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Link soup with a side of death.

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/ap/nation/4516621.html -- alas.
Baaa-aad sheep jokes this way. (Seasonal.)
Wait, so if pulling a should-have-been-harmless prank, and people panic, that's a crime now? Discussion. Terror has won. Let's stop panicking and start laughing our asses off. And good gods, spring the artist.
Courage vow.

I'm not sure how old I was when I first started to make peace with the idea that someday, somehow, somewhen, inevitably, I'd die. I think I was sixteen, because I remember I was writing it in the fabric-covered journal I'd made myself, the one with the glamour shot of me in dad's button-down shirt. Somehow, the fact ceased to terrify me. It was inevitable, so I resolved to make the most of what I had, and try to clear up any regrets I had so if I died the next day, I'd be dying with a clean conscience.

It's not that if I think it's time to die, I'll lie down and die with no fuss. No. I want to live, because I'm not done living yet, and if I think I'm about to die, I'm going to fight tooth and nail. I figure the only way I'll know that it's my time to die is when I'm actually dead and there's nothing I can do about it. But if some idiot plows through a red light when I'm crossing a street, there won't be too many things I've left hanging. If there's still enough of me left around to be pissed off, yeah, I'll be pissed off, especially if it's something senseless. But the fear doesn't consume me at night anymore.

In other law news, your employer may not be liable for damages if they fail to stop you from being an asshat online. Though they might just fire you on general principle, because it's probably against their computer user TOS.

http://www.jkrowling.com/textonly/en/news_view.cfm?id=97 They're Hallows! They're Deathly! They're coming to bookstores near many of us in July!
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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