As Above
Curriculum vitae. Oh yes.
HTML format or Word
Throw me a job, someone.
Brain children. Those that overlap the Internet.
The improvised card game.
Blog Twinning Project
With its stoney bridge.
The Foldover Game
Blind communal prose.
The Surrealist Link
You are the spikiest moth.
Back on the Orion Express
Interactive fiction.
Generic Nomic Data Tracker
It's a Nomic thing.
Two-Word Guestbook
Sign it.
Online cliques. Trespassers may be welcome.
Stem-cell fiction.
Hate the Stupid
Because we do.
Mornington Crescent
In outer space.
In the bookpile. About to read, or currently reading, or meaning to take back to the library.
The Shadows of Sherlock Holmes
David Stuart Davies
Imaginary Magnitude
Stanislaw Lem
Richard Fortey
Darwin Among The Machines
George Dyson
Incidental music. Ohrwurmen or otherwise.
Icarus Airlines
Lunar Man
Other weblogs. The ones I make a point of reading, at least.
AngryBlog The Blast Blue Ruin Bullet Through the Brain Crummy Digital Trickery Epiblogue Found Groke HumanLint Icarus Says Inside Joke Interconnected Life as it Happens LinkMachineGo Orbyn Qwertyuiop RavenBlog Somnolence Sore Eyes Venusberg The View from Here Wherever You Are Yao's DOT.Home

(Updated UK Blogs)

Supporting cast. That have Web pages. In alphabetical order.
Alice Chrissy Dan Dave Dunx Eperdu John Lori Nik Paul Raven Riana Sandy Simes Tracy Tyrethali Yao
Weeks beginning. All having ended.
20.11 27.11 04.12 11.12 18.12 25.12 01.01 08.01 15.01 22.01 29.01 05.02 12.02 19.02 26.02 05.03 12.03 19.03 26.03 02.04 09.04 16.04 23.04 30.04 07.05 14.05 21.05 28.05 04.06 11.06 18.06 25.06 02.07 09.07 16.07 23.07 30.07 06.08 13.08 20.08 27.08 03.09
Archive search. You never know.

"John, you just about crashed into the Empire State Building! Hey, that would be cool." - Microsoft take a few bits out of their Flight Simulator game. [via zx64]
Good things at DayPop, resolving the classic problem of search-engine dustiness by frequently spidering news sites and weblogs to keep up with current events. Only a matter of time, I trust, before Google implements such a gubbins as a search-option. Three-minute-silences and the Day of Silence seem patronisingly insulting for anyone over the age of seven, harking back to the schooldays when teachers felt they had to tell children to sit and be quiet and think about some tragedy or other, because they wouldn't have done otherwise. Is it really that absurd to take private contemplation and mourning as read, at a time like this?
A shady but intriguing claim that the over-used footage of cheering Palestinians is actually archive stuff from ten years ago. Even if it's not, it's still a lot of rage-inspiring hyperbole for some astonishingly minimal and context-free footage. It scares me how much of the recent opinion poll results have been shaped entirely by television. [via Raven]
Face of Satan spotted not once, but twice, in the smoke clouds above the collapsing World Trade Centre. Time to call in Quatermass and bomb Hell, I suppose. [via Quin]
A somewhat predictable but superbly-written article from Richard Dawkins in the Guardian today, on suicide bombers and the elephant of religion. That if the death of a martyr is genuinely seen as a "hyperspace button to another universe", it makes for a rather terrifying world. Sobering angles.

(And there's a bit about pigeon-guided missiles.)

Something Jon Snow said while the BBC were busy speculatively-interviewing London firemen - why wasn't there any coverage of the initial hijacks? Government suppression to spare any cheery "terrorists steal planes, heading for Manhattan, may be suicide bombers" headlines on the half-eight news? And did they shoot that fourth plane down, or not? Much conspiracy fuel. America's over-eager sabre-rattling and waving of laughable evidence almost suggests confused disappointment that a random terrorist agency hasn't improvised a confession yet. I worry.
Knocking the World Trade Centre down with a hijacked passenger plane only seems a stupefyingly obvious thing in hindsight. Except that the X-Files people thought of it a while ago. Conspiracy ahoy. [via qwertyuiop] It'll be interesting to see how the "no distinction between the terrorists who committed these acts, and those who harbor them" trick works if it turns out to be those pesky American terrorists again. (Well, it won't be interesting really.)
"I, as we've already established, am in my head. So, that's a torso, arms and legs occupying a cranium (Is it even fair to call it my head, now? It's not part of me, any more). How can one fit all that inside a skull? It must be either a really large container, or very small contents."
Reading up on other stuff for distraction, Raven's early-morning consciousness boot-up has gone horribly, horribly awry at Upsideclone.

And Victor writes "Back on the path the bind weed turns my head, a beautiful Keefian trumpet on a stem of strangulation." over at the Clown, which is the best sentence I've read in ages. Bindweed is easily my favourite plantlife - a glorious showpiece of evolution, of merciless, unthinking beauty. Weeding seems such an arrogant thing to do. We'll lose in the end.

It all seems too vast and symbolic to have really happened. We are sickened by the feeble, inescapable fate of those trapped and waving from the higher windows, can imagine the rising realisation of the hijacked passengers, but as the camera pulls back and the window columns blur to pinstripe, it becomes unimaginable. An entire town shuffled and restacked into the sky, to be demolished at a stroke by its society's own toys, steered to destruction by four people with knives. If only we'd had giant missile-defence laser robots! Feh.

It felt like the cliff-edge of apocalypse - that there could be another crash-landing, and another, and a figure with subtitles declaring war or madness through our television screens. The world still seems to be here this morning, but with Bush making "no distinction between the terrorists who committed these acts, and those who harbor them" and seeming more like a teleprompter-reading gibbon than ever, it looks like we might be in for another world war after all. Humanity. Bah.

More or less everything by Kevan Davis.
As Above is part of the Uncertain Organisation.