Growl

I am not allowed "the interweb" until I catch up on at least 50% of the shit that I have to do. So this is just to say that I hate gratuitous use of Flash. Last night I was hungry for the first time in almost a month (now, before you get all interventionist on me, I eat, I'm just never hungry), it was 2 AM, so of course I was, like, Anytime! I haven't had an occasion to order from Anytime since I moved out of the apartment you may remember from my Slumlord Chronicles, and I certainly no longer had the menu. No problem, I thought, I have the interweb at my disposal, and sure enough, two clicks of Google later, there it is, Anytime Cafe. The problem? The fucking menu is in Flash and I can't read it because my computer just, like, doesn't want to install a Flash Player. Believe me, I've tried. There isn't a text-only version. I try to trick the Flash by clicked cached on google, but no. The menu manifests itself on my laptop screen as a close relative of Malevich's "The Black Square," The Black Rectangle. Now, why does Anytime Cafe need flash? I mean, really? "Oh, we are sooo cool, we only deliver to hipsters who have OS10 and thus can run Firefox. OS9 people, you can eat your cuticles." I actually managed to order food from them by way of enlisting pnts, a.k.a. remsaverem, who is located in Colorado, to walk me through the menu, the price minimum, and to give me their phone number via AIM. . That is not acceptable.

(no subject)

to the lovely akozorez:

I came home last night and combed through my bookshelves, finding things I wanted to give you.

I will see you very soon!

In the meantime, this is what I want by way of a tattoo:



This is the Thesis IX of Benjamin's Theses on the Philosophy of History that concerns itself with the angel:


IX  

My wing is ready for flight,  
I would like to turn back.If I stayed
timeless time, 
I would have little luck.

Gerherd Scholem, 
‘Gruss vom Angelus’




A Klee painting named ‘Angelus Novus’ shows an angel looking as though he is about to move away from something he is fixedly contemplating. His eyes are staring, his mouth is open, his wings are spread. This is how one pictures the angel of history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing in from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such a violence that the angel can no longer close them. The storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This storm is what we call progress.

You can find the entire thing here