February 20th, 2008


(no subject)

Which is/are acceptable?

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(parenthetical comment, plus smiley! :)

If you have to pick just one...

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no smileys in parenthesis!
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Several of you have been curious about how I identified my troll (*wave* Hi, Rosie! I see you're still reading through dakotakym's friends page! Having fun?), so I want to write a little blurb about the tool I used, with thanks to spike, who pointed it out as a fun toy a few months ago: It's LJToys (http://ljtoys.org.uk/) and it allows you to see who's reading your journal, how they get there, what their IP address is, etc.

I initially found it a little disconcerting quite how much information can be gathered about me from my web surfing habits, but now, I'm glad to have a sense of the sorts of information that pretty much anyone can have about me, with little or no work on their part. It is, in fact, a fun little toy, with, in my case, a nice side effect of confirming a suspicion I've had for a while. If it's the sort of thing you might enjoy, check it out.
shadow past

(no subject)

I like to imagine what it might have been like to live in a time when major natural events would stand as some powerful sign from the great intentionality beyond day to day reality. The drama of a thunderstorm is so moving, even knowing that it's "merely" an electrical storm, what might it have been like when it was an unexplained event?

Tonight, though, I'm reminded that being moved happens in spite of scientific reserve. Listening to people walking by on the path -- "Oh, look at it!" "It's so beautiful." -- and standing out in the cold watching the moon looking so familiar while also foreign, both fragile and immense, I imagine I can have a foot in both places.

I love that we've been so blindly arrogant as to fly people to that distant, shimmering rock, even while I am appalled at our wasting our brilliance on such a distant dream, when just think of what that our imagination could do here, where we are.

Still, standing on my back porch in the sharp cold, listening to the quiet of night, I can't be sorry to know what we know, or that people have been there. And, still, and all, it somehow manages to be both mysterious and magical.