Remembering Birds in the Nighttime

While going through some of my archives last night, in full-on Reminiscence Mode, I came upon a couple of old posts that are actually still pretty good. Take a look at this one: Had It A Minute Ago.

It’s more than two years old, now, but if you’re new to the site, it’s new to you. An excerpt:

This is why I should keep a notebook by the bed all the time. A notebook is actually a bird cage, a little brass bird cage, where you can lock up any starlings you catch between your cupped hands during the night.

I’d completely forgotten that I wrote this one, but I think it still works. For sure, though, the thing that it’s about? Still happens to me. If you’re a writer, I’ll bet it happens to you, too.

Thousandth

Honestly, I’m surprised that I’ve only written a thousand posts in the last eight years, but here it is: #1,000. Because a variety of things have me reminiscing, right now, and because the other 999 posts don’t get much play after the week they’re posted, I thought I’d take a short tour back through some of the back catalog here at the site, to see if I can’t entice you to go digging through the old posts, to see what’s old and what’s aged, like wine… and what’s turned to vinegar.

Then I spent an hour going through old posts and realized, hey, that’s a shitty idea. The archives are full of me being wrong about all kinds of stuff, and right (really right) about just a little bit. So instead of that, I’m just going to link you back to post #1, and offer you my back catalog of cringe-worthy hackery.

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LOST: Recon

As usual, if you want a genuine recap, you probably won’t do better than Lostpedia’s coverage of this week’s episode. I found this one light enough on subtext that I didn’t expect to have much to say. Then I wrote 1,300 words about it. Shows what I know.

Spoilers are the smoke thing.

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Tags, Comments, Go!

Took a half hour today to revise some of the category and tag management on this old blog, and moved comments around so that maybe they’re within easier striking distance near the end of posts. I’ve been told by prolific web users and knowledgeable designers that expecting people to scroll back up to the top of a post to comment is unrealistic, and I’m finally putting that lesson to use. (I’ve dabbled with these changes before, but have only now come up with a look and placement that I can live with.)

While writing this, Pandora has given me Fatboy Slim’s “Weapon of Choice.” You can go with this or you can go with that, indeed.

Something I won’t be doing: going back and adding tags to the 998 (as of this writing) existing posts here on the site. Some of them were tagged in previous lifetimes on Blogger and WordPress.com, but there’s no time and little benefit to re-tagging those posts, so I’m not doing it.

As it is, I’m pretty sure I only added tags so I could make the kind of tag jokes that John Hodgman makes on his imitation blog-like device — the same sort that are common on Twitter. Totally worth it.

Technofromage

I wrote this over on Ficly, last year. I’m posting it here just to keep it on file somewhere within reach. Enjoy:

“Eat this. It’ll activate after about 30 minutes.” She holds out an irregular wedge of a waxy hard cheese, vat-grown for sure. It makes him think of clean, white linoleum.

“There’s what, like, nanites in there?” he asks.

“Let’s just say ‘an active ingredient.’”

He shakes his head. “Tell me.”

“It’s a chemical agent and active biological culture that’ll interact with your, you know, your brain.”

“So I eat this thing and I’ll speak Mandarin?”

“Among other things — heightened immune system, increased agility and empathy. Basic viral delivery for a personal systemic boost. Oh, and memories.”

“Memory enhancement?”

“Installation.”

“Oh,” he says. “Because, right… of course it would give me memories. Whose memories?”

“Just prefab.”

“That’s more normal.” He points at one of several gray flecks in the wedge. “What’s that?”

“It’s a fucking nanite, all right? A cluster of nanites. Eat it or we can’t go.”

He takes the wedge, puts it in his mouth, chews, swallows.

“Now let’s talk side effects,” she says.

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