For various reasons which I will not go into at the moment because I don't feel like it, I have the urge to provide wholly unsolicited but practical advice to writers. So here it is. Why should you as a writer listen to my advice? No reason except that I published two books last year, will publish two books this year and am likely to publish another couple of books next year, and aside from that I make a whole lot of money doing what I do. On the other hand, I am also famously a cranky blowhard who readily admits to having his head up his ass a lot of the time. So take it or leave it.
Even More Long-Winded (But Practical) Writing Advice, from John Scalzi.
There is no denying it... practical design is a pain in the ass. You want your design to be perfect, but the perfect design is the least of your problems. The client wants the site finished by a certain date, and even if they don't, there are other things to worry about. Is there enough cash coming in to make the business viable? Could your time be best spent on other jobs?
I'm glad I'm involved with the redesign of Boards. If anything, it's a nice leisure activity. I get to do all of the things I would like to do for a commercial web site, but without the pressures I've mentioned constantly grabbing my attention. I really wish I could be doing this with a commercial project, but to make it viable I'd need to charge at least double what I'm charging at the moment.
Speaking of which, the number of volunteers for the BERTs is over 160. Now I need to figure out a nice way for dozens of people to take BERTs as reliably as possible over the web.
Dude. Surf's up, dude.
On Saturday, Dan King (aka Regi) posted an announcement on Boards that said the redesign team needed some help.
I'm the leader of the redesign team. I wanted to do some bipolar emotional response testing on users of Boards to identify the brand of the site. I wrote a document explaining my purposes. So far, we have over ninety people volunteered; and that's not counting the thirty-five that couldn't send me a private message because my inbox was jammed.
The response has been overwhelming. Thanks to everyone who's volunteered; I should have some more information for you by the end of the week.
My blog habit has cropped up some great links recently:
I got a link to Wreckingmebuzz.com via email today. A fantastic name, but not as good as my new domain name. I'm think of making "ihavetheanthrax -at- theviruslab.com" my new personal email address.
About two weeks ago Paul and I headed out to a client to discuss their new website. Paul took some pictures of their facilities for their website. He had loads of film left, so it was out the back garden to snap some shots of me for this site. This is me:


In my church, we have a bookshop. Some of the books make bizarre theological claims or goals, such as "Pokemon are stealing the souls of our children", or the good old "Let's accelerate the second coming!".
But sometimes I'll come across gems like this. I don't know if the copy is any good, but the cover is freakin' brilliant. The expression on the little girl's face is priceless.
In other news, I'm now officially on the sound team for church. That means I get to sit down at the back and twiddle with a 28 channel mixer. And Jay Wilson's "The Daniel Song", which we recorded during the gap between services last Sunday, sounds fantastic.

You heard me. Those filthy grey feathered flying rats. Half of them have club feet because of pigeon leprosy, and all of them are out to get me.
This probably seems paranoid to you. "O", you laugh, "that pigeons are one nuisance of a pest is no excuse for paranoid delusions!" And you'd be right; that is no cause for suspicion of some sort of pigeon conspiracy. What is a reason is the amount of times that I have been cornered, chased and buzzed by pigeons. Just today one came within inches of my head. And that is nothing to the insult that is having stinking pigeon pooh launched into your face.
I will walk down the street, and several pigeons will converge on my position, walling me in until there is no escape. These are the only creatures I can say I would be happy to burn alive (preferably by shooting one of those flaming arrows into them).
So much do I hate them, that I have taken a cue from McDonalds and made a little jingle. It's called Pigeons, and is in my best skanger accent.
Via Jeff Veen, A History of Apple's Operating Systems. A/UX is very interesting.
My friend Conall and I have a problem. We are both Christians who are extremely dirty minded, and who enjoy the company of women with a similar interest in sex and sexuality. Unfortunately, these women seem to be few and far between in Christian circles; at least those who are openly so, and if they are not openly so then we can't have a conversation with them on the topic, can we?

I have an incredibly dirty mind. Take the image attached to this entry. Most people would probably see a two-pixel black line on a white background. When I see this picture, it triggers the same things in my mind as the word vulva. This is only the start of it.
To be honest I reckon a lot of female Christians do have dirty minds, but feel that it's somehow wrong to be interested in sex (or at least express that opinion in public). There's a strange set of taboos hanging around, masquerading as "Christian ideals" when in fact they are either neither Christian or non-Christian, or completely unbiblical.
There is something appealing about a woman who can flirt back, even if it is just for the laugh. So, primarily because of this, Conall and I seem to be mainly attracted to non-Christian women, but we're:
So, where are all the dirty-minded Christian women at? They have to be hiding somewhere. Is there some uber-cool liberal church somewhere around Dublin?
And to Conall: there's your long requested mention. It's a pity it couldn't have been in relation to the website I'm designing for your racing team.
The character formerly known as Darren Greene is now known as Darren Green. This minor change in spelling was forced upon me by the unfortunate mental associations I make with his last name.
It's also a great excuse for this title.
We only had our old (and free) office for a short time, and that time came to an end yesterday. Somehow we managed to cram all the office equipment into Paul's Peugeot 306. This included the following:

Strange things happen to me at an alarming frequency. For part one of this series, I'll be focusing on bizarre attacks.
To the extent that I can understand random violence, I can understand violence with a point. If a person wanted to take my wallet or bag, and they attacked me to get it, I can understand. The violence is a means to an end, not an end in and of itself.
I'm grateful that this has never happened to me, but what has happened is really quite odd. I seem to attract random, pointless agression.
I really am not looking for sympathy. To be perfectly honest, I'm far more puzzled than hurt. I'll recount some of the stranger ones:
Next in the series, the hilarious two reasons I've never had a girlfriend (and not for lack of trying).
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