Raving Amicks

mmmmm… os X.5 looks shiny . . .

http://www.apple.com/macosx/guidedtour/?cid=AOS-AM-113431-C0003922-A10000084927

Hey I’ve been chillin around on the internet lately and I came upon a rad twist to the classic artillery and dome wars, it’s Turret wars! And I’ve really gotten addicted to it really quickly and has stayed a permanent application on my desktop for a couple weeks. The demo is here: http://games.sector3.com.au/turret.aspx I like it a lot.

I would like everyone to go here “http://www.smashbros.com/en_us/info/info01.html” now.

And click on the movie.

Hey family! I’ve found a cool series on youtube, called
We Need Girlfriends ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=omE_8VJN9Eo ), I think it’s hilarious and they’ve got like 12 videos of it too, I would recommend checking that out. Also one of their songs they feature on one of their video’s is great too, it’s by Plush Gun, called Just Impolite (http://www.myspace.com/plushgun).

Yeah, can’t sleep. Which isn’t all that bad really, it was raining heavily earlier, which is nice considering most rain here is in very very small droplets, so it doesn’t sound very cool. Anyway, I’m going to try and upload a song on here that I found today among my garage sale music list. The list has all these songs, two boxes of cds that I found at a garage sale last summer, so it takes a while to actively pick and choose the good stuff among most of the crap. This song is very different but now definitely one of my top songs out of my garage list. Its got a cool name too, its “Hamburger Cemetary” by Snowblow.

Ok, so this poem is brilliant in so many ways I can’t help but share it with everybody, Mindy probably knows this all but oh well, anybody else understand this?

Wordsworth: The Solitary Reaper

BEHOLD her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.

No Nightingale did ever chaunt
More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne’ er was heard
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.

Will no one tell me what she sings?–
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been and may be again?

Whate’er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o’er the sickle bending;–
I listened, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.