August 22nd, 2005


Nocturnal Cervidae

The deer came back. I was on the porch shortly after midnight when I heard the soft click of hooves on the street. The moon was high in the southeast, and the pavement was swept with swaths of pale light, but I had not noticed the deer as it passed. I stepped from the shadows to peer around the bush which had blocked my view, but the deer had already found its own patch of shadow. Then I heard another deer following the first. Crouching in the shade, so as not to startle the beast, I watched the ghostly gray form of a doe pass. She was cautious, pausing to look about, then taking a few steps, the sound of her hooves clear in the deep quiet of night.

Then, with a final dart, she too passed out of the moonlight and joined her companion in the shadows. They must have cut across the dark lawn of the house on the corner, because I no longer heard their footfalls, but they must not have gone too near that house, or else the motion sensing lights there would have been triggered. They had vanished from both sight and hearing. I waited to see if more deer were following, but none came. I have seen herds of as many as five traveling together. But I was lucky that these two visited the street while the moon is still fairly bright. Maybe they'll be back tomorrow night.

In the meantime, there are deer at wikipedia.

Running Out

Teh Internets keeps getting bigger, ingesting vast amounts of virtual things. It is insatiable! I am feeding it right now. And whatever it devours, it then replicates and regurgitates endlessly. It blows its digital chunks all over my brain! But while teh Internets grows, time does not expand to accommodate it. If our brains are the environment of teh Internets, the fact that we are subject to the limits of time means that teh Internets faces a sort of Malthusian crisis. Eventually, it will overpopulate our brains, and then it will crash.

Before the inevitable end, here are a couple of chunks it blew at me today.

The Arroyo Seco runs from northeast of downtown Los Angeles to the San Gabriel Mountains, northwest of Pasadena. It contains a mixture of old urban neighborhoods, costly suburban areas, parks in various states of development or rusticity, and the Rose Bowl (among many other things.) Now, The Arroyo Seco Foundation has its own web site, with goatloads of information, historical and contemporary, about this interesting strip of territory.

Something completely different, (via boing boing), is the happy news that there is now safe, effective treatment for your prostitute phobia. Sufferers, behold the promise of hope:
"If you are living with prostitute phobia, what is the real cost to your health, your career or school, and to your family life? Avoiding the issue indefinitely would mean resigning yourself to living in fear, missing out on priceless life experiences big and small, living a life that is just a shadow of what it will be when the problem is gone."
Ah, the wonders of modern therapy! Now with ones and zeros, and accessible at the click of a mouse! How did the world ever get along without all this?

And, in local news, the dusk sky here tonight turned a shade of blue that I am quite sure has never been given a name. If I think about it long enough, maybe I can come up with one.