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Why? Beats the shit out of me.
Dan Kamisky weighs in with a powerful linguistic insight: We conceive love in terms of bodily injury. To wit:
When it goes on too long, there's the *seven year itch*, until
eventually there's a *painful break* up. After that, people talk like
"they've lost a piece of themselves"...and commence with *the healing
process*. There's certainly danger involved when we fall in love, get stuck in a relationship, get caught up in our feelings and, or get hit on at a bar. Also when we're struck by another's beauty or wrapped around a lover's finger. I could go on, but it's already tomorrow and I've gotta go to bed. But yeah, Pow! Dan hits this one right in the kisser. Hey, Larry! Lookit here! "Endmen.com" is still available. Or why, when the middlemen are gone, there will only be endmen
Dylan Tweney on copyright. A sample:
When it does, by the way, there's no guarantee that today's middlemen will still be in the middle. Publishers, record labels, and movie studios currently make money by controlling reproduction and distribution. In the future, content middlemen will be able to make money by authenticating the identities of content creators, collecting payments, and policing identity infractions. Middlemen will also be able to add value (and hence make money) by selecting quality content and by helping to produce it -- the role that editors and recording studios play today. And there will be middlemen acting as gatekeepers to markets and communities of interest. But whether all of these roles will continue to reside in one place is an open question. Drowning in proven pudding The reason why this page has been blank for half the day is that my main box has failed repeatedly while I try to write, believe it or not, about Why Operating Systems Suck. Yes, this is the same Major Piece I've been trying to finish since December.I have to get it done today, the last day we're covered with a baby sitter before we start to move. The truck, driven by me, will pull out of here next Friday morning. Joyce is on the phone with Verizon and Cox Cable, trying to set up connectivity at the new home and office in Santa Barbara. We're surrounded by boxes starting to fill with files, gear, books and other necessary business debris. We' house is about to start looking like wreckage. You know the drill. And the @#$%& computer locks up when I try to write about what causes exactly that. I've lost many hours of work, and now I need to fix the @#$% thing while working on the piece over here on the laptop, without any of the research materials and links I have on the currently funked main machine. I know life will be better when I achieve full competence on a Linux box, and write everything in Vi. Meanwhile, here I shit. Sometimes irony is torture. There are responses to this message:
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