Random Stuff

Spent the morning re-reading Strangers In Paradise 1-60. Every so often I become a helpless slave of romantic tales of people who can't get their shit together. I don't think that makes me a bad person. One of these days we're just going to have to invest in the final 30. You know. I don't think I'll ever pull together characters like Moore can. Jeez.

I read this blog post on "Don't Talk So Much, You Pompous Windbag" and immediately thought of OTHER PEOPLE. Yeah. (via Lifehacker)

Apple programmers have a sense of humour.

Groove Armada are pretty cool. I'm just never going to be that smooth.

Almost have a True20 Dinosaurs book ready to go. Me, with a book full of dinosaurs. I know, hard to imagine. Rarrr. I don't really know why it is that I love them so much, except that they're TOTALLY AWESOME. Which reminds me, there's this insane bookstore down the street from us (well, about ten blocks or so away, but whatever) that, uh, is insane. And a bookstore. Anyway, this bookstore has the most incredible collection of bizarre special-interest books I've ever seen. Forget about coffee-table books about architecture. Forget about coffee-table books about Arabic architecture. Forget about coffee-table books about Arabic architecture in Morocco. How about a coffee-table book (full-colour illustrations, hardcover, the works) about Arabic architecture in a particular six-block region of Morocco? Or about, say, Art Deco pieces that were on auction in like, January 1935? Or cowboy illustrations by American women artists in the mid-50's? You think I'm making this up, but I'm not. Anyway, that's where I found Dougal Dixon's new book on dinosaurs. It makes me happy.

And thank you, world, for Kahlil Gibran.

On Giving


Kahlil Gibran
You give but little when you give of your possessions.
It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.
For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard for fear you may need them tomorrow?
And tomorrow, what shall tomorrow bring to the overprudent dog burying bones in the trackless sand as he follows the pilgrims to the holy city?
And what is fear of need but need itself?
Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, the thirst that is unquenchable?

There are those who give little of the much which they have--and they give it for recognition and their hidden desire makes their gifts unwholesome.
And there are those who have little and give it all.
These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their coffer is never empty.
There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward.
And there are those who give with pain, and that pain is their baptism.
And there are those who give and know not pain in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue;
They give as in yonder valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space.
Through the hands of such as these God speaks, and from behind their eyes He smiles upon the earth.

It is well to give when asked, but it is better to give unasked, through understanding;
And to the open-handed the search for one who shall receive is joy greater than giving.
And is there aught you would withhold?
All you have shall some day be given;
Therefore give now, that the season of giving may be yours and not your inheritors'.

You often say, "I would give, but only to the deserving."
The trees in your orchard say not so, nor the flocks in your pasture.
They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish.
Surely he who is worthy to receive his days and his nights, is worthy of all else from you.
And he who has deserved to drink from the ocean of life deserves to fill his cup from your little stream.
And what desert greater shall there be, than that which lies in the courage and the confidence, nay the charity, of receiving?
And who are you that men should rend their bosom and unveil their pride, that you may see their worth naked and their pride unabashed?
See first that you yourself deserve to be a giver, and an instrument of giving.
For in truth it is life that gives unto life while you, who deem yourself a giver, are but a witness.

And you receivers... and you are all receivers... assume no weight of gratitude, lest you lay a yoke upon yourself and upon him who gives.
Rather rise together with the giver on his gifts as on wings;
For to be overmindful of your debt, is to doubt his generosity who has the freehearted earth for mother, and God for father.


Damn. I'm just never going to be that smooth.