<i>I tried, so many times, to write a little something about the <i>Stereophile</i> pepper and golf-coins, but could never get the ideas to grow, could never get them to drop in the hole. See here how Kristina handles it, while kindly declining our CD case (and CDs, in general).</i><br>
—SM
Ed Quillen asks a big question that Congress ought to be asking in the rush to protect property rights.
Huckleberry does some aggressive grooming on Bagheera. It looks cute, until you notice her exasperated expression. Usually, this is a prelude for a fight; this time it turned into synchronized napping.
The <I>Archimedes Palimpsest</I> suggests that the canny philosopher understood infinity not just as heuristics and mystics, but refined and defined down to the last line. Nearly two millennia before the Calculus—eureka indeed.
Scientists in Malta are excited about what they're learning from a mummified duck-billed brachylophosauruses. The pictures are fabulous.
Kelli's never been too happy with my orange Ikea couch. After all, she has her opinions on what a couch should be. First and foremost, obviously, a couch should be comfortable. Aiding in the comfort of a couch, Kelli tells me, are things like arms and backrests and cushions made of soft fabric. All of these things work together to provide a soothing place for resting one's head and supporting one's legs after a long, tiring day in the office. My couch, however, lacks these things. To a certain degree, I'm proud of my couch for maintaining its individuality — its unwillingness to conform to society's standards of what a couch should offer and be. My couch is a rebel.
This just in:
Jon Iverson sends along this deeply meaningful site, commenting, "Fun for hours!"
The <I>Oxford University Press</I> announces the top 100 nouns in the English language. Guess what's first? Heck, guess what the first 10 are.
<i>Initially, I thought it'd be a good idea for Kristina to create a weekly blog entry, to be posted each Friday. Kristina, however, has already written two entries, too good to be held onto. And, I think to myself: "Why hold her back?"