15 August 2004
Brisbane

(No, I don't care what the date stamp says. One must be flexible about this sort of thing ...)

The local library blocks e-mail without advance reservations, but permits spontaneous frivolity like blogging. It's 66 degrees F (19 C) with moderate winds, by far the coolest day since Friday. Low-flying butterflies swoop down and check out pedestrians at the riverfront park, while signs in the nearby food court warn PLEASE DO NOT FEED THE IBIS. The birds ignore the signs, and do a great job at cleaning up spilled chips. Kids are splashing around in a shallow manmade pool, while bicyclists, taking a note from the ubiquitous ibis, ignore the CYCLISTS MUST DISMOUNT signs and buzz happily along the paths. Welcome to winter in Brisbane.

Yes, we did go to Australia Zoo yesterday. Steve was nowhere in evidence, although Kelsey and Brino did oblige by putting Charlie through his paces in the Croc-O-Seum. (Agro is remarkably placid when he's not on camera, by the way.) It was fun, although I got most excited by a gigantic turquoise, black, and white leafhopper that I found crawling up a tree. No photos, unfortunately. It refused to pose.

More later ....

No intentional tangents today ....

First of all, as a source of mild to moderate amusement:

Take the quiz: "Which Holy Grail Character Are You?"

Dennis the Peasant
Oh, King, eh, very nice. And how d'you get that, eh? By exploiting the workers! By 'anging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society. If there's ever going to be any progress with the...

And now for something completely different:

The Bug House will be on partial hiatus for several weeks, due to sporadic Internet access after tomorrow morning. Any entries during that time won't be obligately tangential; we'll see what happens after that. I will, of course, try to get on line as soon as possible after seeing my first Myrmecia.

It's all about the bugs!

Fourth in a series of increasingly tangentially linked blog entries.

The best stoner attire ever: In my MIT dorm in the late seventies, a group of guys put their considerable wits together and designed a very special T-shirt. This was at a time in history when big-oil cartels were very much in the news, and, coincidentally, groups of students often teamed up to pool their resources to make bulk purchases from -- er, specialized herbalists. I still remember when the gang showed up for their intramural softball game in their new shirts -- lovely pale green background, the obligate Cannabis sativa leaf emblem, and the legend:

DOPEC

The other tangent from the past entry: I wrote it while sitting in the Ravenclaw Common Room in Ann Arbor, the night before the Montgomery Burns tournament, where I was a reader. As my friends, one by one, acquire their own AirPort and equivalent systems, the world becomes linked in more and more ways. So many ways, in fact, that I almost never have to get off the net. It's going to be an interesting experience to be sporadically netless for several weeks. That is, unless I freak out and tote the iBook with me on my travels. I'm really trying to resist. Messages of support are much appreciated.

P.S.: Happy belated birthday, Mark. Congrats on the new job, Mike.