rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Must Distract Myself

At one point, the world arranged moon and clouds and pines to form a perfect backdrop for some splendid event which never took place, as far as I know. Maybe it took place somewhere nearby while I was unaware. Maybe I was supposed to supply the splendid event myself and failed to do so. Maybe the backdrop itself was the splendid event. All I know is that the screen of branches and needles softened the moonlight so that I could look straight at it without squinting, and the clouds refracted the light to produce shades of color for which I could find no names. A flock of birds were flying, their calls faint, high where the air was even colder than here amid the slow, soft croaks of earthbound frogs. For a moment, the scene appeared to be about to mean something. If it did come to mean something, I never figured out what it was.


A bunch of linked things:


I stumbled upon something called the American Buddha Online Library which, despite (or because of?) being devoted to an eccentric species of that particular religion, is in fact a rather eclectic site filled with bits and pieces of literature, music, movies, philosophy and Goat knows what else (I haven't had time to explore the whole thing_from all over. Much of it is stuff I wouldn't have the time to download, being on dialup (I noticed, among other things, excerpts form Terry Gilliam's movie "Brazil"), but there's other stuff as well. Pictures, in particular, which I always find pleasing (screen caps of scenes from "Black Orpheus!") There are indications that the site is a project of cyberlawyer Charles Carreon. How does he find the time?


I also stumbled upon a
picture of a green woodpecker posted (at the site StumbleUpon, oddly enough) by a guy from Leiden, Netherlands. I've never before seen a green woodpecker.


Then there's Bruce Eisner's computer deal of the day! I wish I'd found that last year.


Too much stuff on teh Internets!
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 1 comment