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2004-04-19 12:48 a.m.

an oasis of horror in a desert of ennui

mumble gumbug

Man, I try to update this thing at least once a week, but sometimes it just doesn't happen.

I've pushed Iraqi blogs in here before, but I want to take a moment and ask you all to go read this one just now. To be able to get such good information on what's going on over there without it being filtered through the media and the government, from a native, in such elegant and thoughtful prose, is invaluable, in my opinion.

So, my grandmother has cancer (not the one who was in the ICU a few months ago) and is asking everyone what they want of her stuff.

My brother has a broken hip from a failed backflip attempt.

My sister just got back from France, and we're hoping she won't have a seizure this time when she goes to get her blood drawn.

As for me, despite disliking my job a little more every week and finding myself more confused about my relationships than ever, I'm doing alright.

I've thought about how to describe the Decemberists, and here's what came to my mind:

"They use guitars, and sometimes an accordion, and they write songs about dead babies, French Legionnaires, and your mother is a whore."

That's all I got so far. Go check them out.

Enfer ou Ciel, qu'importe?
Au fond de l'Inconnu pour trouver du
nouveau

Which reminds me-

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 23.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.

And the winner is...

Il cherche à y suppléer par la recherche formelle, et l'obscurité précieuse, qui lui ont valu de nos jours d'enthousiastes admirateurs.

Runner up, from the nearest book in English...

It's a vertical wind tunnel.

they'll never reach the moon,

greyarea

(at least not the one that we're after)

Diaryland