I’ve tried to enjoy schlepping water, thinking that it serves to keep us to some human roots.
Annoyances and upsets with the iPhone 4S have been more than offset by its screen, the silkiness of its surfaces, the camera, and the third-party market for both software and hardware.
After they finished watching the Bond movies, I figured the next series John Gruber and Dan Benjamin would discuss on The Talk Show would be Stanley Kubrick’s oeuvre. But Gruber refused — too personal for podcasting, he said. Disappointed, I rewatched 2001.
Instead of acknowledging the wisdom of leading from behind, the Right jumped on the Obama administration’s handling of Libya as yet another example of at best incompetence. They lost me there.
Steve Jobs we lost at the age of 56; when Frank Lloyd Wright reached that age it was still only 1923, the time of merely his second comeback with Tokyo’s Imperial Hotel.
It’s amazing, given the adulation he enjoyed elsewhere, that the Israeli public knew from the start not to trust this US President.
Nobody from usesthis.com has asked me what my setup us, nor is likely to anytime soon. So I’m just going to mouth off here about it. But first, some background.
On the Leon Wieseltier/Andrew Sullivan spat, Walter Russell Mead seems to want to have his strudel and eat it too.
Defeat in the Olympics bid may focus the mind in the Oval Office where it should be: Afghanistan.
There’s nothing else around here except empty desolate pretty hills. The Israel Trail passes by a bit to the west. It’s a hot July Wednesday morning. Things are reasonably busy. The shops are mostly franchises, almost all homegrown — Super-Pharm, Aroma, Tzomet Sfarim, Cup O’ Joe’s, LaMetayel, Mega, Fox, Castro, H&O.
h, it’s 2:20am and I’m tired, but I gotta write something, right? If I fall off the rails just this once, that’s it, I’ll be off them for good, and this will have been a very short-lived blog.
I’ve thought about writing about Brighton, my new home. About how it seems pretty intense for a small town, full of geeks. About how it’s pleasant for me to be in a British town that seems more 19th century-looking than contemporary. About some of the places and streets I gravitate to. About our wee home here. But I can’t be arsed. I’ve just been reading a bit here and there at Brighton Bloggers and I still can’t be arsed. I’ve looked at Lileks’ Bleats lately and his entries are lame as well, so if the great one can have an off period, then I can as well, right?
A non-entity of an entry. Lileks’ excuse is that he’s finishing off a book. Well, I’m finishing off a web site — does that count? Yawning a lot here. So it’s goodnight from me, and it’s goodnight from him, and I’ll be better at this tomorrow.
Fly the Blag
Reminds Me of Tel Aviv