farewell doctor spock

I was saddened by the news yesterday that legendary actor Leonard Nimoy had died. Dr. Spock was always my favorite character in the old Star Trek reruns when I was a child.

I actually met Nimoy twice when I lived in California. It's not uncommon to see celebrities out and about in Los Angeles so it becomes ho-hum, but seeing him in person was a personal thrill. Once was in a bookstore, and he asked about a book I was browsing through. The other time was outside a movie box office when he asked whether a movie had sold out.

A New York theater friend told me before I moved to LA that celebrities prefer being treated like ordinary people when they're out in public, rather than being pestered by fans, so that's what I did. I just acted like he was a nice anonymous person. He was incredibly sweet both times.

He died as the result of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease caused by smoking. In his later years, he warned repeatedly about the dangers of cigarettes. Hopefully some people will now quit because of his example.

After all, Doctor Spock would want you to live long and prosper.

dangerous drilling

This is one of those posts that isn't really as disgusting as it sounds, but it's a good cautionary tale for anyone with longer hair who works with power tools.

A 27-year-old mother of four was working at home in the Czech Republic with a power drill when a few strands of her ponytail were caught in the bit. The result was horrific: the skin on the entire upper half of her head was ripped off, including scalp, forehead, eyebrows, and eyelids.

She did not lose consciousness and was rushed to hospital. Doctors and plastic surgeons were able to reattach everything in nine hours of surgery.

Now she has a surgical scar around the entire equator of her head. Presumably she will have further cosmetic surgery to hide the scar, which isn't as bad looking as it would sound.

This article has some explicit photos and a video, but again it sounds worse than it looks (but don't look if you're squeamish). I bet that was painful as a bitch, though.

I remember reading several years ago about how some Americans in the 17th through 19th centuries survived scalpings by unhappy natives. Those unfortunate people, however, had no plastic surgeons and miracle drugs to help them, but somehow they managed to pull through.

google nanny strikes again

Blogger, which is owned by Google, has notified bloggers that in March they will "no longer allow blogs that contain sexually explicit or graphic nude images or video."

I don't know how this affects me because I don't know what their review process will be. It might be casual and they'll only act if they've had complaints.

I'm not a porn blogger per se in terms of images and movies here, unlike the true porn blogs I've seen, so I might still be okay. I do have some small images with certain posts that might be considered hardcore, but they'd had to spend a lot of time here looking to find them. I don't use their image service, so that might work in my favor, too.

The bottom line is that I don't know what will happen, but I'll keep blogging until they block me. If that is the case, I'll move over to Tumblr and leave everything here, which will be accessible to anyone who asks for it.

It's a stupid move on Google's part, but I'm hardly surprised. They bought Blogger some years ago but never seemed to pay much attention to it thereafter as a possible revenue source with advertising.

If you're not already subscribing to my Tumblr page, now might be a good time to bookmark it. I have posted thousands of erotic and explicit photos there in the past six-plus years. If this one goes dormant, I'll add text posts over there because I'm a blogging junkie by now.

If this blog is blocked, you'll need to know how to contact me in order to request access should you wish to see any of it in the future. That contact information will be on my Tumblr if my Blogger journal is no longer publicly accessible.

supremely annoying

In the last few months, I've noticed an increase in a particular variety of dishonest popup that falsely alerts you to a supposed virus on your system. You're directed to call the entity responsible for the annoying popup and pay them to remove this nonexistent virus.

One typically encounters these popups on some adult, torrent, and file sharing websites. (I've linked a harmless screen cap for reference.)

A variation on this scam opens a new browser window or tabs open a new browser page. To add insult to injury, a popup blocker and a rigorous anti-virus package will not stop any of these because they exploit a browser vulnerability.

Most of these can be dismissed by simply closing the popup. So they're annoying but harmless.

A more recent and more virulent version cannot be forcibly closed. It freezes the browser so you must manually crash the program by using Windows Task Manager. Earlier on, I was able to selectively force the fraudulent tab closed via Windows Task Manager, but now the shitheads responsible for these have exploited another browser weakness to defeat this manual override.

I suspect the culprits behind this are somewhere in the third world, specifically Russia, because of the way they mangle English in the fake "alert." They're obviously targeting North Americans, but the popup apparently will appear anywhere in the world; that's why I'm seeing them in Australia.

No doubt if you call the American toll-free number it will ring somewhere outside of the US where a con artist will attempt to scam you out of a credit card number in order to "fix" this bullshit.

While I'm personally opposed to torture, I believe exceptions exist at times. The shitheads who created and are running this scam deserve to be hung by their balls until they're castrated.

Of course, I could avoid this by not visiting adult websites, but I'm not willing to go all puritan.

oscar yawnfest

Many critics have given a thumbs down to this year's Oscar show on Sunday night, and I share that sentiment for the most part. The program was too long and draggy, although it had some definite highlights. I watched parts of it while cleaning the kitchen and baking muffins because the live broadcast is on at midday here in Australia.

For the most part, I was not impressed with the female stars' gowns. (You can see some of the biggest names at a glance in this fashion recap.)

Most of the women's outfits looked like variations on the same few, tired themes we've been seeing for the last ten years with a slit and a train. It's time for some new trends.

I didn't like Rosamund Pike's Givinchy dress, although a lot of fashion critics praised it. She's a stunning woman, but I think the gown's cut did not flatter her. It also did not appear to be very comfortable, because I saw her squirming and adjusting it several times in red carpet outtakes.

Scarlett Johansson in Versace also received a lot of praise but, again, I vote thumbs down. She's another beautiful woman, but her outfit made her seem too butch. The hairstyle looked like a crew-cut from the front and that necklace resembled a clump of seaweed.

I thought Cate Blanchett's dress and necklace were beautiful, but the back of the gown was the wrong look for her. It made her appear to have an old woman's hump. And her hair and makeup looked somewhat Halloween freakish to me.

On the whole, I thought Emma Stone and Sienna Miller looked the best with fairly simple, elegant dresses that didn't seem overly designed and unnatural. The gowns flattered both women nicely without anything garish or gimmicky. And they actually looked comfortable, unlike many of the outfits that were worn.

lost languages

I read something recently that mentioned how certain indigenous languages will die out in the next decade or two. These are all oral without a corresponding alphabet or written tradition.

The trend was referred to as a "tragedy." This is not the first time I've seen this sort of commentary about dying languages, and a quick Google search turns up hundreds if not thousands of similar sentiments.

Call me a clueless philistine, but I've never seen a convincing explanation why this is such a terrible calamity. Earth has an estimated 7,000 languages, and half of them may be dead by the end of the century.

Would the world become such a terrible place if all humans ended up speaking only a handful of languages in the future? What is so awful about people from anywhere on earth being able to communicate easily with each other?

A great many problems in history were caused by human barriers like religion, culture, and languages. If one of those barriers is lowered, specifically language, how can greater communication be a tragedy?

Not everything from the past is necessarily worth saving. Not every telephone book or snapshot or shopping list or whatever is a fabulously important relic. I'd argue the same for human babble.

If 7,000 languages was whittled down to seven and eventually down to two or one, I'm not seeing that as a gigantic catastrophe for human cooperation and communication.

grandpa loses his shit

This video was made last week and features a 92-year-old man in Wisconsin who had a very long senior moment in a supermarket parking lot. It's funny in some ways and not at all funny at the same time, because someone should have taken away Grandpa's keys long before this.

I've personally witnessed two elderly people have car accidents (no one was hurt in either), and the one below seemed somewhat odd to me. In the two accidents I saw, the oldsters lost control, then had a mishap, and the show was over.

Once things went out of control, in both cases, they stopped pretty quickly. Both happened when I lived in California. In the first one, an old man went the wrong-way down a one-way drive at the post office and sideswiped a mailbox. He stopped right away.

In the other accident, an old lady miscalculated her turn and drove over a lawn into a bank parking lot. She brought the car to a stop before hitting anything else.

In the video, in contrast, Grandpa just keeps going and going like the Energizer Bunny. It looks more like a road rage situation, where he just went "fuck it" after hitting the first car and decided a demolition derby was in order.

Whatever the answer, I hope he will not be driving any more after this.

benign hypocrisy

In my political beliefs, I am strongly in favor of democracy founded in equality. I think an aristocratic system and a monarchy are fundamentally undemocratic and should be a thing of the past. I guess that makes me a typical American.

At the same time, I love movies like Remains of the Day and TV shows like Downton Abbey. I've also enjoyed well written novels set in these worlds.

When I traveled to Europe before I was married, I visited many stately homes in the UK as well as chateau in France and palaces all over the continent. I toured the important cathedrals, but the lavish estates were my primary sightseeing destinations.

I'm trying to figure out if this makes me a hypocrite -- disliking the idea of aristocracy but loving the glamour of that world. Or should I just embrace it, because all of us have our inexplicable dichotomies. Maybe it's a form of benign hypocrisy; it exists but it's harmless.

sex-crazed day

I have noticed with my last three or four ovulation cycles that around the time I should be most fertile, I've also been outrageously horny. It's a period that lasts about a day and a half each month.

I suspect this is Mother Nature telling me that I've reached the ideal time to conceive. I haven't discussed this with my MD because it's not like I need any remedy, but that seems the most logical explanation to me.

I've just come off one of these cycles again and am mellowing out to my usual self. But two days ago I just could not stop thinking about sex.

The husband was not working on my last sex-crazed day and came home after picking up some auto parts to do a repair job. I put down our son for a nap and could not wait for James to pull in the drive.

No sooner was he in the garage and unloading his purchases, I practically sexually assaulted him right there. He was happy to comply, but needless to say, the auto repair job was not even started.

Guaranteed, it's not like I don't think about sex when I'm not in this cycle, but I'm not obsessed and crazed with it like I am during that roughly day and a half period. I usually can wait until night time for our regular romp, except during those times.

It's not like I'm complaining, and James isn't, either. I am making sure, however, to keep the calendar clear for when the next sex-crazy day is due in about four weeks.

It's curious that I haven't experienced this before the last few months, given I've been off the pill for several years now. And, hopefully, this will get me pregnant again soon.

crazy lady chic

Julia Roberts is appearing in new print ads for Givinchy which are now running in high-end lifestyle magazines like Vogue and Vanity Fair. IMHO, every last one of the photos they're using are unflattering.

In one, she's wearing a sort of dark sheer chiffon getup that makes her look like an aging showgirl on break. In another, she has on a mannish suit in a mannish pose and looks like a lesbian lawyer.

In the one I've used below, she's wearing a matronly dress and holding her handbag like she's afraid you'll grab it. Her face in every one of the photos is grim and dour and her hair is slightly messy.

A star of Roberts' power would have complete photo approval before any of these ads saw the light of day. (Some stars even have the right to demand the photographer destroy any image he or she does not like so it can never be reproduced.)

So why did she allow a picture that does not make her look attractive? In all candor, I think she looks a little mentally unbalanced in the photo below, like a public mumbler who will suddenly shout at you for no good reason or attack a perfect stranger with scissors.

To add insult to injury, I think the purse is just downright ugly. It looks like a camera case or something for carrying a piece of scientific equipment.

Fashion magazines are filled these days with models who seem like they want to be as unattractive as possible: messy hairy, bleak makeup, dark lighting, dour expressions, ill-fitting clothes, awkward poses -- you name it.

The goal seems to be: make the woman appear as unattractive as possible.

the village clusterfuck

Sometimes I learn the most amazing things on the Internet. Take the example of Baarle-Nassau, a village in the Netherlands near the border with Belgium.

Unlike most borders between two countries, the line in this part of the world looks like it was designed by chimps with rulers. Inside the Netherlands village are isolated little bits of Belgium, some as small as a half block, entirely separate from the main part of Belgium.

To make matters even more complex, even smaller parts of the Netherlands are inside these small bits of Belgium, which in turn are inside the large part of the Netherlands. Countries inside countries inside countries. The Belgian parts inside the Netherlands parts also have a different village name, which is Baarle-Hertog, and the same for the Netherlands bits inside the Belgian bits.

So a short walk down the street in one direction could mean you end up walking across the Belgian/Netherlands border a half dozen times in the span of only a few minutes. The result is that a single building may actually be in two different countries. And, yes, each country's part has a different language.

The place is like an alternate reality puzzle: one charming little village with two different names is concurrently in two different countries with two different languages. This is not two countries laying claims to the same territory; this ridiculous mess is the result of a joint treaty.

To assist visitors, markings all over the village indicate in which country one might be at any particular moment. Fortunately, the locals all seem to get along. I imagine that's because this bizarre border configuration brings a lot of tourists to town.

I definitely want to visit Baarle-Nassau a.k.a. Baarle-Hertog some day.

the collaborators

I read once that the measure of a good photograph is whether the subject makes you want to learn more about the people shown and their untold stories. That's certainly the case for me when I look at this circa 1944 picture, taken in France after liberation from the Nazis.

As you may know, French women accused of collaboration were forced into public streets and squares to have their heads shaved. Afterwards, they were often marched around while civilians jeered and spat at them. Supposedly, some 20,000 to 25,000 women had this done to them.

Many of the women were prostitutes who passed time with the German men. Others were more "conventional" women who ended up in relationships with the occupiers for one reason or another.

One can imagine some women did this so they or loved ones could survive while others did it out of loneliness and some even for love. The heart often acts illogically and irrationally, so one arguably cannot help falling in love with someone, even if it is the occupying enemy.

Little has been written about these women because the punishment today is usually seen as arbitrary and sexist and no one left alive who endured this wants to shame herself again. Their stigma would have lasted as long as they had no hair or moved away from where everyone knew them, so why stir up painful memories so many years later.

If they left the place where they were shamed and ostracized, one can imagine some were mistaken for liberated internment and work camp prisoners. If so, some may have even welcomed this confusion and exploited it.

In all honesty, I like the fact that these women are stoic while their heads are being shaved. By doing so, it lessens what their tormentors are attempting to do. I wonder how many of the men who cut the women's hair had blemish-free wartime records and how many had something of their own to hide. In focusing attention on others, they drew it away from themselves.

very expensive snapshots

I clicked through a web ad and landed on an online auction of various snapshots and doodles made by Andy Warhol. I suspect he'd have a good laugh at how obscenely priced anything he once owned or touched has become.

If the photos hadn't been taken by Warhol, I don't think you could get a dime for them in a thrift shop. But since they are associated with him -- even though none of the photos are signed -- people are already bidding on the Christie's website.

IMHO the most ludicrous is a three photo set of an umbrella. The bidding as of this writing is $6,500, not including a hefty 25 percent buyer's premium and sales tax of nearly 9 percent.

Or you could jump into the bidding for a picture of Warhol's lunch, which is currently at only $3,000. He must've had to pee a lot, considering all those beverages.

I'm reminded of an auction that happened sometime after Jackie Kennedy died. Her most mundane and ordinary personal effects were sold. One price that stuck in my head was a stack with about a dozen of her old magazines that sold for more than $10,000.

I wonder if, in several decades, whether the people who buy such things will realize much from their investment if they try to sell the stuff.

delicious coffee

If you are a Breaking Bad fan, you'll recognize his voice at once but you may not place his face at first. It's amazing to me how much he's changed over the years. I think the hair is why; it disguises him.

Some men age in ways that almost completely obscure their youth, while others still look much like they did decades earlier. The last time I saw him, my father looked nothing like photos I've seen of him in his twenties. Yet my husband looks much the same now as he did twenty or even thirty years ago, based on the photos of him I've seen.

happy valentine's day

I hope you and your honey bunny have a wonderful and memorable Valentine's Day. It's so nice that it falls on a weekend this year. Here in Australia, however, we do not have the three-day holiday like back home in the States.

My husband's brother and wife will be babysitting the little one for a bit so that James and I can have a little out-of-town getaway. We're driving down the coast for a few days to explore some of the national parks I've not yet seen.

It will be nice having some lusty romps in the hay without worrying about waking the child.

adventures in self-amputation

A news story from China reports that a teenager chopped off his own hand to "cure" his Internet addiction. Doctors were able to reattach the hand and, if full or partial mobility returns, his attempt at a self cure will be for naught.

At least the time away from the computer while he recuperates might help him with his addiction.

The Internet can be a major time suck if you're not careful. I don't know if technically it would be an addiction in medical terms because there would be no physical dependency, but it certainly could be a psychological addiction.

When I left home at sixteen and worked full-time, I had a crappy old PC and passed some of my free time online because I was trying to save as much money as possible. It was either that or read books from the library when I wasn't chasing after some guy.

I soon recognized that I could waste an awful lot of time online if I wasn't careful. So I made a rule for myself: I could not spend more than 90 minutes a day online and/or goofing around on the computer. If I violated that rule, I would endure a punishment of some sort that I concocted, which was usually no internet at all the next day.

I've pretty much stuck to my self-imposed rule ever since. I don't actually sit there with a timer, but I do jot down what time I sat down to use the computer and then keep an eye on the clock. When time is up, if I haven't been interrupted already (which is usually the case), I simply close the browser and that's it for the day.

Now I realize this is an exercise in self-control and not everyone will succeed at this. But it's a very simple system if you can force yourself to follow your rule, and it keeps you from getting caught in the cyber time suck.

As for the Chinese teen, at least he wasn't a sex addict who decided to sever the organ that was the root of his problems. I don't want to know if there are any guys out there who have tried that drastic measure.

marriage proposal

I've often thought the spectacle of a public marriage proposal is sappy. I guess that's because I'm somewhat cynical by nature and suspect they're mostly staged. They've already agreed in advance, so it's just a foregone conclusion.

I've always wanted to see one where the potential groom makes a big deal out of it. And then the whole endeavor is a gigantic and spectacular flop.

I don't how whether this is real or not but it looks like it to me. If not, they went to a lot of trouble for a hoax with musicians in the mall and so forth. Either way, I have to hope this has happened more than once to fools who deliberately exposed themselves to public ridicule.

If you really love her and want to spend the rest of your life with her, you don't have to extort her into saying yes by embarrassing her. Asking her privately won't put her on the spot.

star trek schlock

I saw these two stills online from one of the earliest Star Trek movies and couldn't help but notice the rather mediocre job that was done sewing their costumes (right click to enlarge). These would all be custom made for the film, of course, so a crowded sweatshop can't be blamed for the results.

I would think they'd have a better quality sewing machine on the Enterprise. Or maybe everything is sewn by robots and you just can't get good android help in deep space.

You'll notice in the first still that the back of his costume is puckered and lumpy at the seam near his neck. And the good doctor's tunic has that amateurish homemade look with the irregular collar and a seam that doesn't meet neatly. That's not an easy collar style to make and was beyond the skills of its maker.

I wouldn't be surprised if some of the do-it-yourself costumes made by die-hard Trekkies don't show better seamstress skills than these.

double crossed

My husband recently finished Double Cross: the True Story of D-Day Spies, by Ben Macintyre, and recommended it to me. I have to say I wasn't really enthusiastic going in, because non-fiction war books are usually not my cup of tea. But I trust him so I read it.

I was happily proven wrong. It is fascinating, gripping, very funny in parts, and not a war book at all. The author tells the multi-character true story of five key double agents the Brits used to trick the Nazis for many months leading up to D-Day.

The five and various supporting players are a true cast of oddballs: playboys, bisexual women, gamblers, asocial introverts, and above all, fantasists. What I found most amazing was how gullible the Nazis were about the "intelligence" they were being fed and how absolutely brilliant the Brits were in both turning the German agents and devising complex schemes to fool enemy commanders back in Berlin.

Although the outcome of D-Day is known by everyone, the author makes the book gripping by focusing attention on the spies themselves and the danger and jeopardy they faced. It's a very readable book and not at all "dry history." Acclaimed World War II historian Antony Beevor gave it a glowing review when it was published and I can see why.

Macintyre has written several other true-story books about other spies from history and both my husband and I have added them to our reading lists. Readers have generally given them higher praise on Amazon and GoodReads than Double Cross, so that's all the more reason to investigate them soon.

feeling sorry for bobbi kristina

As you've probably heard, Whitney Houston's only child, Bobbi Kristina Brown, was found face down and unconscious in a bathtub on January 31, an incident that mirrors her mother's drowning three years ago. Various press outlets have stated that Bobbi Kristina, as she is known, is now brain dead or nearly so.

Both of Bobbi Kristina's parents had long histories of drug abuse, and a wide number of media sources have reported in recent years that Bobbi Kristina has had the same problem, not to mention weight issues and various alleged family battles. And Bobbi Kristina is worth at least $100 million, having inherited her mother's fortune.

Several of my husband's relatives and I had a discussion over the weekend about whether to feel sorry for Bobbi Kristina or not. Some relatives said they felt sorry for her, while others said they did not, including me.

Bobbi Kristina saw first-hand what drugs can do to you. At some point in her life, she apparently chose to use drugs, too. She had a front-row seat to drug abuse as a child, so any decision to use herself was at a greater information level than many people.

At the same time, Bobbi Kristina had a childhood with financial advantages to a degree that almost no child ever experiences. She did not want for any material possessions.

Personally, I can't feel sorry for someone who has had every advantage growing up and yet royally fucks up as an adult. Yes, her parents probably were rather toxic to each other, so her childhood was not necessarily the proverbial bed of roses.

But there comes a time when you need to act like an adult and accept responsibility for what you do. I'm not a big sympathizer of "poor little rich" girls. I think there are a plenty of people out there in the world who deserve our pity. That generally does not include people who shit in their own nest and then sleep in it.

Does that make me sound like a hard-hearted bitch? Maybe. But I can't help the way I feel. I feel sorry for people who have no power over their predicament. People who had every opportunity to succeed but still fucked up just don't trigger my pity.

the horny primate

The boob-grabber on the right is funny, but the little guy on the left is the one that really makes me giggle. He looks like and laughs like Mickey Rooney.

rotten ink

I cannot understand why a pretty woman would want to do this to herself (the ink, not the buttplug). It's one thing to cover yourself with exotic, beautiful tattoos, but these look like something a gangbanger would want. (Click the picture if you want her to fill your screen.)

She goes by the name Bonnie Rotten in porn, so I imagine this gives her an "identity" to set her apart from the hundreds of other spermdumps on film. I suspect only a man who also is covered in tatts would find her somehow appealing.

In the last few months, I've seen a woman shopping in nearby stores on several occasions who has tattoos on her legs, arms, neck, and torso. She's probably about sixty years old, and the tattoos do not look new.

It would be rude to take her picture and post it here, but she gives me a very good idea of what someone like Ms. Rotten will look like in the future. It is not pretty.

seeing my husband's seducer

Not long after I met my husband James and we were swapping stories of our past, he told me about how he lost his virginity. He was a high school student and was deflowered by a Mrs. Robinson wannabe.

The woman in question was one of his friend's mothers. He dropped off something he borrowed at the friend's house but he was not home. The mom invited him in. One thing led to another, and she got a few drinks into him.

The liquor loosened James's tongue and somehow he admitted he was a virgin because he felt shy making the first move. She offered to remedy that and, boys being boys, he was relaxed enough by the booze to consent (he was of legal age in Australia).

The deed was done, and he returned to her house a few more times for follow-up lessons. The instruction ended when he starting boning a girl his own age.

Several years later, he ran into a mutual friend of his and Mrs. Robinson's son. Turns out, she had deflowered more than just my husband, including the mutual friend. No one knew if the son ever found out.

I've always been curious about what the Aussie Mrs. Robinson looked like. Finally, the other day, I had an opportunity to see her. By chance, because she had such a distinctive name, I happened to find an old picture of her from about ten years ago, more than a decade after she had seduced my husband but still in the prime of middle age. My husband said she looked much the same but with a different hairstyle.

She was not like I imagined. I was expecting something along the feline lines of a glamorous Anne Bancroft, but her Australian counterpart looked timid and naive, not the sort of woman I'd expect to serially seduce high school studs.

My husband said his seducer was a fortyish widow at the time of the big event, so she undoubtedly was sexually frustrated and sought a willing outlet. She probably understood most teenage boys would say "yes" without much coaxing.

And I can't blame her for making a play for James. I have seen his high school pictures, and he was a heartthrob. As a swim team champion, he had a grown man's athletic body but an innocent, angelic face with big heart breaker eyes.

Not surprisingly, our son has the same big heart breaker eyes. When he gets to be about sixteen, I'll be sure to caution him older babes on the prowl.

mockingbird redux

The very big news in the book world is that acclaimed writer Harper Lee, author of To Kill a Mockingbird, has a new book coming out in June. It's a sequel to Mockingbird, although she actually wrote it earlier. It is titled Go Set a Watchman.

If you know anything about Lee, now 88, you'll know she's only published one novel to date. But speculation has dogged her for decades, specifically about whether she could ever write another book and whether Mockingbird was actually written in whole, or in part, by her childhood friend Truman Capote.

Some media outlets are saying that with publication of this second novel, the Capote rumors will finally be put to rest because
Watchman will show Lee was capable of writing another book. Not to denigrate her in any way, but that's an illogical conclusion. Capote was alive when this other book was written and, sight unseen, it's impossible to know the quality of this second work. Of course, the Capote rumor might very well be wrong, as rumors often are.

That aside, this is still very big news. If you loved the book, as countless millions have, you can't help but want to meet adult Scout and learn more about her life and world. It's like finding Martha Mitchell's sequel to Gone With the Wind or Shakespeare's draft of As You Like It II.

early darwin award contender

We're still early in 2015 but I think this story offers up a serious contender for this year's Darwin Award. If you're not in the know, the Darwin Awards recognize those special morons who manage to kill themselves before reproducing and diluting the gene pool.

The linked article tells the sad tale of an airplane pilot who crashed and killed himself while taking selfies. I only hope that the passenger he also killed was complicit in this self-photographing endeavor.

I've never really quite understood why adults are so infatuated with selfies at perfectly ordinary, uneventful, unmemorable moments. It's not like cameras nor flight were just invented.

Bronte porn

I recently reread Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë's most famous novel. I had not read it in a long while and was struck by the erotic subtext throughout the book, something I'd either forgotten or not noticed before.

If you're not familiar with the novel, the main plot is about Jane, recently employed as a governess at mysterious Thornfield Hall. Soon after her arrival, she strikes up a friendship with Edward Rochester, the brooding master of the house. That relationship blossoms into a heated romance, complicated by the fact that Rochester seems ready to marry shallow Blanche.

Rochester and Jane eventually plan to marry but the wedding is stopped because his great secret is revealed: he's already married to an insane woman. Jane and Rochester continue their romancing but then she leaves to find work elsewhere. With time, the crazy wife commits suicide, and the lovers reunite and marry.

The book never becomes explicit, so it's difficult to tell exactly how close the two lovers actually are before marriage. But I get the sense they were fucking like crazy not long after they became friends, long before the crazy wife is revealed. I would not be surprised if that was running through Charlotte Brontë's head when she wrote the book.

I thought the same the last time I read her sister Emily's Wuthering Heights. There, I think Heathcliff and Cathy consummated their passion on more than one occasion, at least in the author's mind.

The Brontë sisters are often characterized today as proper and chaste virgins, even though Charlotte married and died from pregnancy complications. I don't buy that. I think they were writing erotic fantasy, albeit very subtle and also great literature, too. I would not be at all surprised if, at least mentally, they put their characters in bed together outside of marriage.

Turns out I'm not the only one who thinks this way. With just a few minutes of searching online, I found several fan fiction sites where Rochester and Jane appear in some decidedly steamy X-rated pages.

Stephen Fry goes to heaven

When I run videos here, they're usually silly, but this one is serious. Or as serious as it can be with Stephen Fry. This is an excerpt from the latest episode of an Irish interview show called The Meaning of Life.

This is the sort of video that atheists cheer and believers renounce. I'm of neither camp. I think Fry makes some valid points, but at the same time, I think he makes the mistake of confusing a supreme being with a human being.

There may be a perfectly valid and rational reason why a supreme being designed and condones a world with disease and starvation and genocide. Perhaps this world is only a way station between two others, one worse, and one better. Maybe who we are in this world and what we each suffer may be because of our misdeeds in a previous life.

Because when it comes to religion and a deity or deities, no one really knows anything. An organized system of belief is, after all, a complex set of hopeful beliefs. But never say never because you never know.

eaten by bears

I saw this news item, discussed on an Internet forum, about a woman who fed wild bears and who may have been killed by one of them. This joins other recent news stories about people mauled and/or killed by bears they attempted to feed.

Lions, tigers, bears -- any and all of them can kill you and possibly eat you. So why do people still insist on trying to feed them, to tame them, to treat them like they're house pets?

I don't think it's sheer stupidity, at least in some of the cases. I suspect it's really about inadequacies the people felt and attempted to overcome by feeding wild animals.

For crying out loud, with so many birds and small rodents and other harmless animals who could always eat something if you offered it, feed them if you must, people. Or volunteer at an animal rescue facility to help homeless pets.

I'd be willing to bet, within the year, we'll see another news story making the rounds about yet another idiot who was killed by a bear when the human attempted to befriend it. When will people learn that creatures with big fangs and hearty appetites don't want to be your friend?