I got ill this morning, with a reasonably significant headache and nausea, so I came home early from my practicum. (Veronica said I was "really, really, really" pale.) It wasn't a migraine; I've had one before, and the headache part of my pain wasn't nearly painful enough. I collapsed on my bed when I got home, fully-clothed with the light and TV on, and drifted in and out of sleep for a few hours.
OK, I know that I have expressed my distasted for Michael Moore in the past, and I do honestly think that his bullying tone did the left no favors come election time, but this is actually pretty amusing; Moore posted 17 Reasons Not to Slit Your Wrists on his website. Among other, less amusing resons was this:
Well, it seemed funny at the time. I like the idea of a show tunes embargo, I think. (via Librarian's Rant)6. Michigan voted for Kerry! So did the entire Northeast, the birthplace of our democracy. So did 6 of the 8 Great Lakes States. And the whole West Coast! Plus Hawaii. Ok, that's a start. We've got most of the fresh water, all of Broadway, and Mt. St. Helens. We can dehydrate them or bury them in lava. And no more show tunes!
I'm just glad I happen to be reading a book by Terry Pratchett right now.
This is SO cool; I've always wanted a secret room hidden behind a bookcase. If I ever have a house built, I'll get one. (I also want an R.Mutt urinal in the bathroom. And a gift-wrapping room. And stained-glass windows depicting Charlie Brown trying to kick the football.) (via BoingBoing)
I heard this rumor in 1991; I thought it was complete bullshit then, too. Honest Abe wasn't gay; he was just into good, old-fashioned, heterosexual anal sex. Is that so wrong? (via Bookslut)
Speaking of wrong: the history of the Hello Kitty Vibrator. (via Neil Gaiman)
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Today I might be mad, and tomorrow I'll be glad, but I've got Friday on my mind:
This one is from one of my favorite albums, Blast the Human Flower, one of the few from my early college years that I still listen to. Of Ms. Dax, Jello Biafra once said of her:Dax is an electronics genius and multi-instrumentalist who produces her own records and designs her own covers. She used to be in the Lemon Kittens and is on the United Dairies comps. She's becoming Top Forty [this was in 1994; it never quite panned out] but still retains a lot of what's cool about her. Her voics is 1920s slithery-sultry, like Mark Bolan's voice on the first two acoustic Tyrannosaurus Rex albums. (RE:SEARCH #15 :Incredibly Strange Music V. II, pg. 20.)
This is song refuting the existance of God, or certainly of any God that the Christian Church (any of them, actually) recognizes. It's a wonderful song, pointing out the absurdity of it all. And it's all to a disco beat. Have you noticed I'm big with the disco beats? Well, I'm big anyways, but you know what I mean. But the song has a wonderful 'throw-your-hands-in-the-air-if-you-just-don't-care'-moment when she's singing, "Get up off of that altar, drink that holy water."
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Tomorrow I have to go back on campus; the library science professor who's in charge of the practicum students is having another three-hour seminar. I hope at least I feel a little better; if I were to miss it, I wouldn't graduate, and even if I had all my hours finished (135), I would have to show up for the seminar next semester. And then I think I'm going to have to go work the reference desk with Veronica on Sunday morning to make up for today. This screws up my weekend plans of accomplishing absolutely nothing. *sigh*
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