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Since I arrived here, our IT department has used XStop software to filter the naughty bits out of our workday. The only way it really bothered me was that it blocked the Onion (but left the AV Club unfiltered). I got used to it.

This morning we got an email informing us that they’d switched to WebSense, which has already proven to block nearly all my favorite webcomics, the Onion and the AV Club, IMDB and basically anything they categorize as “Entertainment.”

Awesome!

I assume the guys who installed this software (at the behest of the legal department–liability, you know) have passwords that will let them read Megatokyo; I’m sure they also know that getting around this kind of thing is startlingly easy when one has one’s own website. Then again, xorph.com is still listed as a webcomic in plenty of places. I wonder how long I’ll be able to keep tunneling out?

Update 1317 hrs: Oh, “Entertainment” has been unblocked. Cancel jihad, cancel jihad.

Kelly Link describes her stories as “kitchen-sink magic realism,” which I can understand, because the moment you say “fantasy” people think Robert Jordan and their ears shut down. Conversely, in her own words, “people hear ‘magic realism’ and they think ‘oh, like those Gabriel Garcia Marquez stories where people fly.'” (Everybody read exactly one magic realism story in high school, and that was it.)

Anyway, if I thought I could get away with it, I’d call Anacrusis “Kelly Link magic realism.” Look, it almost rhymes.

For Lent I am giving up my headphones. In addition, I have two places where I can catch a bus home: right out in front of my work building, or a twenty-minute walk away on Bardstown. The buses on Bardstown are faster and more frequent, and I actually enjoy the walk a lot, but I am lazy. I am giving up not making the walk every day. Without my headphones!

The general approach most Catholics I know have toward these forty-day abstentions is a mix of self-denial and self-improvement–I gave up soda several years running, because I like soda, but avoiding it is good for me. This year I’m doing one thing for denial and another for the benefit. It’s object-oriented Lent.

California game update

My uncle John offers a rhyming take on Atlantis, and my mom gently reminds me that of course I didn’t invent the form: both “California” and the game were inspired by a picture book she read us when we were young, called Whose Mouse Are You, by Robert Kraus.

Also, saved from the LJ comment thread:

Will:Where is Atlantis? Under the sea.

What’s under the sea? Not you, and not me.

Well then, where are we? The internet.

How’d we get there? Zeroes and ones.

What do those stand for? Video fun.

What is flypaper?

Me: Sweetness that kills.

David: What can’t be killed?

Scott: Everything dies.

Josh: Why do they die?

William: They run out of time.

Beth: What is time?

Kevan: Memory. [Then, because of a crosspost:] Curse you, time!

Ken: What time is it?

Stephen: It’s hamburger time.

David: Do hamburgers rhyme?

Scott: Not on my dime.

Me: OKAY NEW ONE. What is a curse?

Scott: Bad karma, realized.

William: How is it realised?

Ken: Through the teachings of the Maharishi.

Beth: What is the Maharishi?

Me: A teacher of hunger.

Scott: Where is the hunger?

David: In the bowels of the cursed…

Which seems like a neat place for a cutoff.

How many is seven?

Hey, who wants to come see the New Pornographers open for Belle and Sebastian at the Brown, March 9th? We have an extra ticket that can be yours for the discounted price of thirty dollars. Plus, the band is coming back to our place after the show! That’s a lie! I lied.

A game to play while walking

I call this the California game, but it doesn’t actually have to rhyme.

What is noir? A story about losers.

Who are the losers? They didn’t win.

Who are the winners? The writers of history.

What is a history? Lies that come true.

What kind of words come true? Magic ones.

So for a noir story you make up people who know magic, then write about the ones who don’t.

Your turn. Where is Atlantis?

Gene Wolfe is a curbstomper

I got these new dress shoes a while ago, where “dress shoes” is defined as “the shoes that are not my sneakers,” and man, they are some shitkickers. They’re semigloss black leather with rivets around the lace holes. The soles are like an inch thick with a deep tread, and I’m pretty sure they have steel toes. We’re basically talking about a boot with the calf cut off here. I like them a lot, although the laces are fraying really quickly.

The reason I offer this description is so that I can properly explain what Gene Wolfe’s Book of the New Sun is doing to me. Everybody talks about Wolfe, of course, but they talk about him in the same vein as the SFWA Grand Masters, of whom only Le Guin is interesting. I checked out the Book of the New Sun as a kind of homework assignment, but when I opened it, it commenced immediately (and has not ceased) to kick me in the head. With those shoes.

Segue of brutality and being amazed, the current storyline at Achewood is a masterwork in progress. When I start awarding the Grand Masters of Webcomics, I will hold up one long printout of the Great Outdoor Fight and say “this. This is what you must achieve.” For maximum run-up, start with Ana-Tomix and never stop reading, ever. But seriously, don’t click if you’re squeamish. Achewood is often unkind to squeams.

On my birthday party

To invite you to my birthday party is to hold you in high esteem. If you are reading this, you are a person of discerning taste, and are almost certainly invited to my birthday party. Michelle Kwan is, as previously mentioned, invited to my birthday party; so is Mindy Kaling, neé Chokalingam. Vincent Baker and televison’s Rob Thomas are invited to my birthday party. Maria and I watched P.S. last night, which has restored Laura Linney’s invitation to my birthday party, after a brief revocation involving The Mothman Prophecies. Tom Peterson of LEO Weekly is invited to my birthday party. Kelly Link and Emily Watson are each invited twice.

The obvious corollary is that mere joy or sexual allure are not enough to score an invitation–but being disinvited is not necessarily a slight. Hackers is not invited to my birthday party; it would spill soda on the ponies. M. Night Shyamalan has had his invitation taken away and put in my desk drawer until he makes a movie without a twist. The casts of Arrested Development and Firefly are invited to my birthday party, but only one at a time. We don’t want to lose focus.

The metaphorical birthday party we’re discussing here is not to be confused with my actual birthday parties, which are pretty much just like Tuesday Night Basketball except I get to go “whoo!” and think about death.

Apparently New York’s best bet for a Kentucky Derby winner is named Achilles of Troy.

Give it a minute.

Okay, for non-nerds: if you still don’t get the discrepancy, that’s like naming your horse “Aragorn of Mordor.”