gallagheria

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A picture named boris.JPGAmong arthropods, spiders hold a special place in my heart. When my wife sees a spider in the house and panics, I tell her that spiders are good luck–they keep down the population of those damn 6-legged, 3-segmented-body crittersin the house, weave attractive wall hangings, and are generally quite acceptable houseguests unless they happen to be (a) a Brown Recluse, or (b) a Black Widow.

A week ago, I noticed this decent-sized female (I think) spider dangling outside my office window on the second floor of our house. At first, I thought it was hanging from the screen, but then I realized it had weaved a web directly in front of my window.

When we finally got some rain this week, it washed the web out. But the spider went to work repairing her handiwork, and still stands guard over my closed, screened-in window, apparently in hope of something flying through it. (I guess she’s caught something while she’s been there, because she’s still kicking–though I have no idea what the caloric intake requirements for a 1/2 inch female spider are).

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General Chaos

I see dead people.

Steve Gillmor, riffing on Python (no, not that Python) says Notes is dead. Ray Ozzie, riffing on Steve, says publishing is dead.

Well, I'm sure that both Notes and Publishing, if they could be rendered as corporeal beings, would quote Python as well: “I'm not dead yet.”

Notes and its offspring, Domino, despite the best efforts of IBM to kill them, somehow live on despite the bungling. Publishing, despite the New Media's desire to cast it onto the metaphorical undertaker's cart, still appears to be the only way to make money off words reliably. Publishing has outlasted Pointcast's push and it will doubtless outlast P2P. It will coexist with the Web, weblogs, etc. just as it has with film, radio, and television.

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