just waiting for my ante-1337 bakelite casemod (or would that be post-'leet?)

The Other Michael is a constant source for legacy technology; remnants of the past that appear in the present, standing out like a sore thumb in some cases, coasting under the radar in others. Most recently he pointed me at two items of interest:

ElectriClerk, a prop for a Call of Cthulu game that is a mixed-signal of UI if there ever was one: it looks like the user-hostile, arcane machines from Terry Gilliam's Brazil, but has an Apple Macintosh at its heart.
A working manual typewriter, modified to be used as a PC keyboard. "It works."

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blogging non-tech-type people stories

bouncer cook waiter photoblog for gypsies, taxi drivers, and prostitutes ( memepool and boingboing )

dan simmons’ fiction

“I came back for my own purposes,” said the Time Traveler, looking around my booklined study. “I chose you to talk to because it was . . . convenient. And I don’t want you to do a goddamned thing. There’s nothing you can do. But relax . . . we’re not going to be talking about personal things. Such as, say, the year, day, and hour of your death. I don’t even know that sort of trivial information, although I could look it up quickly enough. You can release that white-knuckled grip you have on the edge of your desk.” I tried to relax. “What do you want to talk about?” I said. “The Century War,” said the Time Traveler. I blinked and tried to remember some history. “You mean the Hundred Year War? Fifteenth Century? Fourteenth? Sometime around there. Between . . . France and England? Henry V? Kenneth Branagh? Or was it . . .” “I mean the Century War with Islam,” interrupted the Time Traveler. “Your future. Everyone’s.” He was no longer smiling. Without asking, or offering to pour me any, he

my.bicycle

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