. Upon reflection, though, I've realized that, were Mr. Hansen associated with video games, I would actually eagerly embrace his work. "Out of the Chapel," particularly, would be a brilliant theme song; I'm visualizing a punch-em-out style game, similar to Streets of Rage, attacking street vermin with either soul-saving attacks or a "Kill 'em all, and let God sort 'em out" philosophy. Playable characters would be, I imagine, a guy, a girl, an individual of color, and an individual of limited mobility and advanced age. ("Individual of limited gender" just became my favorite phrase ever.) À la Simpsons, it would include team-up options, perhaps combining each character's piece of the armor of God. (That last bit exceeds its potential for humor only in its potential for offensiveness.)

Wow, does this ever sound familiar. Hilarious.

Despite repeated injunctives by various Board writers, I will not consider using a Mac. However, I am strongly considering partitioning my hard drive for a slim Unix flavour. What are your thoughts? I have only 10 gigs; it'll need to be seriously bare-bones.

I'm assuming Lacie no longer reads this, leaving me free to post amusing things like this. (Similar.)

The most irresistible pop-up I can imagine.

If I'm ever in a terrorist attack, I totally want to be this guy. "Yes, it really is rather unfortunate. Face half blown off and all that bother." Hurrah for the Brits.

I finally rediscovered Junction, my analogue of Big Fish's Spectre. Such a gorgeous little town, right next to this beautiful lake and a sea of mountainous pine.

I am thrilled and an half to have rediscovered the Nerdity Tests of ancient days. Consider this a standing challenge to anyone, in any category. Well, except Misaneroth.

This confession possibly single-handedly balances all the depressing admissions of despair on Group Hug. Awww.

Cultural blasphemy on two counts...but I enjoyed it.

The Stealth Bomber apparently runs on code in a language developed in 1959. Stealth just went from far-fetched to laughable.

The Nice Guy comics: basically, drawings of every cliche about relationships ever spoken. I laughed, though.

Anyone remember that Moskau music video that was circulating for a while? Apparently it was done by the German equivalent of the Village People, Dschinghis Khan.

FAQ about the meaning of Life. Endorses the Libertarian party; he can't be wrong.

That'll do it for now. Until next time, remember, great minds think for themselves.

Edit: fifty-nine links, two coding errors. I totally win the blog game.