Further adventures of...

The riot and insurrection continues in Sooper Sekrit SFWA Newsgroups.  With over a hundred fresh posts this morning, I have officially shrugged my shoulders and walked away.  Too voluminous and verminous for my taste.  Besides, I'm too obscure to even merit pirate copies of my books posted to the internet.

Meanwhile, a rookie pitcher for the BoSox threw a no-hitter last night, second game in the major leagues.  That sort of thing could go to your head.

Ink by the barrel?

Apropos of the current copyright flap, I was reminded of that old warning:  "Never argue with a man who buys ink by the barrel."*  Googling shows an attribution to Mark Twain, but I thought it was older than that -- dating back to Samuel Johnson or something.

Anybody know?

*Reminded because Boing Boing buys pixels by the tank-car.

And why, in this digital day and age, doesn't LJ spell-check recognize "googling"?

Sunday roadkill report

Roadside littered with dead raccoons and woodchucks and skunks and crows and squirrels and frogs.  No squashed porcupines sighted, a peculiar omission.  This plethora, incidentally,  tends to support the theory that humans remove the roadkill from my normal route -- today's ride took me through other townships, where the natural carrion-remover populations would likely be as dense or more so than my normal route.

Beautiful day, blue sky and little wind and temperatures in the 60s F.  Headed across the river and into the hills, then upstream and back across and down.  Walked the Bridge 'O Doom, of course.  Normal supply of wildflowers.

41.43 miles, 3:13:14