Blog software: bBlog and Snurf

A PHP implementation called [bBlog]( is [Smary]( Neat.

Look also at [Snurf](, which is a Python-based blogging system. Snurf’s designer calls attention to [a W3 document]( about problems any blog designer, or CMS designer could run into.

He also [points out in a blog entry]( the problems he had with bBlog, what made him hack his own.

Also, from today’s heap of news: [the gbaunix]( Cool, very cool.

Evil humour and 80s Movies

[Vice Guide to Everything]( was weird. The world becomes clear, in a sexist fashion. If more people thought these exact things about these things, what a world.


Ah, but this here was funny: [The Ruthless Guide to 80s Action]( collects the greatest 80s movies from 1980-1992. And some goodies are there.

Big sweaty men! Big noisy guns! Dozens of people getting slaughtered, per scene! Entire cities razed to the ground! Simple handguns become judge, jury and executioner!

And the only repercussion is that the Stupid Chief revokes your badge and gun for the weekend…


Accessible FORMs

The article [“An Accessible Method of Hiding HTML Content”]( shows some problems with screen readers, that is tools for those with visual disabilities. When creating websites for *everyone*, the small things matter.

A Deleuze blog

[Intermezzo]( blogs his progress through Gilles Deleuze’s “A Thousand Plateaus”. He mentioned it in an Orkut group as an emergent trend amongst bloggers.

I might do that someday: and all you see me type is some inane logging of what I read: I, an automaton of thought.

Still, the idea of “blog as tool for thought” is compelling.

Update: Aiolos and Glänta, two Swedish publishers of books and magazines have created [a theme issue on Deleuze]( . And now [Daidalos]( has published Deleuze’s “The Fold” in Swedish.

And the blog [Copyriot]( told me about the joint issue, which has cut a few lines of “Samtalet”, and it is all in Swedish.

Roma, Roma!

As we draw near to our leaving home ground, I start gathering info on Italy. We pray that Heler’s rain rams stay out of the sky during our stay.

The [weather in Rome]( seems a little wet for the next week, but we’ll try to keep it sane.

New Finnish blog on literature

This might come as no surprise to anyone connected to the Finnish role-playing set, but they have, according to Mike Pohjola, and in evidence online, started a new blog “focusing on literary and media criticism.” It is called [Perkeleen periskooppi]( and is all-Finnish.

Now I really need to learn that language, again. I sorely want to hear what Mika Loponen thinks about this item: “Kirja: China Miéville, Iron Council (2004, Del Ray)” I already know that Kirja means book, and I have one piece of fiction by Miéville, still unread. I also saw a copy of this new book in a store window. And I was but little intrigued. But if the headline *Sosialistista fantasiaa* can’t get me interested in this review, few things can. Loponen is a great opinionator.

If you are fortunate enough to already know Finnish, go there.

Theory of Everything: I feel uninformed

This happened a while ago in Copenhagen, when my friend Andreas and his friend Marie were visiting. We are in a corner bar called Café Falken. Not the one in Frederikberg, the one on Christianshavn, which has no reference to it at all on the Internet — up until now, that is. The place had mostly old people in it. *Authentic* written all over it.

So me and mine were there, *bourgeoising* it all up, like cats do milk.

— “[Theory of Everything](” is the shit, says Andreas.
— Sure, but at which conference was it released? counters Marie, citing three or four examples of heroics in physics.

This launches a long back-and-forth on physics, of which I know next to nothing. Good lesson to me. Techno-babble can kill.

I learnt that one can not understand [string theory]( to any meaningful extent, without getting high-level math first. The abstractions just turn into playful imagery, not explanations.

But the above links can lead you and me, dear reader, to more information on the subject of TOE. And, maybe, at the end of the day, this information can be turned into understanding. But do not count on it.

Another thing I remember was that Marie was interested in [primitivism](, as preached by [John Zerzan]( Myself, I am an armchair eco-philosopy reader, it’s a bit like collecting records. The books are on import, extremely expensive, from small pubslihers, in small print runs. Very seldom one meets another collector, and it was nice meet another eco-geek. (I’d like to point out that eco-geeks of that level are bookworms, mostly.)

Lars and Anja’s wedding

Me and L were invited to a wedding in the south of Denmark, near the town Magleby on [the island of Møn](, which is far from Copenhagen. We were instructed to wear “field gala dress”.

We had to rent a car, pack it with [Gimle](, Maja and [Bagmanden]( and drive down. L was at the wheel. To the Danes it was extremely far off. An hour and a half we drove, through all kinds of weather, and sometimes we slowed down to a crawl because of the pouring rain. It was a nice trip, and we discoursed and talked and word-gamed. Me and Bagmanden got pretty worked up.

At a filling station I noted an [pictogram]( that was very queer. After many, many guesses I left the car and inspected its legend, printed in small type on it in three languages. Turned out is was where you empty your *poo-poo* container attached to your mobile home.

On arrival at the place we raised our domed tent (borrowed for the occasion) and began schmoozing. It was almost like a [Fastaval](, with many familiar faces. Most of us live in busy Copenhagen, so we seldom meet, outside bars. (And to tell the truth, most of us are too busy even to go to bars, these days.) Ã…rhus’ own Fastaval TV was represented by K. Nørgaard, who had been personally driven to the wedding in a truck, by a Copenhagen friend who turned back to Copenhagen without leaving the truck. He “just wanted to take a ride in the truck”, said Nørgaard on the ride.

After some confusion we got into our good clothes. L had on a new dress of rust-colored elegance, and I was in a three-piece, perhaps a little battered. Black tie, though. And a straw hat, Panama-style. (“No offense, but you look just like a 50s preacher.”) All wedding-guests trudged along a summery road, and as we walked, I saw a flash of lightning on a far hilltop. The skies were strange, some parts black and driving, some open and blue. The party ascended a hill, and at its top we gathered together with the groom, who awaited his bride. She arrived with her father holding her hand, to the tune of a [näverlur]( — a long birch trumpet-like instrument from Dalarna, mid-Sweden. The bride’s mother is from Dalarna, so that’s the connection.

The mayor of Møns Kommune (da. “county of Møn”), Knud Larsen, held a little speech, then legally wedded the two, and they got to sign papers. We got to throw rice at them. The rice came in a pink gauze package. Then we sang two songs, rather badly, and the wind took most of our vocal offerings, but we had to make do.

After this ceremony, there were some games for the guests, which included running about outside. Our own Mackacken crashed blindfolded into Line, which ended one part of the games. Luisa scraped her foot on a rock, too, also blindfolded.

Then we took to the feast hall, which had a stage, a bar, a buffet and a very long program of events. I was moved by some speeches, for instance when Lars got the family sabre from his father, and the big brother’s gift of the stormtrooper paper stand.

The feast was long and merry. It featured, among other things, a very witty, un-hiphop, and well-performed Swedish rap/spoken word, a lovers’ tango, the bride and groom dancing the waltz, after which the groom’s socks (?) were ceremonially cut off. Without any more blood-shed.

Now the couple are named Lars Vensild Hörnell and Anja Vensild Hörnell.