Claire, forgive me in advance, but the logical* T-shirt would be:
I SHOOT FISH.
IN BARRELS OR OTHERWISE.
It's Payback Time.
*I am sometimes very mean to this word, and this is one of those times.
Marilee -- peritoneal doesn't use a vascular access. To be extremely brief and miss a lot of fine points and variations (I can bore to death at long distances on this subject), a catheter is installed through the abdominal wall (outpatient surgery). Then, after it's healed, the peritoneal cavity is filled with glucose solution. The peritoneal membrane acts as an osmotic filter. The fluid stays in for a long time (sometimes around the clock) and is drained and replaced periodically. You do this yourself; you're pretty much stuck in the chair during the change cycle, but otherwise are unattached to anything. The other big advantage is that your system's clean all the time; with hemo, as soon as you disconnect from the machine, the toxins start building again.
End of commercial. And do understand, I really hope you don't need dialysis. All forms suck to some degree, except when compared to the alternative.
". . . but the Bushites hassled him and eventually kicked him out of the rally."
As somebody probably said once, power originates from a pork barrel full of guns.
Hm. Think I'd better print a couple more giveaway buttons for Worldcon.
Marilee -- I'm probably exceeding my exceedometer here, but if it looks like it's going to come to that, look into peritoneal dialysis. It's done at home, without assistance (unlike home hemo, which requires another person). If, as I understand it, you're mainly at home anyway, this would be a lot easier than having to get to a center three times a week.
I don't want to try and sell you on anything (as the saying goes, This Is Not Medical Advice), but your nephrologist will be able to put you in touch with the local resources. You can certainly e-mail me if you'd like to hear about it from the patient side.
Varicella (chicken pox) is minor for most (not all) of the kids that get it. However, the herpesvirus that causes it stays dormant in the peripheral nerves pretty much forever. It resurfaces as herpes zoster (shingles), usually two generations later, so that grandparents unknowingly infect their grandkids. H. zoster is, again, for most people a temporary nuisance, but some patients get postherpetic neuralgia, which can be debilitating, or the ophthalmic version, which if untreated -- well, you can probably guess.
And I'm old enough to have gone to school with kids whose mothers had rubella. It's not something you forget.
"Mr. President, you remember that flying saucer that landed on the Mall? Well, there's a guy in it, and he's got a big robot -- not, you know, Japanese big, but big -- and the robot just disintegrated half the Military District, but that's not important right now, 'cause, he, it, like, seems to have gone to lunch or something. But the guy says he has an important message about mail servers, and he needs to talk to all the leaders in the world. I mean, like, ALL OF THEM. Right now. Do we even have a plan for that? I mean, a plan plan, with kinda grandish strategy and stuff?"
And I would suddenly like to do "How to Tell Rousseau from Voltaire From Quite a Long Way Away," but there's this Worldcon. . . .
That is a . . . somewhat unusual . . . use of "canoodling," unless the specific implication is that Teresa is the one to be persuaded to set up TypeKey.
Yes, I know. The only excuse is that I was working very late last night.
Patrick, I have definitely seen a reference in the Times to Iggy Pop as "Mr. Pop," which I suppose Michael Jackson might consider -lese majeste.- The same stylebook would presumably require that a certain Roger Zelazny character be identified as "Mr. Atman."
Xopher -- given that the story usedta be told about Gloria Swanson (and, as I recall, shows up in Isaac's joke book so referenced), I suspect it's not true.
I just went over to the MBTA (Boston mass transit) homepage, for reasons that will be apparent to Patrick and most of you, and encountered a large panel reading:
"Please visit Transit Updates for the lastest service changes."
Sic, sic, sic, as they say.
The New York Smite would never do that.
Terry also wouldn't have left a superfluous "very" in dialogue.
"I've got no trouble with reading the works of absent authors," said Gytha Ogg, with a blood-freezing calm. "Quite a few of the folks I knows is absent . . . some of them at very moments very crucial to the plot."
Look, if Terry were here he'd have done better. Terry's not here and he's doing better.
(And I can channel Tony Robinson for a sentence or two, but, well, Fate may like a challenge now and again, but standing one end of Lancre Town at high noon and calling her out is quite another.)
No, Ansel Adams was the Gray Lensman.
Well, I have seen the term "independent scholar" used for such people as Catharine MacKinnon, in which case I will take broccoli. (The term seems to specifically mean someone with no affiliation to an institution, whether educational, thinkety-tankety, or The National Alliance for More PCBs In Food.)
At any rate, the outfit we are chartering here obviously needs some impressive sounding names to attach to things, preferably insubstantial ones. At a start, I would suggest:
--The Whitmore Cellar of Antiquities
--The E. B. White Chair of Not Using "Literally" as an Intensifier
--The Django Fett Concert Hall and Automatic Weapons Range
--Regius Professor of Garlic (gonna be a major scrap over that one)
--The Research Refectory
--Thog Professor of Hideous Sentence Construction and Allied Arts
--Liberty Hall (applications for Head Cat now open)
--Little Chapel of the Possessive Apostrophe
--The Mathom Gallery
I do hope you will graduate at least one Undersecretary of Something Or Other With Primary Responsibility for Assuring That Particular Undersecretarial Office Has a Name on the Door.
Teresa, you and I aren't "scholars," we're . . . well, we live in book-lined caves, produce papers on arcane subjects, and have twitchy internal mechanics and a fondness for concocting strange things in the kitchen. We're Consulting Wizards.
shaman, of -course- they're correcting the archives. And I didn't see you at the Two-Minute Hate yesterday, either.
Though to credit it properly, Koestler had the idea before Orwell.
"... Plum and her sister Lucy ..."
Whose nickname, we must assume, is Land. Both of them doubtless related to the noted Shirley Gunderson Mercy.
I think the publication of the Spectacularly, Hideously Bad Book -- the Notably Awful Book, in fact -- and the attention such things so often receive, may say a couple of modestly significant things about The State of Publishing and Stuff. One is that most Bad Books are just, well, plainly bad; they are dull, their grammar is awkward, with the occasional howler, but someone of an editorial persuasion has taken Vise-Grips and Bondo to the rattliest bits, they displace not a brilliantly eccentric manuscript but another precisely as lame (though the other lame author will never believe this -- wait, wrong Nielsen Hayden blog thread). So when the Mutant Hellbook rises on its spavined limbs and pole-vaults "Good Morning," it taps a pressurized dome of critical frustration (not all of it acute or worthy, but that's another essay), and the Dead Book is staked in its native earth by the Killer Review. At the very least, it's a change of pace from saying the same things about the same writers, or even saying different things about the same writers, or . . . you get the idea. People watch talk shows so they can see what a Writer So Bad They've Heard of Him/Her looks like. Eventually the party mood passes, and we return to the usual cycle of military romances and meaningful, human, not-sf-on-your-tintype novels about space amoebas and the Holden Caulfield Clone Wars, and the water is again calm, until the shark music starts again.
This has been "All Metaphors Considered," brought to you by a generous grant from Pulp, the Display Technology of Tomorrow.
Adam Hall, QUILLER SOLITAIRE, William Morrow, 1992.
For that matter, several Japanese pilots, Pearl Harbor, 1945 (-et seq,- of course). I would be surprised if there wasn't a First War instance, though that would have been more of a last gesture than a weapon of you know what.
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