Gaelic prayer
I find it interesting that there is no adjective, no modifer for death. Such a simple poem, this, with such intricacies built into its four easy lines that it instantly found a place in my poetry notebook. And yet it continues to amaze me how people dismiss it when they read through, skimming over this tiny poem and moving onwards to the longer and therefore naturally more eloquent pieces.
6:14 PM - link to this -
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Emily says nice things about me and that gives me a warm fuzzy. :-) What's more, it's not just gratuitous nice comments. Sometimes I feel that people are just saying nice things... well, because they think it's nice. By considering and quoting and commenting on specific parts of my site, Emily lets me know that she's read it all, and really thought about it. And that is worth far far more than any nice comments. I don't need people to say that my site's good. I just need them to have read it and thought about it.
Thank you Emily for doing the above and still having nice things to say about the site. And I'm glad that she thought the hosting offer sounded tempting. I was hoping it would be to the right sort of people, and not tempting at all to the wrong sort. :-) That said, there's a place at viscerate.com for Emily any time she wants it. LOL.
5:46 PM - link to this -
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Welcome to Bush Week, ladies and gentlemen, kind of like Orientation Week revisited, except everyone knows each other now, and we still have to go to lectures. Centre-stage feature of this event at college: Murder.
For those (un)fortunate enough never to have experienced this amusing pursuit, it goes a little something like this: You get a slip of paper with the floor, year, degree and eye colour of your victim. In order to 'kill' them, you have to get them alone (without any other college residents) and say, "You're dead". You can't kill someone through glass or in the toilet. And, of course, while you're trying to get someone alone, someone else is trying to get you alone.
It all makes for the most amusing behavioural gymnastics, manic chases, and elaborate stake-outs. I don't play any more, just sit back, watch and stoke other people's paranoia. Oh, and act as official bodyguard for those who don't trust their friends any more. Oh yes, paranoia is alive and well and living in Burgmann College.
5:32 PM - link to this -
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The silence is deafening. :-) Nothing yesterday because the unpleasantly fascist ANU connection went down in a whimpering heap, denying me access to all incoming email and requiring serious first aid before even letting me into university websites. So I managed to get some sleep (still not enough, unfortunately), and catch up on my vegetation. Now, back to the blogging.
5:21 PM - link to this -
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