As Above
Brain children. Those that overlap the Internet.
The improvised card game.
Blog Twinning Project
Democratic blog-pairing.
TV Misguidance
Reconstituted TV listings.
Other Listings Magazine
With hilarious consequences.
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.
Sore Sites
Will Self
Feeding Frenzy
Will Self
These Were Your Father's
John Hegley
Incidental music. Ohrwurmen or otherwise.
Other weblogs. The ones I make a point of reading, at least.
About as Funny... AngryBlog The Blast Blue Ruin Crummy Digital Trickery Epiblogue Found Groke Icarus Says Inside Joke Interconnected Life as it Happens LinkMachineGo Orbyn Peace Dividend Qwertyuiop RavenBlog Somnolence Sore Eyes Venusberg The View from Here Wherever You Are

(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 Zarba
Weeks beginning. All having ended.
This Year
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 10.09 17.09 24.09 01.10 08.10 15.10 22.10 29.10 05.11 12.11 19.11 26.11

20.11 27.11 04.12 11.12 18.12 25.12

Archive search. You never know.

M Night Shyamalan is apparently working on a film about crop circles, at the moment, intriguingly. While on a vaster and less mysterious scale, some Australian finished a four-million square metre portrait out in the Mundi Mundi Plains, this week. Behold a new, bleached-tile morgue for the ever-mounting piles of Exquisite Corpses. And an archive of super-powers for the game of Rumble. Busy busy busy.
Segway. Segue. A very, very slow one. I've a suspicion that these sorts of things will only ever work properly in a peaceful, beramped utopia, or in Portmeirion. That these wheeled Zimmer-frames will only get the chance to revolutionise inner-city transport if there's absolutely no private ownership of them, if people simply abandon them outside cafés and libraries and shops, and pick up new ones when they leave. Or if their user-ident system is rigged with highly localised explosives. Both fairly unlikely, as society stands.

The Segway site gushes a bit of smoke and mirror about the things being quicker than walking, but those fin-de-siecle metal scooters were quicker than walking, and I don't remember them conquering the world, particularly. And they were cheaper and far more portable than this lawnmower-of-the-Daleks, whilst only looking marginally more stupid. All kudos for industrial niche applications and sheer billionaire gimmickry, but ech. I'll stick with my variable-speed intuitive-control hijack-proof legs for now.

(C) Kevan Davis 2000-1.