My list:
Four jobs you’ve had in your life (in order): theatre concessionaire, pet store clerk, package designer, Flash animator
Four movies you could watch over and over: Grosse Point Blank, Hackers, Lawrence of Arabia, The Shawshank Redemption
Four places you’ve lived: Utah; Calgary, Alberta; Raleigh-Durham, NC; San Francisco, CA
Four TV shows you love to watch: Buffy, the Vampire Slayer; Brisco County, Jr.; Max Headroom; Six Feet Under
Four places you’ve been on vacation: Sedona, AZ; Moab, UT; Sandy Eggo, CA; Augusta, GA
Four websites you visit daily: Dooce.com, Penny Arcade, dictionary.com, Weboggle
Four of your favorite foods: poutine (fries, gravy, and cheese curds--a Quebecois dish that is arteriosclerosis in a bucket), mango juice, zucchini bread, navratan korma
Four places you’d rather be: New York, London, Australia, and whereever the monkey is.
I don't think I can stop laughing. Hooo.....need.....to....breathe....
Larry: Thanks for the tip. :)
Xopher: I get what you are saying now after re-reading. If I get you correctly, you weren't comparing the crime of murder (of any mere human) to the crime of cultural obliteration, but rather pointing out why you think that the death penalty might be in some way justified for such a crime.
The idea of burning any library is making me wibble. How were they planning on translating the texts to their own language if they've gone and burnt them all?
(I got my new San Francisco library card on Wednesday!)
While I disagree with Xopher's hyberbole (mere human being? this mere human being flinches even though she realises the words were used for effect) I feel as well that there should be a special crime classification for this sort of thing. Arson just doesn't cover it. We're talking about the destruction of the literary posterity of thousands of long-dead folks. Irreplaceable.
When I was little, some of my worst nightmares and paranoias dealt with fire. I used to pray to Heavenly Father every night that he wouldn't let the house burn down. (I had this uneasy conviction that if I forgot my prayers, he would punish me in this manner.) And then I would go to sleep and dream about my parent's house burning down and me pitching all my favourite books from our library out through the windows until the fire got too high. There was this horrible moment of indecision every time I turned back from the window--save more books, and if so, which ones, and where were they on the shelves? And eventually, I'd have to jump, knowing that the rest of my books were going up in flames. And not just my books but all my childhood art and writing. The personal mythology of my own little world--gone, poof.
(Now I just live in fear of hard drive corruption.)
| Year | Number of comments posted |
|---|---|
| 2005 | 5 |
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