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The Medicines Are Gone Rien at Notes posted some pictures and the  transcript of a BBC interview with
BaddGrrl this
afternoon. Nice.
BaddGrrl is the Journal Ring webmistress whom I most hold in lust and
carnal admiration and I would be a pest about it except I can't get up
out of my chair anymore without a cane and a couple of poppers and the
bastards took my car keys so I can't drive, else I'd be at her door
right now (by god!) with something special in my hand. (Just kidding,
Lorraine. About the poppers, anyhow. ;-))
Odd to have that kind of feedback. Curious and want to see something being broadcast 6,000 miles away on the Beeb? No sweat. Want to ask the lay of the land in Australia? No sweat. Want to connect to the Last Admonition Café in Shanghai? Well, they haven't worked that one out yet. The company I work for has offices all over the world and an internal network that connects them together. We have a contract with Compuserve to dial into this network from anywhere in the world with a local phone call. The dial in software we load on every laptop has a directory listing the local number of most every city on the globe. Want to hit the net in Abu Dabi? There's a number. In Hong Kong? There's a number. Sidney? Cape Town? Moscow? Buenos Aires? There's a number. Shanghai? There's no number. Two access numbers for the whole of China. And the Last Admonition? Sensuous Site of the Seven Sisters of the Pheromone Dawn? Not a peep. And I've got this important message here, written in the Seven Favored Flavors of Ink, scented with the Moist Mannered Murmurs of Who-Dicky-Doo and it just sits here in this abysmal computer box without number. Without connection. To the web. Does this make sense? Doesn't me, either, now that the medicines are gone. (I'm going to go shoot some pictures now. Most of them will be on film which won't be ready until next week, but some will be digital and I promise to post them here. Right? Sole Proprietor? Right?) |
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