A dead seagull was floating in the Capitol Reflecting Pool last Sunday evening, and in my morbid fascination I couldn’t help but take a couple of photos as I walked by:
Photos taken with a Canon Powershot A400.
how now brownpau
A dead seagull was floating in the Capitol Reflecting Pool last Sunday evening, and in my morbid fascination I couldn’t help but take a couple of photos as I walked by:
Photos taken with a Canon Powershot A400.
White House Fence Jumpers has gotten mention from prominent DC blogs Wonkette and DCist. Thank you.
According to Andrew Sinclair, lawyers are paying major big bucks for clicks on internet ads for the word “mesothelioma.” Take note, medical bloggers with search-related textads.
iMonk on sex and the single Christian guy. His point about couples “disintegrating to rolling around naked in bed” is well taken: one doesn’t fall into sexual temptation because he is overpowered by it; there’s a clear decision on the offender’s part to take sexual activity to second/third/home base, only to be excused later as a moment of weakness in the heat of passion. That’s why we’re told, “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.”
Next time that temptation comes to indulge in just a little more of those lovely “art” nude photos, just a little more snuggly making-out, just a little more peering through scrambled late night Pay-Per-View, one does well to seize that “way of escape,” a simple act of will to stop. To continue past that point would be active rebellion, after which the Spirit convicts with waves of shame, and that’s never a good place to be in.
(I’m not with iMonk entirely, however, on the idea that “if Jesus had chosen to be a husband and father, it would make absolutely no difference in his incarnation or our salvation in him.” The point of the Bible’s allegory of salvation as marriage is that Christ was and is married: a bridegroom to his bride, the church, in a union to be consummated at the endtimes when he returns to bring his family home. He couldn’t and wouldn’t marry, being already betrothed to us.)
I spent Saturday afternoon at the National Museum of American History, viewing its latest acquisition: Seinfeld’s puffy shirt. Also pictured: Kermit the Frog.
Photo taken with a Canon Powershot A400.
Social Volcano! Any minute now! Next year, I predict! If I had a centavo for everytime Teddy Benigno predicted the imminent eruption of a social volcano, I would have very many centavos. Too bad Philstar.com has nonexistent archives and that article link won’t last for more than a few days; else this Google search would be much more entertaining.
HNBP on Amazon, with site info from Alexa. At the time of this writing, I have an average traffic rank of 1,142,858. (Find your own site by searching for it on A9 and clicking on the “Site Info” button.)
I joined the Help the Homeless Walkathon yesterday. I had rather stupidly waited till the last minute to register, quite missing the notice that the cutoff date for online registration was last Tuesday. I then rather stupidly forgot to do laundry the night before, and had to do my socks hurriedly that morning, having no other socks to walk in. Then, upon arriving — late — at the crowded Walkathon registration point outside the National Gallery, I realized that I had rather stupidly forgotten to write down any contact info for anyone in my group from church, overoptimistically trusting instead in my ability to find a needle in a haystack.
Long story short, I confirmed my registration individually, got my T-shirt, and joined the Walkathon alone, taking pictures of walkers and musicians along the way. It was a long, fun walk: across the National Mall, down Independence Ave, around the Tidal Basin, and back to the Mall to finish near the National Gallery. Along the way, I was interviewed by PBS for Jim Lehrer’s Newshour. I very much doubt I’ll be featured — I don’t interview well for TV, dissolving into rather stupid, incoherent rambling on camera.
In case you missed the links: Walkathon photo album here.
I’m sure next year will be better.
Memories of Doom 1. While all you young whippersnappers have been crowbarring headcrabs in Half Life 2, I downloaded Doom Legacy to my G3 iBook to indulge in some nostalgic pixelated demon-fragging — with the added advantages of higher screen resolution, mouselook, and Quake-like jumping.
Has it really been so long since we upgraded to this from Wolfenstein 3D on our 486DX-33s and believed it to be the pinnacle of modern gaming? I must say, despite the old graphics, Doom remains fairly scary, even ten years later — and I think of myself as a reasonably jaded fellow.
Yesterday’s action-packed afternoon at 1600 Penn Ave NW was a much-needed kick in the pants to get the White House Fence Jumper weblog back up and running. Mohamed Alanssi and Yasuharu Kuga bear the dubious distinction of being first to rouse the ire of Secret Service following a long drought in White House Fence nuttery, a drought no doubt brought about by the construction obstruction of the Penn Project, now finished.
Overheard last week at the Lincoln Memorial:
“Look, Mommy, it’s the White House!”
“No, honey, that’s the White House.”
Mommy then points to the Capitol Dome.