Patrick links to Brian Linse’s The Lefty Directory, a list of left-leaning blogs, supposedly ordered by seniority, which doesn’t explain why an old-timer like me (started in May of ’98, picked up again after a long hiatus in November ’99) is #69 on the list after tender egglings like Nick Denton (#2 on the list, but whose archives only go back to January 2001). (Later addition: I guess Brian read this; I’m #2 now. Thanks, Brian!)
Even-more-ancient-than-I blogger Doc Searls seems a bit surprised at his inclusion in the list. He considers himself a libertarian (he spells it with a capital L, as if he were talking about formal membership in the Libertarian party, though it’s clear from his comments that he really means lower-case-l libertarianism), and among other things says:
And I have little patience for the liberal politics of victimhood and political correctness.
Y’know what, Doc? I, an unabashed liberal, also have little patience for the liberal politics of victimhood and political correctness. I also have little patience for the conservative politics of victimhood and political correctness.
Susan McCarthy’s Salon review of Marlene Zuk’s Sexual Selections not only makes the book soung fascinating, but is interesting and entertaining in its own right:
In order to avoid the appearance of cronyism or logrolling I feel the need to insert a savage attack on Zuk at this point: The woman is unsound on the subject of earwigs. She admits to considering earwigs "cute and interesting" and to trying -- unsuccessfully -- to convert her students to this view. Had she ever planted tender lupine seedlings in her garden only to find them hideously chewed up in the morning, and had she gone out in the night to inspect her seedlings by flashlight in a frenzy of grief and concern, only to find earwigs stationed at the tip of each leaflet, remorselessly slashing at the delicate green flesh, I do not think the first word from her lips would have been "cute!" This is classic ivory-tower analysis, unmindful of ground truths the rest of us know from bitter experience. I concede that a mother earwig curled on her eggs is not without a certain charm --- until you consider the sap-splattered career that brought her to this point and the similar destiny of destruction that, when they hatch out, awaits the teeny-tiny miniature earwiglets.
It — the review — suffers from a single glaring flaw: Not once is the title of the book mentioned. There’s a small picture of the book’s cover at the top of the review, but the title is in thin white type on a baby blue background; I had to squint to make it out.
Meryl Yourish has rated the dating potentials of various superheroes. But it’s clear from her comments about Superman that she’s never read Larry Niven’s classic (and pre-Crisis) speculative essay, “Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex”. Fortunately, the text is online:
The problem is this. Electroencephalograms taken of men and women during sexual intercourse show that orgasm resembles "a kind of pleasurable epileptic attack." One loses control over one's muscles.
You’ve just gotta love a work that contains the sentence “Meanwhile, tens of millions of sperm swarm in the air over Metropolis.”