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Tio Tani [por telefono]: Oye char, y tienen luz? Mi tio tiene esquizofrenia y le cuesta mucho trabajo hilvanar sus ideas con coherencia. Ocasionalmente dice cosas tan incongruentes que son chistosisimas.
Si te gustan los refranes la mitad de lo que a mi me gustan no te pierdas la version en linea del Refranero Mexicano de Herón Pérez Martínez. Es una joya. (La version impresa tambien es muy buena y la consigues a unos 130 pesos en la Jose Luisa o directamente en fce.com.mx.)
Local Red Cross ads1 (there are several versions of’em) are really good this year: 
They make me think of Eliezer Yudkowsky’s sad, true words: “Death hurt us, so we will unmake Death. Let that be the outlet for our anger, which is terrible and just.” 1 Their website’s flashy welcome is, alas, hideous.
What does “boygirlparty” mean? A boygirlparty is the first party you go to as an adolescent that has all sorts of kids at it (girls and boys) that you’re not used to playing with, It’s exciting and strange. Maybe you play spin-the-bottle. The term, to me, is loaded with all different kinds of child-like wonderment and energy. Also, boygirlparty is one word. It just is.
I’m absolutely fascinated reading Daniel H. Pink’s A Whole New Mind (I’ve just read over half of it) and this is a droll ultra-short story (mini-saga he calls them) I found there: Staying overnight with friends, his sleep was disturbed by a vivid dream: a thief broke in, stole everything in the flat—then carefully replaced every single item with an exact replica. “It felt so real,” he told his friends in the morning. Horrified, uncomprehending, they replied, “But who are you?”
A Dream So Real
By Patrick Forsyth, Maldon, United Kingdom
Today’s reading, The Perry Bible FellowshipWP, has precious few words in it, it’s a comic strip. The most disturbed and weird one I know, at times insanely funny and original. There are over 163 strips in the archive so to make this into my Today’s Reading section (which is all about pithiness) here’s a selection of my favorites:
Their (brilliant) author is Nicholas Gurewitch, who also happens to be a very talented artist and movie director (The Forest (Parental Advisory: It revolves around the weirdest cartoon hand-job), Ken’s New Specs).
This shall be the first of a series of daily (or almost daily) short readings: Joe Haldeman’s None So Blind. It’s a tiny, funny, fascinating sci-fi story from 1995 that won both the Hugo and the Locus award. So tiny it is (just over 4k words) that I’ll say no more. Go read it.
I hope you are—just as I was—blissfully ignorant of the following quote and the game it portrays, for, if that’s the case, you’ll probably end up—just as I did1—with a day-long smile on your face. I mean, isn’t this something2?:
Nomic is a game in which changing the rules is a move. In that respect it differs from almost every other game. The primary activity of Nomic is proposing changes in the rules, debating the wisdom of changing them in that way, voting on the changes, deciding what can and cannot be done afterwards, and doing it. Even this core of the game, of course, can be changed.
The Paradox of Self-Amendment, Peter Subler
Wikipedia, as usual, is a great intro to the topic. 1 I’m riffing the structure of this paragraph from Matrix’s Morpheus memorable quote: “Neo, sooner or later you’re going to realize, just as I did, that there’s a difference between knowing the path and walking the path.” Did you got that before I told you? Is there someone out there as linguistically disturbed as I am? 2 That beat comes from this other article, interestingly, on luck. |
| Born too soon | 2 0 0 6 |
Mar 31 |
The review itself is long and, though interesting at times, overall not that good, but there was a quiet, demure paragraph in it that kept me laughing the whole (did I say it was long?) review. Today I reread the paragraph in my notes and I’ve had a smile in my face ever since. This one’s a keeper:
| Nostalgic | 2 0 0 6 |
Mar 11 |
Para Erasmo, que un dia como tantos pero ya algo añejo, platicando sobre mi preferencia por la ciencia ficcion y la suya por la magia y la ficcion historica, me suelta un repentino “todo tiempo pasado fue mejor”—puñalada en la espalda para alguien como yo, irremediable optimista y tecno-utopizador de futuros.
El texto dice:
“Vamos a la mitad de la hora nostalgica, llamenme anticuado, pero realmente siento que ya no es tan buena como cuando empezamos.”
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