





I’m afraid of Americans. I’m afraid of the world. I’m afraid I can’t help it. I’m afraid I can’t…
About · Referring queries · Random article · Random doc · Recent comments (XML) · Contact · XML/Atom
articles · document pages
Anyone can double click to edit the block below. Its content is not necessarily from Sedition·com or reviewed or approved by us. Your chalkboard entry will stay there until someone else does the same or the server cache is reset or expires in a week. Rules: you can use basic Markdown or XHTML strict, no styles, no scripts, no <pre/>, no attributes except href for links, 750-ish characters, and, as usual, threats and abuse won’t be tolerated unless they’re very, very funny.
Why would you want to do this? You can put an ad and link for your site there. You can put a “Sedition·sucks” there. It’s above the fold on the top page and it’s all yours until the next visitor comes along.
Why would we want to do this? 1) Free speech is fun. 2) Cross-pollination is fun. 3) A Web 2.0 résumé point is nice when poking the job market with a sharp stick.
» Your candidate, I presume? #2.1
» Your candidate, I presume? #2
» Austin, Texas is the new Austin, Texas
» George Foreman I is going down in the first
» I don’t win every fight in my dreams
» How on Earth are there only two results in Google for this?
» You know what occurs to me seeing Harvey Weinstein doing the perp walk?
» Dennis Perrin’s still got it –OR– #Oprah2020
» Those who do not leave a reason…
» Re: The deaths in Charlottesville, Virginia today
» Is there anything more insulting…
» How to run *old* perl Kwiki (like 0.38) on PSGI
» Convert image sources to data URI with Perl: img2data
» Flugblätter der Widerstandsbewegung in Deutschland.
» Flugblätter der Weissen Rose. IV
» Flugblätter der Weissen Rose. III
We use carbon neutral web hosting to serve pages and our software, images, and auxiliary content are developed using 100% wind power; no, seriously.
The Owl always takes her sleep during the day. Then after sundown, when the rosy light fades from the sky and the shadows rise slowly through the wood, out she comes ruffling and blinking from the old hollow tree. Now her weird “hoo-hoo-hoo-oo-oo” echoes through the quiet wood, and she begins her hunt for the bugs and beetles, frogs and mice she likes so well to eat.
Now there was a certain old Owl who had become very cross and hard to please as she grew older, especially if anything disturbed her daily slumbers. One warm summer afternoon as she dozed away in her den in the old oak tree, a Grasshopper nearby began a joyous but very raspy song. Out popped the old Owl’s head from the opening in the tree that served her both for door and for window.
“Get away from here, sir,” she said to the Grasshopper. “Have you no manners? You should at least respect my age and leave me to sleep in quiet!”
But the Grasshopper answered saucily that he had as much right to his place in the sun as the Owl had to her place in the old oak. Then he struck up a louder and still more rasping tune.
The wise old Owl knew quite well that it would do no good to argue with the Grasshopper, nor with anybody else for that matter. Besides, her eyes were not sharp enough by day to permit her to punish the Grasshopper as he deserved. So she laid aside all hard words and spoke very kindly to him.
“Well sir,” she said, “if I must stay awake, I am going to settle right down to enjoy your singing. Now that I think of it, I have a wonderful wine here, sent me from Olympus, of which I am told Apollo drinks before he sings to the high gods. Please come up and taste this delicious drink with me. I know it will make you sing like Apollo himself.”
The foolish Grasshopper was taken in by the Owl’s flattering words. Up he jumped to the Owl’s den, but as soon as he was near enough so the old Owl could see him clearly, she pounced upon him and ate him up.
Take that, subspace.