Hey hey!

Go to Google Images and do a search for the word "blasphemous." That guy on the cross saying "Don't keep me hanging" is Vladan!

(Full-sized image here.)

The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost some notes. I couldn't find them anywhere, and they were important notes: I'm writing a chapter about the Ukrainian construction industry, and miraculously, I'd managed to find the one guy in all of Ukraine who could talk straight with me about the construction business, down to the nitty-gritty of trends in costs of building materials. He was pressed for time, but he was very helpful. And I lost the notes.

The funny thing was, I couldn't even remember which of various notebooks and sundry scattered sheaves of scrap paper I'd used for this interview. But I looked everywhere, and the notes weren't anywhere.

After an hour - an hour badly spent, and now lost - I remembered something: The papers never existed. I'd brought my laptop to the guy's office and typed the notes, during the interview, right into a Word file.

It's all right here in front of me. Thus have I have mastered the art of losing.

*

This blog is currently ranked fifth on a Google search of how to deal with arrogant people.

First child put into Czech baby box.

I don't think this quite worked out the way the baby boxers wanted. The baby boxes were intended for anonymous babies that would otherwise be stuffed into garbage cans, not babies from responsible mothers who include the birth certificate and wait around to make sure their child is safely picked up by the doctors.

Among the unanswered questions: Were the twins identical? Why did the mother give up Sonya and keep the other one? Did the babies draw straws? And at what point is Sonya going to be told that somewhere out there, she has a twin sister (or brother)?

I just noticed somebody looking at my CV from Seattle. It's really quite out of date, and I've been meaning to replace it with some sort of more informal "my life so far" bio-type thing.

Steve on Dick Cheney, fearless hunter.

"Tame ducks, caged pheasants. All this recent hunting hullaballoo has put me in mind of another heir to the throne from former times..."

Indeed, it was all for you, Sophia. (*)

(Sadly related.)

Dude! I'm going to South Africa!