KOL Update

(ignore if you don't play Kingdom of Loathing. Seriously, it won't even make any sense.)

1. I'm currently at level 26, on my way to the second of the six Level 30 trophies. This is a Sauceror run, incidentally.

2. I'm also at Basement level 403, on my way to the second of the seven Telescope certificates.

3. After winning a million meat yesterday, I had enough to spring for the Libram of Divine Favors (meaning that I now have a full bookshelf). The Libram is, imho, utterly essential to Basement diving, and this will allow me to conjure Divine Party Favors directly instead of buying them up.

4. I also sprung for the item of the month. I mean, it's a llama, for god's sake. Who doesn't want a llama?I haven't used it much yet (see items 1 and 2), but I expect I'll spend a few days playing with it once I hit level 30.

5. I'm also working on my tour guide trophies, with this run aiming to be a 90% Sombrero run.

6. A reminder: if you have any extra Handfuls of Nuts and Berries, Handfuls of Pine Needles, Stone Frisbees, Sabre Teeth, or Dreadlock Whips, I'd love to have 'em (and let me know if you collect any items).

Today's reading

Cherie Priest (who's always worth reading, anyway) on Obama and what he's done.

Dear Hollywood:

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

The very existence of Friedberg and Seltzer lowers the collective IQ of the world by about three points. Uwe Boll comse across as a nuanced genius compared to these guys. One monkey, typing on one broken typewriter for half an hour, would produce a better screenplay, and the rotting corpse of Phil Tucker would direct things more energetically. A three-hour adaptation of Serrano's Piss Christ would be less offensive, and I've heard dirges that are funnier.

Seriously, Hollywood. Stop it. There's are lots of reasons I've largely abandoned you, and these guys represent most of them.

Love,

yendi

Oh, heaven forbid!

""I don't think it's right seeing women kissing in public. If I had my family there, I'd have to explain what's going on."

That would be Jim Ridneour, a Seattle taxi driver who is one of the people shocked and appalled that women might go to a baseball game and kiss each other. I would hate for him to have to explain to his family that lesbians exist; surely, things would be much better if they could keep their blinders on and pretend that anything that upsets their oh-so-delicate sense of propriety is the stuff of fiction.

And don't get me started on the fact that the Mariners were willing to threaten to kick someone out of the game for kissing her partner (apologies after the fact are nice, but completely useless).

I'd love to know if the Mariners are also one of the teams that uses the "kiss-cam," showing couples on the Jumb-o-tron and trying to get them to kiss in front of everyone.

Dan Savage has more details here.

(Yeah, it's my anti-creationist icon, but I don't have an anti-homophobe one. Then again, we're looking at heavily overlapping ven diagrams here.)