horses'; and you're holding of yours'

[freckles_and_doubt]

Name and shame, I say! The above atrocity courtesy of stv, who sent it to me as the subject line of an email, just to see me twitch. Now I'll have to find the staple-remover to disembed all those painful apostrophes from my flesh.

Because stv has stunned all actual brain power through sheer horror piled upon my already-foggy post-insomniac daze, I fall back upon random linkery in place of an actual post. Also, this has to be done quickly as today's IBurst connection, under the tender care of my personal techno-jinx, is more of an IDribble and may refuse to talk to LJ at any moment. Connectile dysfunction, one might say. If one were driven to not very good horrible puns, which of course I am not.

This is an insanely cute flash game of max simplicity and disgusting appeal. It has a bouncy, over-eager bunny with floppy ears and an adorable leaping function, and bouncy, pseudo-baroque music which will drive you to homicidal distraction within about a minute and a half. If half my female readers aren't both addicted to it and loathing themselves within 24 hours, it's a cold, hard world indeed, is all I can say.

This appealed to the postmodern, self-referential RPG geek in me (i.e. possibly most of me). 'Nuff said.

And, courtesy of a number of sites including boingboing, Kurt Vonnegut died yesterday. Woe. The world can't afford to lose postmodern writers capable of rubbing the nose of serious literary critics in the science fiction genre and making them like it. Besides, I loved his writing - Cat's Cradle and The Sirens of Titan made me laugh until I hurt, or possibly hurt until I laughed.

B5 is at T, although I don't know if it's arrived as I was too stunned by my regular Thursday afternoon's horse-whipping of four reluctant students through medieval romance to remember to go and check for it. My guess is we're moving into the plusses.

Bunny Threat Level: lalalalala! Interesting weather for curriculum advice lately.

Comments

Vonnegut

[(Anonymous)]

I happened to be sitting at the books desk yesterday, so got to find out about the late lamented by overhearing a series of fretful exchanges:
"Oh, maybe Michael Moorcock."
"Yeah, I said him already. He's on the list."
Silence. Twitching.
"Is Ray Bradbury still alive?"
"I *think* so..."
More silence. More twitching. The editor walks by.
"Hey, Roger, do you know Richard Curtis? Can you get hold of him? Apparently Vonnegut was his favourite writer. But he's out of the country."
And so on.
They were of course trying to find someone suitably eminent to write about Vonnegut in time for Sunday's edition. Last heard, after a brief exchange with a "mate" of Geoff: "It won't be the worst thing in the world to have Geoff Dyer... will it?" Pause. "Will it?"

scroob

Re: Vonnegut

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

I'm not quite sure if that's a somewhat sad epitaph on the man and writer (his death causes production angst), or a rather good one (production angst denotes his somewhat uncategorisable status as a maverick and iconoclast).

It won't be the worst thing in the world to have Geoff Dyer. Not that I knew who the hell Geoff Dyer was without a quick Google, but he sounds suitably energetic and himself a bit uncategorisable.

Re: Vonnegut

[(Anonymous)]

Yeah, I thought Geoff would be good too. I think they are resorting in the end to the "get quotes from anyone available" rather than holding out for a proper contribution from one person.