Saturday, September 7, 02002
Crabber nets snakehead in Inner Harbor.
"Of all the 28 species of snakehead, the giant has the sharpest, longest most developed teeth," he said. "It's the one fish I know that kills more fish than it eats. It's the one reported to have attacked and killed a human."
(Seems like every searcher hitting this site is look for snakefish content. The sad thing is most of them are hitting some little VI post from back in March for some reason. I think I've got some feedback loop action between the search engines and the referer sidebar block. Oh well, all part of the grand experiment. Eventually it'll die down, even if this post does make it worse for a bit longer)
Posted at 02:04 PM EST [Link][Comment]
Friday, September 6, 02002
...a candy store
Posted at 07:05 PM EST [Link][Comment]
Thursday, September 5, 02002
Today when I got to work, I didn't have my wallet. I thought I left it in the car. No big deal. At lunch time, it wasn't in the car. OK, I left it home. No big deal. I get home and I'm opening the mail in the elevator. There's a letter from some jeweler thanking me for my business. Weird. No wallet in the apartment. Then it dawns on me. I am screwed.
Hopefully the jeweller has a record of the transaction. I am definitely poison now. The hot bubbly Union Carbide kind. Put your hazmat suits on, dear readers. This may get messy.
Sheepish Update: Requested a new debit card, corporate credit card, changed all my passwords just to be safe, spent most of the evening on hold and then, yes, well um it's that kind of a day, noticed the thank you card from the jeweler, well it wasn't actually addressed to me, per say, there's no apartment number on the address, and the last name really does look like mine, but it's actually to "Mr Mcgarvey", ahhhh, which led me to search the car a little harder, and I found the wallet. New car - I didn't know all the places a wallet could hide yet. It really is pretty uncanny how much the Mcgarvey looks like Nagurney. The postal people must get some special training on reading bad writing so they could match the g's and y;s like that.
Al Johnson of Bailey Banks and Biddle, get thee to Kate Gladstone, handwriting repairwoman. Kate's magic is very strong. Very strong indeed. She will fix what's ailing you. Kate, by the way, is also a master of library science, which doubles her magic in my book.
Posted at 09:08 PM EST [Link][Comment]
Capitalism will not buy you safety.
"In the end, the business of business is not to make the country secure," said Ivo H. Daalder, a Brookings Institution scholar who has analyzed terrorist risks. "The business of business is to make the shareholders rich. That's the dilemma we face."
More of business'
unwillingness to pony up
But the Salt Lake initiative faltered. Agency officials lost confidence that it (some crackpipedream of a surveillance system -jude) could be quickly implemented, according to people familiar with the process. One of the vendors complicated matters by expressing concern about its legal liability for making a mistake, according to an e-mail obtained by EPIC.
Liability for mistakes ? Of course ! The market has to be able to punish poor performers, no ?
I guess its better for business if it just waits for the post-attack government bailouts...
Posted at 08:00 PM EST [Link][Comment]
Go ahead, taste me ! For today I am made of poison. Bad day at work today. No pie for me. Especially no potato pie. So stay away ! Shoo ! Shoo ! Shoo ! One more Wigu before jumping back into the fray: "I require fresh spinach" I love it. That always cracks me up. Fresh spinach. Ha ha.
Posted at 03:44 PM EST [Link][Comment]
Wednesday, September 4, 02002
General Motors is killing the EV1.
Customers protest. Hurray customers.
Go buy an Insight. Never go back to General Motors.
Posted at 02:06 PM EST [Link][Comment]
A random act of kindness: pie delivery
Here are the rules:
- Sneak up to designated home
- Put down pie (in a safe a spot as possible)
- Ring the bell
- Run!
- If you are caught, explain politely what you are doing, then slowly walk back to the vehicle
Other random pieness: Little Jack Horner and live bird pies.
Posted at 12:53 AM EST [Link][Comment]
Sunday, September 1, 02002
For a while in the mid 1930's, the Catholic Worker Movement had a commune called Maryfarm (or sometimes Maryknoll) in my hometown of Easton Pennsylvania. I tried to find it today, but without much luck. Apparently it's going to take some real research to locate. The site'll probably just end up being a housing development by now, but I'd still like to know where it used to be.
I've sent out a request to Marquette University since it looks like they have all the data I need. Unfortunately none of it is online.
(By the way, Young Dorothy was quite the hottie, and at least one of her letters would be feel right at home as a diaryland post.)
Update:I found the farm. It turns out my dad and aunt used to go to school with some of the Maryfarm kids, from the group that appartently bought the farm after Dorothy Day sold in in 1955.
The kids used to walk to school from the farm site on Morgan's Hill, wearing backpacks, walking in a line like ducks. Other kids at the school would make fun of them, since apparently no other kids were wearing backpacks in the 1950's, and because they had to walk to school, and apparently didn't have electricity.
One family living on the farm at the time was the Christophers, the other was the Smiths. One of the kids, Peter Christopher, was a year ahead of my aunt in school. My aunt said he was really smart. There is also supposed to be a Christopher from the farm buried in the local cemetery. The plot is marked with a simple wooden cross.
At one point, my great-grandfather donated a baby carriage to the people living on the farm because they had small kids, and he thought they might need it. He pushed it all the way down to the farm by hand, I'm guessing a distance of about three miles. The next week he saw they were using the baby carriage to transport old newspapers on trash day instead of using it for the youngsters. Apparently he wasn't too happy.
A lot of other Easton references are in "A Friend of The Family - Mr. O'Connell is Dead" There's also some verbage from "House of Hospitality" about the school I went to up to the fourth grade:
Most of the Catholics in Easton are industrial workers and it is very hard to keep the church and school going. The high school building is not large, but every inch of it is utilized for class rooms and library, and during the vacation months, Sister Edith allows the unemployed young men who are graduates of the school to hang around the building, use the library and have a special room for themselves to congregate and smoke in.
Posted at 12:29 AM EST [Link][Comment]
