Go forth and waste thy waking hours. I humbly submit these minor trifles as sustenance upon thy path to slack-irvana:

• WIL WHEATON dot NET: “the seat with the clearest view”. The image of him sitting on a soundstage with Susan Sarandon, listening to “Space Oddity” on her headphones, is trés cool.
• A Whole Lotta Nothing: “Childhood memories”. Why don’t we remember our earliest memories? I still have memories from when I was very young, but the weird thing is a lot of my very early memories are mixed in with some very early dreams I had, so now I’m all messed up. (The one where the women has the floating scissors that cut off my arm and the stump looks like bologna is a classic.)
• Gizmodo: “The End of Movies”. One of my beefs with modern theatres: stadium seating. I hate it. I love the feeling of awe that you got at the movies when you had to look up. Looking straight ahead at the movies is just like watching a big tv. Screw the ergonomics — we need more awe at the movies.
• Ponderings and Musings: “Been Assigned Any Modern Classics Lately?”. What are going to be the books being published now that will be required reading in schools and universities?
• Positive Ape Index: “My New Religion: THE FIRST CHURCH OF GALACTUS!”. Seems perfectly reasonable to me. (But heathen-boy here might not be the best judge of religions…)
• eBaum’s World: Bow Man – Flash Game (via User Friendly). There’s something oddly satisfying — nay, can I say, peacefully? — about watching the graceful flight of a virtual arrow as it leisurely soars through the air… and hits an unmoving, serene target. And then the blood flows.
• secretGeek: “How To Overcome GeekBlock”. Tips for geeks on how to get over GeekBlock. May also be used by non-geeks.
• Landover Baptist Church: “Register Your Sissy Boy For Vacation Bible Gun Camp!”. I think the title says it all…
• Ask Yahoo!: “If there is a first-person and a third-person point of view, what’s the second person?”. You look at this link and wonder if it’s worth your time. You debate the time wasted vs. the incremental amount of pleasure it will give you. Then you look at the work in front of you on your desk. You click the link…
• Road & Travel: “The Horror of Blimps”. Really, it just makes me want to get one of those blimps. Which, of course, would last all of twenty minutes in our cat-infested house.
• PvP: “Can I get an Amen?”. Funny comic strip. To a heathen-boy.
• CNN: “Deep Impact probe hits comet”. Lastly, a little bit of joy for the space geek in all of us. This is just too cool.

I just thought it needed to be said.

OK, so we live in a fast-paced, hectic world. We all feel it. The need to be “with it”. The need to be “in the know”. The fear that the if we stay disconnected too long, life will shoot past us like a bullet train on the express route to Kyoto.

But there is a limit. There hits a point where we just have to say, “World — I gotta stop. I’ll get back to you. Don’t worry — I’ll catch up. You go on ahead. Have a scone. I’ll be there in a jiff.”

I know this. You know this.

Some people obviously don’t know this.

Like the guy I drove past on my way home this evening, who was bicycling… across a rain-soaked suspension bridge… during rush hour… WHILE TALKING ON A CELL PHONE.

That guy was so cutting edge, he went right back around to stupid.

It’s Monday morning. My brain is still slow. So I’ll let other people be clever/insightful/wordy for me for the moment.

Let the festival of linking begin!

• 7 year old sees the Star Wars films in “order” and notices a few things… (via boing boing, which had it via plasticbag.org)
• OK, so the article Nerds make better lovers doesn’t stand up under scrutiny — just let us dream, man!
• Fifty Writing Tools — there’s a lot to digest there, but if you have to write a lot — stories, articles, blogs, whatever — these will help you streamline your writing while adding punch to your message
• While there’s lot’s of funny stuff online, nothing has ever made me laugh as loud and as often and as conspicuously at work as Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About. It’s been around for a while, but it should be revisited regularly, like a Chinese restaurant that serves hot and sour soup that is actually hot and sour. In fact, anything written by Mil Millington tickles me to no end.
• “Hi! I’ve got rice in my boobs! Want some?” — of course, the high incidence of beverage elimination via the nose caused by dooce is not to be underlooked. And if ever I worry that I might be putting too much personal information online, she shall be the bar against which I shall measure myself. (Well, that and the anticipated level of displeasure which may emanate from my wife. Which, now that I think about it, is probably a much higher bar.)

So Beth and I are heading home from work and me — like any new blogger coming from a family of obsessives — I’ve got a blog post running through my head.

It’s not complete, but it’s the seed of a pretty good idea. It’s insightful, funny, and actually a little bitter-sweet.

So Beth and I get home, come in the front door, and say “Hi!” to the cats as we head through the hallway to the kitchen. I’m already thinking about giving the cats their suppertime snack, putting some water on for the baby potatoes, turning on the barbeque for the porkchops, thinking to to myself, “Yeah, then I should have about ten minutes, that should be enough time to write some of this post down, oh yeah, this’ll be a good one, I should have started a blog sooner, these thoughts are getting wasted, these insightful thoughts, what’s that on the counter? is there something on the counter, I can’t make it out, I’ll just get closer to get a better look, is that an — ANTS! ANTS! THERE ARE ANTS EVERYWHERE! THEY’RE ON THE COOKIE BAG! THEY’RE IN THE COOKIE BAG! I EAT THOSE COOKIES! ANTS! COOKIES! ANTS! COOKIES! AAAAAAAAAANTS!”

Seems that there was a small crack open by the window just inviting enough for some picnic-partycrashers to start a little bucket brigade directly between the crack and the cookies. They were nowhere else but the cookie bag, but — oh god — were they by the cookie bag. And around the cookie bag. And in the the cookie bag.

Immediately, I’m in disaster-response-mode. I herd Beth out of the kitchen and spend the next hour laying a down a barrage of insect spray, sealing up the crack, cleaning the place up, and — oh yeah — throwing out the damn cookies.

After that, I just didn’t have any “insightful” left.

I eat those cookies, man.