Librarian asks why I even bothered with Cuil, when Google is so splendid. He’s right: this is the electronic world, and either service is equally close or handy or convenient. What matters is simply which one works best, and the vote here has to go to Google, because, as I found, Cuil doesn’t even work.
One other good service (I assume it’s good, but I can’t use it yet) that Librarian mentions is their new browser, Chrome. Right now, it’s a Windows-only program, and I can’t run it on the Mac. I hope that this is corrected soon. Firefox and Safari are both excellent on the Mac, but one more browser into the mix is always welcome.
Now playing on iTunes: Velvet Road from the album “Geometry of Love (Import)” by Jean-Michel Jarre
The local trees, a few of them at any rate, like the buckeyes, which get leaves first and drop them first, are starting to change color a little bit. They are turning a paler green, in preparation for the yellows to come next month.
There is definitely not the uniform lushness of deep green that there was everywhere in June.
I make a point of spending hours outside, sometimes writing, usually not, in order to store up the feelings for winter, when I will only rush out to the porch long enough to get Sophie inside, or to pick up a few more logs for the fire. I want to remember summer as the natural state of things, not winter. With the long, cold spring we had this year, it’s going to be difficult, but I think I’m up to the task.
Blogging more later… must wake up the chihuahua now.
How Che became such a revered superhero of the hard-core left is laughable. First of all, he wasn’t even a good revolutionary. He failed in his attempt at world revolution almost as badly as communism has failed in the places it was actually tried.
“This is a history of a failure” is how he himself described his efforts in the Congo. He was killed in Bolivia, trying to fire up another failure of a war. Earlier, he even managed to drop his gun and shoot himself in the face.
Due to the plethora of American bimbos in early 1960′s films from America, I didn’t know that women then could actually be beautiful. But I want my hair like that, even if it is too short right now. Gives me something to aim for. It’s the feathery little bangs I’m talking about.
Peter introduced me to the movie. He is currently a great fan of the “Nouvelle vague” in French film, and ponders why so many of the people involved are dead already. If anyone cares to comment on that one, fire away.
He also said that the dance scene in this movie is the best dance scene in cinematic history. He’s only 22, so he can say things like that. But offhand, I’d agree with him. The dance is called “The Madison,” in case you were wondering. Both Peter and I want to dance like that now.
My menfolk have installed the Christmas tree (aka the Hanukkah Bush). They do it properly every time! What more can I ask? Then spent much of the rest of the evening doing non-technical things like sitting in front of the fireplace, eating ice cream. And showing Buck how to use YouTube. So, not too typical of a holiday scene, but there it goes.