Tyler is an angmoh kid—a Caucasian living in Singapore. He has lived in China and the US as well (I think he’s American by birth). He’s blond, cute, and can speak Mandarin, English, and Singlish!
You don’t believe me? Watch this!
Tyler is an angmoh kid—a Caucasian living in Singapore. He has lived in China and the US as well (I think he’s American by birth). He’s blond, cute, and can speak Mandarin, English, and Singlish!
You don’t believe me? Watch this!
…I rediscovered this clip from George Carlin about the little things in life that are funny. If I said, “Have you ever found yourself in a room and you don’t know why you went in there?” it wouldn’t be funny. George Carlin could read the telephone book and he’d be funny.
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Freemasonry, I admit, has its secrets. It has secrets peculiar to itself, but of what do these principally consist? They consist of signs and tokens which serve as testimonials of character and qualifications, which are conferred after due instruction and examination.
These are of no small value. They speak a universal language and are a passport to the support and attention of the world. They cannot be lost so long as memory retains its power. Let the possessor of them be expatriated, shipwrecked or imprisoned; let him be stripped of everything he has in the world, still their credentials remain, and are available for use as circumstances require.
The good effects which they have produced are established by the incontestable facts of history. They have stayed the uplifted hand of the destroyer; they have subdued the rancor of malevolence and broken down the barriers of political animosity and sectarian alienation.
On the battlefield, in the solitudes of the uncultivated forest or in the busy haunts of the crowded city, they have made men, of the most hostile feelings and the most diversified conditions, rush to the aid of each other with special joy and satisfaction that they have been able to afford relief to a Brother Mason.
Worshipful Brother Benjamin Franklin, 1778
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…and many happy returns of the day!
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When I was in middle school, I had my first same-sex sexual experience (my first sexual experience as well). But homosexuality wasn’t discussed. In fact, I suspect that most of us, gay or straight, wouldn’t have known what the word meant.
Things have changed. God, have they changed! I am so envious of the kids who not only know what homosexuality is, and who know they are gay or lesbian, but who also come out at school, and are allowed to do so.
Thank goodness for the people who fought for lesbian and gay equality years ago—these advances would not have happened without you!
I had given notice at Quantime in New York to move to Market Facts in Chicago. While I was serving out my notice, both Quantime and Market Facts asked me to go to Phoenix to do some work there with a client who was having some problems with a Quantime product. My first time in Phoenix (and, so far, my only time in Phoenix). It was a few weeks after the Episcopal Church’s General Convention had met there.
I remember that the evening we got there it rained cats and dogs (which is out-of-the-ordinary for Phoenix, I think). So I went to the client’s office building, which towered over most of the rest of Phoenix (I won’t say who it was but it is a big company—gold faucets in the Gents’, and so on).
I was sitting working at a computer terminal and looking out over the city while I worked. On the horizon I saw what I thought was some sort of cloud in the sky. However, as time went on it seemed to get closer and closer and turned brown. I asked the client what it was and he shrugged and said, “It’s a dust storm. We get them from time to time.”
Some dust storm. It moved rapidly toward the building and, suddenly, the entire skyline of Phoenix had disappeared into a brown haze of dust and dirt. This continued for a few minutes and then, as suddenly as it had arrived, it departed.
At that point I swore never to move to Phoenix. I guess I’ll have to say much the same about Sydney—although, to be fair, our former flatmate Wyn MSNed me this morning and said that it had never happened before in his experience.
I’ll probably still give Sydney a miss (except for a long-hoped-for sightseeing trip).
Polygamy happens in many societies; polyandry in relatively few. If you’d like to hear why women shouldn’t be polyandrous, but it’s OK for men to be polygamous, read this article. But if you think I would agree with it, please don’t.
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…but for how long, only $DEITY$ knows.
…and many happy returns of the day.
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I’ve been very remiss about recounting what’s going on around here…my bad. So spank me…please!
HWMBO is now in Singapore. He’s been there for a couple of days, visiting his parents and our friends. He’ll be there for 2-1/2 weeks. So I shall be pretty lonely. Any of my Singaporean lj friends who sees him out and about should say “hi!”.
I’m not totally alone, though.
I myself am still struggling through with my foot ulcer and diabetes. The air boot is very bulky and a bit heavy. Yesterday I went out to central London to do some shopping at computer fairs. The main one that used to be at Jury’s Hotel has moved up north of Goodge Street. So I turned up at New Oxford Street and missed out on a tricycle taxi ride up to the new site. I walked it. The map they gave was seriously out of scale. Then I walked back down to New Oxford Street, which was mobbed. Because of people who would not walk at a normal pace nor get out of the way, I nearly missed a number 1 bus back home. So I was in a foul mood by the time I got home.
I made a “Hearty Chuck Wagon” soup from a recipe I got via email. I will tell y’all if it’s any good—
Went to bed at 11 pm, forgetting my statin pill. So I woke up around 2 am and thought, “Why am I awake?” When I remembered that I hadn’t taken the pill, I came downstairs and took it. This morning, however, I woke up at 6 after not having slept very well, and when the day had penetrated the fog, realised that I was having a hypo episode. So I came downstairs and tested my blood—it was 4.4 (normal is 4-6 but 4.4 is low for me). I had a small glass of orange juice then ate breakfast somewhat early.
Today is the church’s Patronal Festival. I expect that it’ll be dire as usual. There is a barbecue after church in the Rectory garden, but I always skip these as the food is fat-laden. Next week is Back to Church Sunday, but I’ll be in Manchester visiting my friend Nicky next weekend, so won’t be here.
…LiveJournal syndication seems to be working again. Hurray!
The “Family” section of the Grauniad had two articles that I enjoyed this week. One I have already written about. The other is called “A letter to…” and I think that
I read the “Family” section of the Guardian each week. As it deals with parents, children, and grandchildren mostly, you wouldn’t think that it would be of much interest to a gay man. However, I suppose that I am a son and brother (not an uncle, unfortunately), so I find it very interesting and a compelling read.
This week there is an article about Philomena Lee and her search for her son, adopted out against her will when she gave birth “out of wedlock” in an Irish convent.
I don’t know whether you will, but I know that I did shed a tear upon reading it. The Irish Roman Catholic church has many things to answer for: the Magdalen Laundries are but one example of the cruelties that were visited upon Irish Catholics by the priests, brothers, and nuns in the name of religion.
Oh, and there is a gay angle to it. Read it and find out.
…and many happy returns of the day.
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As
I am seriously annoyed at this.
I kid you not, this English breakfast is free if you can eat it in 20 minutes.
As they say, “A moment on the hips, a lifetime on the hips.”
Only, in this case, the lifetime could probably be measured in minutes.
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So farewell, then/Henry Gibson;
You used to be
in Laugh-In.
We’d sit there and watch you
with your flower and your line
“A poem…
by Henry Gibson”
But now you’ve recited
your last poem.
And we can say that
you’re now on “Laugh-Out”.
by E.J. Thribb, age 98-3/4
Another blog entry! It never rains but it pours.
I have been using Thunderbird for a few weeks now. I’m pretty well used to it, and found only a couple of things annoying. I found the solution to one annoying thing today, hurrah!
When an email with images in it is opened, unless the sender is in my address book, Thunderbird, “to protect my privacy”, asks me whether I want to show images. Well, MailWasher Pro protects my privacy pretty well, so I’ve been putting all the senders in my address book.
However, some senders vary their email addresses with every email: one information aggregator emailer, for example, gives an email address of, say “mail.asdflkjhqweriouyasdjsdflkjh@…” one time, and “mail.cxbmnsdfgljhxmnzxlasdflihjxbmnvz@…” the next. The random character part is varied each time. Thunderbird was asking me to add each one of these “addresses” whenever the aggregator sent me an email. I was quite annoyed.
There is, however, a way to tell Thunderbird to always show images, but they don’t want you to do it (and blame them for any privacy violations, I suppose). I discovered it and changed the parameter, and lo! no more questions about showing images.
A small victory, but a very useful one for me. Now to try to get it to contract subfolders after I move an email into one.
Today I was interviewed by a market researcher cum ethnographer. You may remember that a month or so ago I was filling out a questionnaire on my media habits, as well as keeping a diary of what I was watching on TV, listening to on radio, or surfing online—I left out the naughty bits of that. Well, a few days ago I got a phone call that they found my diary so interesting that they wanted to do a more in-depth interview in my home, for which I would receive a honorarium. Well, in my current unemployed state, honorarium was music to my aures, so I agreed. The interviewer came to the house today and we spoke for three hours, most of which conversation she was filming and recording.
She was a young lady who seemed a bit disorganised. When she came to the door I asked her for ID, since she was someone I didn’t know who was going to be in the house. She had no ID. She scrabbled through her bags for a business card, which she failed to find. After a few minutes she offered a credit card with her name and her company’s name on it. I accepted that, and hope that she’s learned her lesson. She sat on the sofa and got her video camera adjusted.
She was quite interested in the house—she asked many questions about my favourite places in the house—did I enjoy my easy chair in the living room more than sitting at my computer? What kinds of TV shows did I watch? Why did I only listen to BBC Radio 4 among the UK radio stations on offer?
In the middle of the interview Daring Squirrel came to the window for her lunch. The interviewer was surprised when I started feeding the squirrel, and filmed that along with everything else.
At the end of the interview I went through the channels on our internet radio: everything from Radio 4 to Radio Australia and Radio New Zealand, with a large number of US news radio stations in various cities and WKCR and WQXR in New York. She put her camera together again and recorded me talking her through the radio.
Afterwards I reflected about the questions she asked me. I find it difficult to believe that there is anyone else in the UK whose media habits are like mine. We hardly ever watch BBC or commercial terrestrial television. I use the iPlayer for radio, but rarely or never use it to time-shift programs I’ve missed. I listen to internet radio stations that couldn’t be heard here over the air. I read the Grauniad …er… Guardian, the Economist (when Royal Mail deigns to deliver it), Private Eye, the Church Times and New Scientist. Not your usual reading material, to be sure.
As for my online habits—since the advent of Twitter and Facebook, my online activity has changed utterly. I used to blog relatively frequently, even if it were only a blog entry titled “Today’s XXX URL:” where XXX would be something funny, or sad, or notable for the day. Nowadays, I tweet such things, and they appear in my blog only when my Twitter aggregator publishes it there at the end of the day. I follow Facebook, republish non @-directed tweets there, and generally keep up with people in that space. I occasionally (but not as often as I used to) use MSN or Yahoo! Messenger to communicate with people. I read my Live Journal Friends page every day. I keep up with emails and email lists, but don’t reply to the lists as often as I once did.
What does this all mean? Am I weird? Out-of-touch? Not acting my age, but acting my shoe size? (Size 9 UK/10 US, if you must know…)
It is very telling that she was relatively uninterested in my iPhone, although she filmed it. She was quite interested in our wireless Skype phone and our various computers. I am very surprised that she wasn’t interested in the iPhone, as I believe that the iP(hone/od Touch) will be a major delivery venue for the media of the future.
She asked me what the BBC or TV in general could do to get me interested in watching TV again. I thought for a long time and said, “Nothing, really.” As for the license fee, I said that it has made the BBC complacent, fat, and sassy. The best thing for the BBC would be for the license fee to be abolished and the BBC have to support itself through advertising or subscription fees (easy to collect when all terrestrial TV broadcasting is ended and only Freeview, Virgin, or Sky carry the BBC). I know that’s not a totally popular view, but most of the BBC output these days is aimed at the lowest common denominator in British society. Since everyone pays the license fee, there must be programs for everyone from the booboisie to the monarchy—which are sometimes the same—and from academics to illiterates.
Yesterday I listened to Sir Terry Wogan on Radio 2—since he’s about to retire, and is a British Institution, I thought I ought to listen at least once. His program segu
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Thanks to my friend dancingintheholycircle for this video. My maternal grandmother was from Nova Scotia, from the town of Lunenburg. She was an Acadian, one of the French-speaking community which makes Nova Scotia so vibrant. I loved this video, even though I have never been there. There’s no “Visit Nova Scotia” caption, no URL, but the beauty of the scenery tells me that I really need to go.
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It probably won’t remain free for long, but the NY Times has a story about Patrick Kelly, who was unemployed and at loose ends. So, for a year, he’s going to take suggestions from the public for challenges, and do one a day.
Some people think this is a waste of talent. I say: this guy is a genius, and the book he’ll be able to write at the end of the year will be a doozy.
…and many happy returns of the day.
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