h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

I'm sitting here in this nutrient bath for our brains we call our "bodies". Mine, as usual, is parked in front of my monitor.

I do just about everything through the computer.

I draw through the computer, and express myself through the visual arts; I play my music through my computer. I write through my computer. My ideas are scattered about the net- bits here and there, always a rough-draft, a work in progress. I rarely re-write what I spew onto the net, before posting it, that is. Generally posts like this one are first-draft, spontanious affairs.

I'm currently in a phase of pulling my ideas together.

Much thanx to all the good people who've befriended me, here and elsewhere, in my struggles through the lunacy of life. :o) Especially Fenchurch- whom I love marvelously! :o) People like her give me hope for the planet.

Or at least for the species. Sometimes it looks like space-technology will eventually evolve from a society which has poisioned it's own nest, and resides deep beneath the surface of an Earth which resembles her sister, Venus today.

I firmly believe that most polluting, heavy-industry should move OFF the earth. There is no reason we shouldn't have electricity piped to us from microwave relays in space. No reason NOT to exploit the resources around us in order the create a standard of living which could be wonderful for everyone.



Blah. Blah. Blah.


My neighbor's son-in-law just dropped off the keys to their house. Seems there's no-one there but Granmama, and she's 90-something, I think. J. D. and Raligh are out somewhere, and they don't want to get granma up to open the door....

I'm also talking to my dad, in Costa Rica, and Sporky on MSIM right now.

*sigh*

"And when I look in my window, so many different people to be..."

That was Donovan. He had one name in the sixties. Like Madonna, or "theArtiste". I know a girl named Laurel who wrote a poetry book, and gave him a copy. He wrote her back with a song he'd written for her. :o)

Laurel is about 18. She's about the same age as Fenny. I had no idea Fenny was that young until tonight. :o) I had just assumed, from her dialog, that she was in her mid-twenties somewhere.

I love you Fenny! Natasha! :o) You are the best.

Sporky is cursing because he can't find the "spiral in" behavior in MS Frontpage. I'm laughing, because I know it's there, but I don't remember exactly where. I'd have to be running the program to find it- and I've not used frontpage in awhile. I've been doing everything by hand, in emacs.

Curse you Sporky! You made me almost LOSE this entry! ;o)

"I am evil Homer! I am evil Homer!"

What does evil Homer do? EVIL HOMER STUFF!

Now I'm truly rambling. Hi, everybody!

Why, hello! Fancy meeting you here! I had a feeling you'd be here, though... my belly - button told me so.

Evil Homer does Evil things like setting his high school diploma on fire while singing "I am so smart, s-m-r-t". Are you SURE you're evil Homer? *sigh* Well, I suppose that's better than being Evil Cartman, who wouldn't swear or anything. He was creepy.

You've got a belly-button that TALKS? Where'd you get such? What else does it come with?

Fancy navels they've got!


I would NEVER be an Evil Cartman. Those are the guys who end up like John Wayne Gacy! NEVER trust a guy who doesn't swear!


da Baron
swears like a sailor!

Of *course* my belly - button talks! Yours doesn't? I'm most positive it does... It was a gift, actually. Best one I'd ever recieved!

I don't ever trust guys who doesn't swear, are you insane? I *do* trust guys who consistently include such terms as 'matey' and 'arrrr' in their renditions of the ritornelle that is verbal ignobility. It's got that sort of secular quality every intelligent, sensible person so loves.