Up, Down.


It's them!
It's me!
Is it us?
Is that it?
The wasp finds its way to the inside of my window, flies away from the glass a bit into the room and then back to the light again and again; doesn't seem to tire. I catch it with a cup and paper and put it out. What does it know of any of this? I can only imagine; very little I expect, nothing theological certainly. What have I done for it? Again, very little.



For the record: exhortations to attend or support any level of involvement with Rio+20 do not elicit one nickle! (And that from a guy who would love any reason to go to Rio.)
A mostly forgettable B movie, Downstream goes more-or-less like this (the 38 second version) - an (apparently) shortlived idyll in Plutopia.
The last days of Osama bin Laden were very much constrained by watchers, everywhere: cell networks, the Internet, email; but government uptake of hacker technology is a no brainer isn't it? Are you surprised that the Stuxnet & Flame viruses seem to originate there?
The dinosaur antidote to (poisonously) clear scientific information is ... disinformation, spread far and wide with the flick of a keystroke. Uncertainty. Gridlock.



Could be a Thomas Pynchon paranoid episode eh? Even Gwynne Dyer's rant on Rio+20 lacks his usual steam.
"...but the, second mother was with the seventh son and they were both out on highway sixty one."
Oh well.
That's it for now gentle reader.
Down.
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