I'm so crazed this week, I've got to layer the meaning. (click to enlarge pic courtesy of Ciruelo Cabral) I will not only be serving up aggregations of linkage, but I'll miss tomorrow's posting because I'm attending the first day of the PGA championship at Baltusrol. They have this funny policy of no phones, organizers, or electronic doodads on the grounds which sounds at first inconvenient and then incredibly appealing.
I've also got an unspecified number of houseguests coming to stay at the tiny hovel on Friday, so I must scale the crust off public areas and guess how much salami and Michelob to acquire. When does the manuscript get finally revised, printed, duplicated, and shipped to Canada, you ask? (or I'll pretend you did) Who can say. I'm living like a fruit fly at a pace that kills.
A 28 year-old South Korean man quits job to spend more time gaming, then dies after a 50-hour session. Tragic, yes, but even though I'm not a fan of battle simulations, aren't you itching to know what game is that good? In more tech meets South Korean news, they've got the first cloned Afghan hound, a dog they admit is dumb but easier to produce given its genetic purity. When they move on to humans (as people protest they won't and we all know they will) we may have to bodily defend our genetically simple hillbillies from becoming their ideal lab victims, no-captives, oops- organ farms, I meant willing subjects in the advance of human potential if not humanity.
An artist has returned (on the public's dime, of course) to correct the 11 misspellings she inserted in a educational mural for the Livermore, CA public library. Pictures are attached to the story. Don't give me the old artists can't be expected to know writers or scientists line, because she screwed up Van Gogh and Gauguin, too, folks we might have expected her to have known, although given the look of the thing... I have my doubts. And the city who should have approved the final design pieces and caught it at the first "Eistein" let it go for a year. Welcome to the glories of municipal planning. Why would I not want committees of the well-meaning meddling and managing every detail of my human life? That was supposed to read Advil for my head, not anvil!
I got this from Ann Althouse subbing for Instapundit. She's posted it before, but I forgot where it was, a fact which will reveal me as extra lame when you see the blog's name. Reading the computer-generated blog by Eggagog, you'll dig the nonsensical, poetical grooviness of synthetic communication. Soon my cloned dog and I will be able to talk politics while our android serves us jerky and I await my new hillbilly-grown kidney.