Alpha: And I’ll give you guys my frequent-flyer card so you can go into the lounge at the airport when you go to America.
Gamma: Yay! Do they have cool music in the lounge?
Alpha: Erm…
Gamma: And disco lights?
Alpha: Not really.
Gamma: Drinks? Cool sofas?
Alpha: Well, beverages. Sofas, yes.
Gamma: Pff. No music? No lights? What kind of lounge is that?

Cultural awareness

bug12-1.gif bug12-2.gif bug12-3.gif bug12-4.gif

Originally posted 30 January 2004


Long weekend. Four days melt together in my mind. Random images:

  • Up at 3.30 on Easter morning when Gamma’s alarm clock unexpectedly rings. Alpha catches it before it wakes Gamma. We stay up, hide eggs, baskets in back yard. Go back to sleep.

  • Gamma wakes us up at 7.20 Easter morning with report of finding baskets, eggs, presents.
  • Leaning against sink, drinking coffee, wondering where the night went, listen to conversation between Gamma and her mother. “I feel sorry for people without children on Easter,” Alpha says. “Yes, like Aunt X,” Gamma says. “I wonder what she’s doing? Sailing or playing golf?” “I’d guess playing golf,” Alpha says.
  • Drive Gamma and her friend to what I will call Gemstone World, a theme park devoted to a certain gem. Multi-media exhibit. Gift shoppe. Tour, including a look at the vein of the gemstone underground. Alpha asks guide, so, the jewelry in the shop is all made from gems dug here? No, he says, they would fall apart. Which explains the theme park: how else to earn money from worthless gems? I pay

Feral Living Archive

Just for the record, in case any historians are interested, finally got the old Feral Living Archives moved to this server. The archives date back to when I started it in 1868, making it the oldest blog in the world, to my knowledge.

Images didn’t survive the move, however, and I can’t be bothered to fix them.


Mig: [closes book gently] …and so that’s how geysers work. Okay kiddo, lights out.
Gamma: [reopens book and points at picture] What if you were standing there?
Mig: You wouldn’t want to. It’s boiling mudpots. You know, bloopbloopbloop.
Gamma: [Laughs] I like how you say that. It sounds just like boiling mud. Do it again.
Mig: Bloopbloopbloop.
Gamma: Hehe. What if you were standing here, then?
Mig: Boiling mineral-laden water would rain down on you and you’d be cooked.
Gamma: Uh-huh. So where does God come from, anyway?
Mig: ["God was always there," goes through his head] Ehm…
Gamma: Grandma says God was already always there, but that doesn’t make any sense to me. God had to come from somewhere.
Mig: Dude, look at the time. I have to go clean the kitchen.

I felt bad about running away from an interesting discussion. But seriously. We would have been talking for hours. I’m still trying to figure out the answer to that question.