I just read a fascinating (if a bit slanted) LA Times article about “genetic evidence that Native Americans aren’t descendants of the Hebrews”:http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-mormon16feb16,0,5561316.story. It probably doesn’t come as a shock to most of us, but apparently it’s a big deal to Mormons who were converted to that faith based on their “Lamanite heritage”. Anyway, I’m not doing the article justice. Read it; it has an interesting set of twists and turns.
I just “posted”:http://labs.evdb.com/archives/2006/02/spotted_in_the_1.html about the new “Podbop”:http://podbop.org service, which uses EVDB data to help people discover new music. A snippet:
bq. Podbop’s mission is to prevent the “shoulda been there” syndrome. You know the story: a friend goes to a concert by a little-known band then tells you, “You gotta hear this!” You discover that they’re awesome, just in time to realize that they won’t visit your town for another year. If ever. “Shoulda been there.”
bq. Rewind a month and try it the Podbop way instead. You go to the Podbop site and find your city’s podcast. (San Diego, for instance) Podbop gives you a steady stream of MP3s for bands that are performing soon in your town. If you like one, follow the link to the Eventful page for details on the concert. Now you’ll be the one to tell your friend, “Gotta hear this band!”
Check it out for your town and see what you think.
*The view from here is pretty good.*
This is the only shot in which he did not a) lick the sock, b) chew the needles, or c) grab the sock with a deadly-inaccurate claw. If it had been alpaca, y’all would be reading a somewhat expletive-heavy account of the official Knitting Olympics cat toy.
*A true athlete looks beyond the pain.*
So today began the fourth day. I’m feeling it in my upper arms. You laugh? You try to grip sticks of wood half the diameter of chopsticks in your fingertips and maneuver string with them for hours at a stretch.
Sorry. I’m a bit testy. You see, it’s 12:31 in the morning. In five hours I will begin nursing a child who will pop up, bright and shiny-eyed, and demand, “Time for a snack? Pretzels and cheese and crackers?” And yet. I am sitting here, writing this, after performing what, to my untested mettle, was the scariest task so far.