Saturday, April 15, 2006

what jesus don't know won't hurt him

Today is Holy Saturday, a special day even if you don't happen to have been raised Catholic. Here's the timeline: Jesus has the Last Supper on Thursday. Friday, He's crucified. On Easter Sunday, He rises again. But what about Saturday?

Saturday was the day Jesus chilled out in the tomb. Easter was gonna be a big deal, so he rested up. That means Jesus is not around, and as I understand it, moral law is pretty much suspended that day. Do what you like. What Jesus don't know won't hurt him.

Churches seem to feel the same way. You can't get married on Holy Saturday, or have a funeral that day. It's the Pope's way of making sure everyone has the day off, and can do what they like. Even the altar in church is stripped bare, as if the vestments themselves are taking a day off. We've all left early when the boss is on vacation, so why should a tabernacle be any different?

It's important not to abuse the privilege. If your parents leave for the weekend and you throw a party, you better clean things up before they return. In the same way, make sure whatever sinful debauchery you engage in on Holy Saturday is out of your system by Sunday, or else Jesus is going to be pissed. Jesus thinks you're mature enough that he can spend one single Saturday away, so don't violate His trust and ruin it for everyone else. Even three betrayals of the Lord before the cock crows are OK - provided the betrayals don't get out of hand and stretch into early Sunday morning.

So use the Lord's name in vain, dishonor your parents, and covet everything you see today. Who's gonna say anything? But when the clock strikes twelve, your sins turn back into pumpkins, so clean up that language before it's time to hunt eggs. I'm looking at you, Simon Peter.

Friday, April 14, 2006

unsexy descriptions of sex

Inspired by this
Laurell K. Hamilton comment

"Wait," he whispered, caressing her bound hands with a light touch. Pierre sensually lifted the remote control and with a dextrous yet gentle finger, unpaused the DVD of "The Lion King".

He returned to Desiree, his warm breath on her trembling neck making her loins vibrate.

Pierre hesitated before commencing with his ravishment of her. "I just have a question," he said, as Desiree strained against her bonds. "Can you feel the love tonight?"

* * *

Antonio looked across the table. Graciela stared back at him, big blue yes brimming over with liquid eye lust.

"Did you enjoy the expensive and elegant meal?" asked Antonio.

"Yes," answered Gabriela, in a totally hot way.

"We have dessert," began Antonio, but Gabriela shushed him with just a look and a shushing gesture. What she said next totally gave Antonio a boner.

"I want your thingy," she said. "I want to touch that thingy, and look at that thingy. All of that thingy. That's what my girl-thingy wants."

Antonio swept the styrofoam cartons aside. He kissed Gabriela with his lips and tongue. "Baby, I want to, you know," he said.

"Yes," she whispered. "I do know."

Then they were totally doing sex.

* * *

Karen broke away from her passionate embrace with Stephen. "I have to ask you something," she said. "What is lembas?"

"Lembas?" he asked. "Why, it's an Elvish waybread invented by Melian, the queen of Doriath. Elves often used it for sustenance during an extended journey."

"So, why do all the girls call you that?"

Stephen blushed. "I didn't know you had heard that nickname. They call me that because I'm very satisfying, and if wrapped in magical leaves, I last a long, long time."

Karen smiled and beckoned to Stephen. He attacked her lips like Beren, son of Barahir, assaulted Angband in his attempt to snatch a Silmaril from the Iron Crown of Morgoth, which was later stolen by dwarves after they sacked the fair land of Doriath.

"O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!" he cried, as he entered her. She felt as soft as the banks of the Brandywine, as rare as mithril.

"Steven," Karen gasped. "Talk Elvish to me."

He smiled. "High-Elven, or Grey-Elven?"

Monday, March 27, 2006

zembla scoops the sydney morning herald

It's not nearly as exciting as the time Zembla got ahead of The Onion, but Zembla broke the story of Aussie funnyman Dan Ilic's legal troubles over a parody ad one day before The Sydney Morning Herald ran a story about the legal threats on its front page. I would link to the post on Zembla, but if Zembla weren't abandoned and desolate right now, I wouldn't be hanging out in New Wye.

Rather hilariously, Downwind Media created four "remixes" of the ad, removing the soundalike music that so agitated Tourism Australia in the first place. The "special editions" have been a hit - collect all four! However, you may have trouble accessing Downwind Media, as they've been suffering from a DDOS attack for the last few hours. One must wonder if it's mere coincidence that the controversy and publicity over the parody ad happened on the same day Mr. Ilic's site got bombed.

Although Zembla has also gone down due to DDOS issues this week, informed sources assure me that digital pirates are responsible, schoolyard bullies in hacker form demanding protection money from a poor humble DNS provider. Tourism Australia may be a foolish, litigious, and bullying company that eats dingos and/or babies, but they have probably not tried to take down my website. Just Mr. Ilic's.

Anyway, Mr. Ilic's internet famousness continues to explode, the Sydney Morning Herald continues to set the standard for Aussie print journalism that I read online, and I continue to track the story. What will happen next? A cease-and-desist order? A frivolous lawsuit? Squirrels gnawing on motherboards? Do they have squirrels in Australia? Will Tourism Australia have to train a wallaby to sabotage computers?

Oh, internet fairness and equality, where the bloody hell are you?

You can watch the original ad right here and the parody ad here.

welcome to new wye

Hello and welcome to New Wye, the temporary home of the Zembla you know and love when Cementhorizon is unavailable. Zembla's server continues to be attacked by pirates, hackers, and possibly even a squirrel, and has been for the past few weeks. Rather than deprive the Internet of its Sean Keane goodness, such goodness will be moved here until the real Zembla is again accessible.

A note on the name: "Zembla" is the distant northern kingdom in Nabokov's Pale Fire, which may only exist in the delusional mind of the novel's unreliable narrator. "New Wye" is the university town in the same novel, the real-world setting for the novel's action, such as it is. While Zembla is a place of questionable reality, subject to the vagaries of memory and the whim of imagination, New Wye is solid, a concrete location.

Zembla currently exists only in the imaginations and memories of its many fans worldwide. Unless Blogger gets attacked by robots and its programmers stalked by crazed anti-royalist assassins, New Wye isn't going anywhere. Sit back, relax, and spend some time in New Wye, just until Zembla is fixed up and ready to go.

Or, you know, disappears forever. It could really go either way when squirrels are involved.