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Sunday, September 30, 2001

 
Unsatisfied with the combination of Jala and Onewa. I have added them to a large Throwbot, Blaster. The result is not completely satisfactory, but was adequate to inspire this tableau:


Sunday, September 23, 2001

 
I ended with a spare each of Jala and Onewa. Their combination was inauspicious:


Saturday, September 22, 2001

 
I'm happy to report that I have acquired examples of all six Happy Meal toys this morning. You are happy to know this.

 
What a beautiful portrait of the Blue Team.

Friday, September 21, 2001

 

Thursday, September 20, 2001

 

 

Tuesday, September 18, 2001

 
Rearranged my office today (Many, many wires. So many boxes of stuff!) and I think the new camera emplacements are better.

 
The transparent eyeballs in the Turaga head can be a bit unnerving (unretouched photo):


Sunday, September 16, 2001

 
Cool robot claw from Scotland.


Friday, September 14, 2001

 
Our office moved to new digs. I was among the last to go to the new office.


Thursday, September 13, 2001

 
Moved the Irish Pipers Club page from the defunct Wolfenet server to a Geocities address. Wolfenet's successor company (RMI, formerly RockyMountain Internet, no wait, Internet Commerse and ... to hell with it) completely clustered the dial-up part of the business when they sold it to Earthlink.

 
Saw the recent Planet of the Apes at a matinee. Reeks of Contractual Obligation. It was right purty took at, though. The score left no impression except for a Mars-like riff that accompanied an image of Saturn which left me disoriented.

 
I quite like this image:


 

Wednesday, September 12, 2001

 
This sentiment can be hard to live up to:


Tuesday, September 11, 2001

 
I had to make an appointment to donate blood because all the centers are completely swamped with donors. If you can donate, you should. This was true before the attack, but is especially acute now.

Although there has been plenty of talk on CNN about where the blame lies, until there are some verifiable facts, we simply don't know. The only possible response to this is to act through reason and clear thinking. Vengeance is not only dangerous and pointless, it's impossible.

Blowing up some remote compound, just to make a point about policy will not be sufficient. There must be a response, of course. It should be measured, just and practical. Althgough we will feel anger, we must not act or decide ou of anger. We have to make our stand through our good works.

My personal form of retaliation will be to continue working and thinking how to build a better world as best as I can. That there are people so aggrieved, mad and inhuman enough to do what was done today will simply have to be accomodated in my efforts. I choose not to let this astonishing act of hatred drive me to hate. My revenge will be to love.

Saturday, September 08, 2001

 

Is a Crab

Scene at the drive through at McDonald's:
She hands me the happy meal box. "Is the toy for a boy inside?" I ask.
"I don't know," she says. (What she actually said was "idoannoe," so that it rhymes with "Ivanhoe," but close enough.)
"Could I have a toy, please? For a boy." I feel that I will soon be trapped in a Dr. Suess-like hell of my own creation.)
"No girl toys. It's a crab." (Her completely charming accent rendered this "Ees a crrab.")
My confusion disappears. I now know that, if there is in fact a toy in the box, it's the desired Lego. I peek in and can just make out Onepu under the chicken nuggets. I bade the late-night window farewell.

The lesson is clear. Lego, even in Bionicle form, is not identified very closely with gender, at least in comparison with Mattel's "Micro-Divas," the unavailable girl's toy. But what Bionicles actually are supposed to be is not very apparent even when you're looking right at them. "Crab" is as good a guess as any.

It's a lobster! It's a chicken!

Friday, September 07, 2001

 
A Happy Meal toy. It's a Bionicle villager. They also accomplish their (yawn) goals through cooperation and appreciation for their indivi ...



And here are some happy villagers now. No doubt they are going to work together or something.

weiners

I hope nothing bad happens to them on the way back to their village.

something bad

Oh well.

parts

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Brickshelf: Scattered to the winds

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