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| I assume you thought this was going to be some sort of philisophical article ruminating on how one's personal existence is created through one's interactions with others. You were wrong. It's a Where's Waldo exercise. Find me in the following picture: (click for full size)
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Oh, and remember Zephyrus, who kills Hyacinth?
If you don't, have a relevant quote:
Lucian, Dialogues of the Gods 16 (trans. Fowler) (Greek satire C2nd A.D.) :
"Hermes : Why so sad, Apollon?
Apollon : Alas, Hermes,--my love!
Hermes : Oh; that's bad. What, are you still brooding over that affair of Daphne?
Apollon : No. I grieve for my beloved; the Lakonian, the son of Oibalos.
Hermes : Hyakinthos? he is not dead?
Apollon : Dead.
Hermes : Who killed him? Who could have the heart? That lovely boy!
Apollon : It was the work of my own hand.
Hermes : You must have been mad!
Apollon : Not mad; it was an accident.
Hermes : Oh? and how did it happen?
Apollon : He was learning to throw the quoit, and I was throwing with him. I had just sent my quoit up into the air as usual, when jealous Zephyros (damned be he above all winds! he had long been in love with Hyakinthos, though Hyakinthos would have nothing to say to him)--Zephyros came blustering down from Taygetos, and dashed the quoit upon the child's head; blood flowed from the wound in streams, and in one moment all was over. My first thought was of revenge; I lodged an arrow in Zephyros, and pursued his flight to the mountain. As for the child, I buried him at Amyklai, on the fatal spot; and from his blood I have caused a flower to spring up, sweetest, fairest of flowers, inscribed with letters of woe.--Is my grief unreasonable?
Hermes : It is, Apollo. You knew that you had set your heart upon a mortal: grieve not then for his mortality."
Anyway, apparently he (Zephyrus) was also into his sister, Flora:
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| I was browsing the Internet when I came upon this response to the "birther" movement--those people seeking to discredit Obama's election (because they don't like black people) by somehow proving that he was born in Kenya.
"As long as you're asking stupid irrelevant questions based on hypotheticals that get your little gerbil brain excited, let's ask what would happen if Obama turns out to be Poseidon, god of the sea? THEN we could show that he was never born in America and in fact must be banished to the ocean deep from whence he came.
What if Obama turns out to be a Puerto Rican woman who has been wearing extensive makeup and walking on stilts?
What if Obama secretly tunneled underneath the Harvard Law School campus and found a really smart bum who looked like Joe Pesci, and the bum did all his legal assignments and handled all his law review editing duties?
What if Obama had a tractor accident as a teen, like Jerry Seinfeld's girlfriend in one episode, and his toes were grafted onto the stumps left behind when his thumbs got sliced off? So now he's going around shaking hands with people who aren't aware he has toe-thumbs. I think that invalidates all the hand-shakes he has participated in since the Iowa caucuses.
What if Obama secretly hates fried chicken and secretly loves mayonnaise? Then we can prove he's not really black.
What if all this is really taking place in a parallel universe, and in the REAL universe, the Australian birth certificate is the fake, and Obama is really some Aussie, and there's a guy in Adelaide who is really running things in the US, with the help of an Aussie who looks like Karl Rove and smells like Harriet Miers?
Homer Simpson: "What if? What if I'm taking a shower and I slip on a bar of soap? OH MY GOD I'd be killed!"
You're absurd. But it's nice to see how upset you are."
Credit goes to stephenperry of washingtonindependent.com. | | |
| Due to a ground delay, we missed our flight to Athens and Air France rerouted us through Prague.
Pictures are clickable links to larger versions of themselves.
This is the Prague Airport; all modern and glassy and such.
The airport was full of strange advertisements: a Budweiser ad saying, "Unlike people, my conception is always planned;" pictures of opera houses and gas streetlamps; and this, for the world premiere of Dracula, the musical.
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| I went back to my original Xanga layout, from four years ago, because it's the only one I ever felt really worked. | | |
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