We’re off to Fiji for my little brother’s wedding and a tropical version of a hobbit party. (So very many generations of relatives converging all in the one place.)
This will actually be my 23rd visit to Fiji. I’ve been shark diving all over the Pacific. Not a brag, it’s an explanation of what I hope to achieve:
These islands in particular have been the setting for some fairly dramatic magic moments in my life, including what was possibly my most significant enchantment ever.
The intention is to use the mid-afternoon hour where it pours with rain each day with the grim regularity of an English drought to cover these stories off.
But as William Shatner says, “if you want to get screwed, tell your plans to God.” Apparently the connection speeds are total pants.
Anyway, feel free to follow along via Posterous for pictures or Twitter for pithy comments about my freakshow family. This is my way of saying that there might be some delay in approving comments or returning emails. It’s probably not because I find you weird and unsettling.
Oh, and just for the fuck of it… there is a very good chance I will be live tweeting my little brother’s wedding. Ain’t I a stinker?
Some other news
In the meantime, please enjoy some off-season programming:
This is really fun if you either know London or are a font nerd. Have a play.
No. But we’ll certainly flip a few switches and see what happens. It’s chaos either way. (Hooray!) Nice piece from the New Yorker.
The BBC explains how it is seeing significant changes in online user behaviour. Definitely worth a read if you blog or trade online.
Also could be called “why the Germans are significantly better at managing national infrastructure and workforces to almost-completely eliminate employment blackspots despite having been bombed into oblivion, carved violently in twain and unceremoniously thrust back together.” What’s our excuse? Thatcher one and Thatcher two.
Do me a favour: fail at a lot of things while I’m swimming with sharks and drinking rum on a beach.
If you’re wondering what kind of jerks I’ll be inappropriately loud in a hotel bar with. Hipsters. Just LOOK at this fucking hipster town.
Whom you know I love.
Not like I’m going to, or anything. Look away now.
More on my whole telepathy/NDE kick. Read this whole piece for an example of how orthodox “science” refuses to engage with actual scientific evidence. Contains references to a psychic parrot. Amazing. Little tip: select all, copy, paste into a document where you can embiggen. Either that or zoom in. It’s extremely difficult to read but very much worth your while.
And that’s me. See you after the jump, Los Angeles.