what did he know and when did he know it?

p.s. It's hard to keep up with all this outer space stuff when you're busy planning to take over this planet.

Well, he said it better than I did.

This from Joseph Duemer, who is more demure than I, and far more eloquent. I don't think he'd keep pieces of the shuttle if it landed on his land like I admitted I would. Instead, Joseph touches on the essentials about why the Columbia disaster doesn't really move my grief meter.

Too much sorrow in the small crevices of the earth. Too much nearby, under the heavens. I can't buy into the "national mourning" mandate of the media. When risk of death is inherent in a profession, and that risk is realized, then I say, sad, yes, and I move on.

I post this finally because I've been leaving comments over at Shelley's place, where I littered too much pessimism. Shelley did a wonderful tribute to the space program and its meaning for her (and many). Rather than leave any more of my negativity over there, I thought I'd have my final say here about today's news: They risked, they lost. God bless their children.

If you're looking for a personal touch on this global story, hop over to something Fishrush blogged more than a week ago about astronaut Kalpana Chawla. I like it because it's not piggybacking on the post-explosion news. It's something he was thinking and writing about while Chawla was alive.

That, more than anything I read today, gave me pause.

Halley's going to change the world...

one alpha male at a time.

LOOK OUT, UK! She's coming soon. Lock away your young men and your silverware!

If you lived in Texas...

If you lived in Nacogdoches, Texas, would you be picking up the pieces of the shuttle you've been told not to touch?

My answer later today.

and then there's this

Found this neat Science Blog this morning while I was looking for news on the Shuttle Columbia crash. It's a pretty cool blog and has interesting stories beyond the crisis of the minute.

I don't have much to say about the disaster, except I'm hoping none of the folks on the ground are harmed by the debris now raining down. I was looking at Drudge Report this morning at the minute the story broke. I chose not to blog it then because, now this is going to sound cruel, I didn't care much about it. Folks who get aboard a ball of fuel that can fly from Texas to Florida in 16 minutes, to my mind, realize that they can die from said adventure. Unless a regular Joe, or a Marek, gets hurt by a chunk of metal dropping from the sky, my heartstrings aren't tugged.

Sorry.

I found myself thinking instead that when the Challenger exploded, I was working at the University of Rochester, sitting at my desk in the editorial department of the Journal of Policy and Analysis, working in DOS and that horrible aberration of a word processing program better known as WordPerfect, cranking out words from overpaid egomaniacs for minimum wage.

Man, I'm selfish.

Turning off the news now.

The best thing about the Danger HipTop...

Is being able to pull the covers tight, snuggle in, and curl up with a
good blog.
--jeneane

now how was I supposed to leave this sitting in a comment box

It deserves a top-level chuckle from a guy who's tops himself. Tom Matrullo makes comedic Gumbo out of my McWhat? post.

feeling some positive energy around here this evening.

don't know what it is.
not expecting it to last.
but still, it's kinda nice.

(she says looking skyward for that other shoe.)

Shock and Awe

Sound like a bad movie title? Coming soon to a war theater near you: Shock and Awe.

This just in from David Weinberger, who go it from smh.com. au, CBS News, and CommonDreams. To be expected? Wshew.

On the topic of looming war, Shelley just turned down a good defense industry job and says why. Whether or not you agree with the war, to my mind, there is no disagreement about someone consistent in her principles. Another Wshew from me.

Putting a smile on my face now to go pick up my own precious little human life from school. Feeling a little more than down about the seemingly unsolvable problems of this world.

What do Joe Millionaire's Sarah Kozer and I have in common?

Answer: Eyeballs.

Check out my placement on Yahoo and Google for the Sarah Kozer story. Yesterday (two days ago now?) I pointed to The Smoking Gun's outing of Kozer, its story replete with soft-core bondage photos from Sarah's earlier dabbling in "entertainment."

I just saw the story run on Entertainment Tonight, said George, Bloggers and Net Dwellers scooped big media again, and we laughed. Later, I happened to look at my referrers list and saw a HOST of curious surfers finding my blog in their quest for sweet sarah's dungeon.

Sorry folks. Mostly she wears preppy turtlenecks and duct tape. Nice if you like preppy turtleneces and duct tape.

Otherwise, pretty lame. Good luck on your search though!

McDrive-Thru

I picked up Jenna after school and decided to stop by McDonalds to use some coupons I'd been saving up. One was a "free sandwhich" card--a card I got because the skilled technicians at the drive-thru window didn't deliver the breakfast goods in 30 seconds or less--and two coupons were from my Atlanta Entertainment book.

Generally, I'm not a coupon kind of gal. I should be. But I'm not. So I was pretty proud of myself for scoring a dinner for three for under $7.00 with these coupon things.

I pulled up to the "shout your order" menu board and told my story, that I'd like two Big Macs, but I had a buy-one-get-one-free coupon, so charge me for one BigMac.

Grasp of English on the other end of the two-way speaker was not great. But so far so good.

Then I asked for a Fish sandwhich for Jenna (her favorite) and said I had a card to get that free (the 30 seconds or less card).

"Oh, only one coupon. Only one per visit," returns the voice.

"I figured as much. I'll pull around and drive through again then."

It was an annoyance to pay, get the BigMacs, and pull around again, but rules are rules.

So I wait my turn, get back up to the "shout your order" board, and say, "It's me again. Can I get the free fish sandwhich? I have a card for that."

"Okay, drive up."

Trip two done. I'm a little annoyed but understand that I was asking a lot of them--that I'd never get them to understand why it didn't make sense that they couldn't hand me the fish sandwhich for the 30 seconds I wasted last time. In essense, I just lost my 30 seconds all over again. hmmm.

Oh well, at least I got the free fish.

Now, one more. The buy-one-get-one McFlurries that Jenna's been clamoring for in the back seat since we pulled into the drive through 15 minutes prior.

Around we go again to wait our turn.

Up to the order board finally. Now I'm feeling stupid, but oh so thrifty. Dinner and desert for next to nothing.

"Hello. I have a buy-one-get-one-free coupon for McFlurries. Can I have one M&M and one Oreo?"

"Drive up." The formalities are long gone.

I pull up to my now-familiar order/money taker and hold out my final coupon. "This is it. Thank you."

She takes it and disappears into the back, or the freezer, I couldn't tell which. I figured she had to visit some kind of freezer to get our McFlurries. I was wrong.

She walks back to the window and hands me my coupon back.

"You have to wait two hours to get these."

"Um... Two hours?"

"Uh huh. Two hours until you can use," she says pointing to the coupon.

My first thought was: Two hours before I can eat again--what, am I swimming home?

My second thought was, are you worried that my arteries need those extra 120 minutes to soften before I put more of your crap food down my cake hole?

My third thought was, WHAT?

So I say, "What?"

She shrugs her sweet South American shoulders.

Now understand something. There are three McDonalds between our house and Jenna's school. This is not po-dunk North Dakota (apologies, ND bloggers). This is the metro area, where McDonalds sprout from the clay about every 15 feet.

I point down the road--the next nearest golden arches are almost visible. "Well, I guess I'll go to that McDonalds and use the coupon."

She looks at me with a worried expression, glancing down the road toward the other McDonalds.

Again with the shoulder shrug, she says: "That might work."

That might work.

That might work.

Yes, I would think that might work. You stupid idiot. I didn't hate you, but now I do. Now I think your boss is back there snapping a picture of my license plate to zap over to the fucking data warehouse at McDonalds corporate, where McDonalds #2 is immediately alerted that a blue minivan is on the way, looking for McFlurries without waiting two hours.

Yes. That might be happening.

If trailers could fly.

Instead I say, "I think that will work."

And I drive off with Jenna crying for her McFlurry, and me explaining that we have to take a fourth trip through the drive thru tonight because mommy is saving money and McDonalds is stupid, and she tells me stupid isn't a nice word, and I say yes, but that wasn't nice to make us go through the drive thru four times because we had coupons. Then I agree not to call the lady stupid anymore.

Up the road, at the next McDonalds, sure enough, it does work. They didn't know me or my mini-van. They didn't know about the two-hour rule. The nice kid at the window handed me two McFlurries, charged me $2.00 and a few cents, and even gave me napkins. He looked happy to see the coupon.

And all the way home, I'm thinking, McWTF?

our blogbrother needs some our assistance

Michael O'Connor Clarke need some help. His baby is in the hospital, yet his life ticks on and he's slated to do a speech on corporate Intranets next week at the Corporate Communication & Technology Conference. As you can imagine, he doesn't have a lot of extra time to dig up information--he's spending a lot of time at the hospital. If you have any research or information to help him out, jump over and leave it in the comment box. Already left mine. And leave a warm prayer for Ruairi while you're there.

if you want to know what m-blogging's like, read hiptop nation

I'm still trying to find out if I laugh so hard because I have a HipTop, or if it's just that much fun. Learn what bloggers with little teeny tiny cameras and a T-Mobile Sidekick do all day.

We fly, we drive, we can't get out of bed, we attend lots of meetings, we drive some more, we eat food, we take pictures of food, we take lots of pictures of signs, we take pictures of stuffed animals, we take pictures of real animals, we don't mind looking silly, we actually enjoy looking silly, we make fun of ourselves, and we don't interact with one another on this team blog.

We just write and post pictures of really wierd and sometimes very mundane stuff.

That's why I like it so much.

Just wait though, I'm going to start drawing these hiptopers into conversations with one another, or at least with me. You'll see...

dusting off the floppies

In response to my post below about my days writing about b2b marketplaces (exchanges, hubs, digital marketplaces, which by any other name have still sparked and died out), Kevin Marks asks if our emusicXchange concept is similar to his mediaAgora, (beyond our use of a fancy capital letter in the middle of the name).

While I see interchange among the two concepts, emusicXchange, in our mind was a real, dynamic marketplace for the business of music. A better (for everyone) creative process and creative works (in the way of music) would be the result of making the business end of music easier and cheaper. The business of music is a necessary evil and almost always the pitfall for great artists. Our exchange was going to be about enabling everyone within the business--from musicians to composers to studios to engineers to venues to promotors etc. etc.--to have a gathering place online where they could conduct business.

Not so different from polymer plastic, huh?

I commented back to Kevin in my original post, but thought a picture I dug off of an old disk might help illustrate. Remember, this was 99-00. Be gentle.

And Kevin, I'll be back to talk about it more after I dig into your site. Duty calls.

(click image for larger picture)



feedback?

e-thrombosis?

Glad I got my HipTop when I did!

"Overzealous Volunteer"

Is that what they're calling PR people these days?

Thoughts on the wind to Canada

Our biggest blogsprog is sick and in the hospital. His temperature's down, and that's good. Michael and Sausage are waiting to find out what's made the baby sick. They're awaiting results from the battery of tests performed at the hospital.

There aren't words to express the anguish and worry they must be feeling, but through Michael's words both fear and love come across loud and clear. Michael, he'll be okay. We're thinking of you and your family and our special little blogsprog.

calling doctor blogger?

Any medical bloggers out there want to tell me if this kind of thing is common?. With three abdominal surgeries under my belt--or should I say uterus--I am feeling quite faint at the prospect of a Texas A&M logo branded on my most private of privates.

g--a--g.

Thanks (I think) dearest for the link.

(cross-posted on Blog Sisters)

!

This company appears to be gone, or at least badly demolished, and "several" people have been killed in a huge explosion. The site is down. The link above is cached from google. Waiting for news from North Carolina bloggers. Praying for families involved
.

jill millionaire

sleazy is as sleazy does. It appears that Joe Millionaire finalist Sarah Kozer revealed herself as a money chasing harlot long before stepping onto the set of JM.

According to The Smoking Gun, she starred in a series of fetish films before making her debut on FOX.

figures.