Saturday dribs

On the e-mail confidentiality disclaimer front: Over at the LJ version of this blog, LJ User argentla points out that not all people who have them on their e-mails are douchebags--some of them just work for douchebags.

And argentla knows what he's talking about when it comes to employer douchebags, so, yeah. My apologies if I inadvertently offended anyone who's using those disclaimers because their boss is a jerk.

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"Blessed are the meek: for their brains shall be eaten first." Matthew 5:5

The Zombie Stinque Bible project lets you join I don't know how many others in adding zombies to your favourite bible passages.

"For God so loved the world, that he made His Son a zombie, and whoever is bitten by the Son shall also become zombie and be undead everlasting." John 3:16

I really hope this catches on and peoople start adding zombies to the book of mormon and quran. I'd suggest adding them to scientology texts, but I doubt anyone would notice.

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For the past three days, I've found myself wanting to write an epic narrative poem. Because I'm not spending enough time working in dead and/or anonymous forms already.

This is almost certainly down to my reading altogether too much about Lord Byron, and Percy and Mary Shelley. Who, it turns out, were all melodramatic jerks to one degree or another. Mary appears to have been the most sympathetic of the bunch, but the descriptions of her I've read really do lead to the conclusion that she put the "pathetic" in "sympathetic". She never really had a life to call her own and invested almost all her emotional wellbeing in self-absorbed a-holes and/or dead people.

This is why I avoid research as much as possible (well, that and I'm lazy.) Whenever I wrap myself up in something, I start absorbing more than the information I'm looking for--I also pick up stylistic tics and the desire to write things I wouldn't in a million years write otherwise, like epic narrative poems. Or, as I think I'm going to refer to them from now on, massive ditties.

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