Those Freakin' Guys @ the FCC have Decided to PLay A Game called: Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots

Google (NSDQ: GOOG)'s Android operating system
is one step closer to commercial availability as the first
Android-powered handset has been given the green light by the Federal Communications Commission.

The handset is being made by High Tech Computer, and the documentation confirms that the device is being called the "Dream." Keeping in line with recent reports, the handset will support T-Mobile's 3G network.

But don't take Our word for it head over to Information Week for the full story...

Morphed Out Shark Legs Running for Work

Lips charged for punitive damage. This is a thing that I can't believe. I can't believe it because I do not know how it evolves. A bit of belief is a bit of relief when all is said and done about lips. She has two lips and I cannot allow them to be in pain, but this pain is unavoidable. My cavern drags me on the ground like an old, open trunk being towed behind a home made pickup truck. This is because her lungs are filled with liquid lead. They shouldn't be punished.



She sees I will have to run. So she dares me to run the breath on the back of her neck. Feet are burnt to the ground while my hair stinks the wind. You wouldn't believe that I can move miles and miles and miles without leaving a footprint. Why would you believe? This is the work of morphed out shark legs. They skip and prance and weave through trees, but they cannot out do the speed I have swung fathomless to the surf. They may motivate, but they do not pass. The waters of the world spin around her body. She is fast, fascinatingly, fairly fueled by this sweet electric and cannot get enough. 'Bring me closer. Bring me more.'



New shark management plans and development of new existing shark management plans are needed. Given the wide range of shark distributions and the extensive migration of many species, bilateral and/or multilateral cooperation, assessments, and agreements are needed to understand and manage shark workplace Eco-sustainable…



She can see through man made material. Cosmic light wakes up.

Make a necklace from the teeth. The pain of being your monster has made life insufferable.

None know her name proper but they do know exactly when they look her in the eye.



Fossil records indicate that ancestors of modern sharks swam the seas over 400 million years ago, making them older than dinosaurs. Sharks can hear best at frequencies below 1,000 Hertz which is the range of most natural aquatic sounds



Breathe. There is liquid gold in exhausted air. Nothing is the richness and lavishness that fills lungs. If I could take a knife and carve a spout in my lips I would. For that way I could deeply drink the deep delicious drink which would preciously pour out. I could swim in the pearly pools of life and love. It is a love that only fierce fish know. Fish who have been caught by a fisherman and then thrown back in the ocean because of stupid luck know that love. I want to know that love too.

New Cell Phone Coppalas and Hitchcockers YOUR TIME HAS COME TODAY!

qik is the rage today... watch to see who can use their camera phone the best!
Why not? If you are a video head and want to get the down & dirty on this *NEW* form of homebrewed cinema head over to qik
and 'See what happens'

WoW! As if there was something a reader could tell a writer

Party for Babylon Falling

Who is Babylon ?

{and why we should support its' continued growth}

no matter how the blog-o-razzi quip chittingly about the eminent demise of culture & its' monuments...

Babylon is alive and well. An amorphous entity,Babylon continues to thrive & grow. Whether they sell t-shirt @ market price for festival or festival price for market or crowd up on the captured image/sound/motion, forget about it...

NOTE: a monochromatic photograph

'Jimmy Cliff Revisited, Trenchtown' google it and notice the spelling> in particular 'A UMIMUM' & 'ACCETYLENE'...

Twitters says 'Oh, man! That is so lame. I thought you were going to dish the cake on the Babylon Falling 1 (one) Year Anniversary party & impromptu sidewalk beer bash with all those fabulouso peeps from all those exotic places. Oh, WAHHH! Now i'm gonna have to navigate further down the googly search page to find what i'm looking for.'

Cool your high octane jets, Twit.

I received the invite to this party in e-mail blast format from Babylon Falling dot com blog. As did my loverly Spanish fiancee over yonder in Madrid (The 'almost' Capital City & World HQ of all the world's dragon population) say hi, honey... 'Holaaa, desde Madrid!'

Entering the party I was able to check out the Apocalyptic Ballerina & her lo-tech DJ. Refreshing!

This an excerpt from their site description:

Babylon Falling is a concept driven independent bookstore, located in Lower Nob Hill San Francisco, with a focus on the spirit of Revolution. In addition to new books we also carry similarly themed collectible toys, clothing, posters (original vintage stock, and silk screen re-prints from Ospaaal), artwork, and DVDs.

Revolution surrounds us. On one side of the store the shelves are dedicated to the history, theory, and politics of Revolution. The other wall of shelves is focused on aesthetic and stylistic Revolution and features sections devoted to literature, graphic novels, art, and music. The toys, artwork, clothing, and DVDs compliment and supplement the collection of over 3,000 titles. NO FILLER.

We also host regular events that have included performance art, book signings, and art exhibitions. You can see pictures of our past events here

As the good doctor was fond of saying, "Res ipsa loquitor" - The thing speaks for itself.

Some wackiness over the name Yuske and we're off to the races! Sean, owner of this shoppe nestled snuggly on Bush between Leavenworth & Jones, seemed in high spirits as i entered about 7-7:30. Being that i am the sort who always acknowledges the host I salutated him and grabbed a cup of red...

The thing that impressed me was the fact that the majority of the people, artist {mainly} of various disciplines, were super approachable and willing to chat, even with post-apocalyptic creatures of my style. There's hope, eh?

Babylon Falling stocks books and artworks left of the mainstream circle. If you'd like to get the skinny on the local vibrancy of local literary & artistic culture around SF Proper definitely do yourself the kindness of stopping in and saying hi to Sean and tell him you heard about Babylon Falling.

Experiments in Truth - from the notebooks of Doctor Hedskrǖ

It's a small way to be tortured when you come right down to it.
Stainless steel syringe pushes through the foreskin.
Generic brand Korean black market Sodium Pentothal slides through a pulsing bloodstream.

Nazi war criminals introduced Sodium Pentothal through the southwestern college towns of Texas early in the late eighties. The students took to banging it 'recreational' by the mid-nineties. Everyone and their mother caught its' effects on drunken frat boy reality video.
We've all seen what 'truth serum' does to egotistical drifters and desperadoes when they wise off to giants working the nightclub doors. It is a very small torture in the grand scheme of mortality.

She had planned that there would be a slip up in his story when it came right down to it. She believed so strongly in her feminine intuition of sociological dream interpretation, she could feel her venom rise as the syringe squeezed out the final cc. of truth juice.

- It doesn't mind. - she whispers tying off the rubber hose.

He willingly submitted for two basic reasons. The first and best played on the fact that he had nothing to hide. He hadn't slept with any other creature since he met her five years ago. He knew her mind to be clouded with the steady diet of ornately tapestried fictions.

Her mind a-blaze with images of young cosmopolite bodies lacking inhibition. She watched and read way too much. She imagined truths which would never come to past. This is a common problem among word people, especially writers of fiction.

Besides this reason he submitted quietly because, at least, she hadn't mentioned anything about the 'Stripper'. It wasn't the idea of the 'Stripper' being rubbed along his scrotum which concerned him. There is a hyper-pleasure associated with having your sack completely and professionally drained. He had it on first hand authority from the guys in Retail Division.

- She could suck the data off my silicon…any day. -

If you think the 'Stripper' is 'top-of-the-line…' at sucking large clusters of data off corporate governmental HDs and DVDs consider the electronic thrill of having your own polarity consumed by this marvelous device.

T'is the major problem, you see? He has been diagnosed as VoltPhobic. It's not like he started out with a fear of touching electrical appliances. He quite liked the idea as a youth. His earliest childhood electrical memory, after grabbing a toaster and stainless steel faucet, was that of a nine volt battery logo representing black lightning bolt cats each chasing the others tail up his arms, along his spine and finally, playfully patting his brain with sharp little paper thin claws.

He hadn't figured it for a problem until a talk show host brought it to his attention. Then making light of it to the company medical office had really proved he was a phobie. As sure as stink on Sunday morning this fear would ruin his life if he kept it hidden in denial.

Doctor Hedskrǖ filed many psych- grants to research and treat his unique phobic reaction of laughing and ejaculating at the point of contact. Luckily, his sweet Tormentress knew nothing of his condition.

the act of taking in raw data and taking an action based on the category of the data

At my job they never tell me anything. Literally. I step to the cube and everything gets eerily silent. My fellow workers refuse to acknowledge my presence. Weird, huh? Maybe they've read my new poem over @ SomaLit Maybe they've heard me ranting about the expensive dentistry in Amerka where it's easier to start a war than get your teeth fixed. Maybe the heard about Gavin and his crew of hepcats starting to roll out a grassroots wi-fi project (Gosh! I'm sure nobody ever thought of Citywide-WiFi before) Maybe they heard that I got an autographed copy of Pattern Recognition Needless to say I have been busy lately,...

NuevaDrid said...

Maybe your fellow workers are only set to feel some sort of sympathy for television celebrities.

Needless to say I miss you.

1:08 PM

Now the day & the time have come...

What are you waiting for, my little cabbage heads? Do you think you will show the world how good you are by taking all the money and rubbing it all over your body like the Mastodon stuck in the La Brea tarpits on a lost weekend down 66? Maybe you think you can impress your mama by doing exactly what she says... line by line; syllable by syllable... Think that will work? The End of the End won't work in a 'proof'-ed formula... so sorry... Change is the only constant and if you haven't got to that yet get ready for your entire perspective to collapse into itself before blooming into organic fractals...

4-11 Posting to the Peaceful People and Pacific Daylight Time

The Shape of What it is...
enjoying the looks caused by perspectives of the so called 'normal' and the 'teachers' of style
We ride head long into the fog screaming "Summertime! Summertime!" PMPope is a bit on the side of the Stranded... They need more Love... so they come to SFCA and the Edge World Studions or Citywide-WiFi or Edge Data or the International Apartment & they know THEN there are all sorts of them out there and the We are the lonesome in the groups of pick-up sticks to think they compete with the Time and the Gravity and the downward spiral of youth and glamour.... It's just ridiculous that Life is so cheap for some of the people and so precious for others they start to cry while they drink in the Sun or see an old person sing a child's song.... WoW!

China wants to be the Mack... Bush wants to be the Mack... England & Germany want to Mack out... Amerika has always been Amerika and even the snotty self-serving Usenet brats know that... hey, It's not our fault we have the East Coast & the West Coast, Texas & Wisconsin, The Statue of Liberty and the Golden Gate Bridge, ... not our fault... Somebody has to sing the blues and innovate and evolve... Land Ho! Pioneers & Patriots! Natives & Immigrants! We are the We the People and that's what it is.

Monkey VS. Cat - Christmas San Francisco 2007

Beware the fury of a patient man. -- John Dryden

I'm going to speak on a metophorical tone for a moment. If you get where I'm coming from you're doing better than 50% of the people on this planet. -Don't stick your hand in the tiger's cage.- You don't have to take this as a threat. I am not threatening you. If you were born in the jungle you may have grown, into a fine, civilized human being, with the common sense to understand this for what it is. This is a rule of survival.

A tiger is an animal of unmittigated cunning. So cunning, in fact, it's cuddly feline appearance may oft' times lead more naive animals into the mistaken belief it is simply a big pussycat. Beware the pussycats. They have the ability to become cunning and cruel at the drop of a hat.

There are many juveniles on the planet unable to fathom the depth of this, or any, creature's wild nature. Animals are soft, cuddly cartoons. Animals are what the parents buy to compensate for exorbitant babysitting fees. {sidenote: babysitters: What are they really after?}

-Don't stick your hand in the tiger's cage.-
The more spoiled a child is raised the less respect it has for the very real mortal danger of living. Felinus domesticus is a slighter descendant of the lion, leopard, or tiger family of big cats. If you have been trained to interact with these creatures at a carnival or zoological sideshow in a more or less laboratorially controlled environment, then... and only then... maybe you could walk away with your arm still connected to your shoulder. Even then the outcome is dependent on the humor of the cat on this particular day. There is no Hollywood script for a tiger. Behind their eyes swirl the mysteries of the ages. 'Professional animal handlers' know what makes these big cats tick, they have 'hands-on' experience, and still they know enough to never take these creatures for granted. Just because you play the wii or the ps2 doesn't even begin to suggest that you could escape with your heart still beating after a slightly pms tigress gets her claws into you. The attack of a tiger is ferocity exemplified. Make your peace with the Lord God Almighty before you stick your hand in that cage, boy.

Let's call you the lucky monkey, shall we? You step right up, stick your hand between the barrier of civilization and primordial eternity... the tiger leaps... all claws, fangs, and stripes barrel assing towards your little monkey paw. You retract the offer. Twelve to fifteen inches of razor sharp hooks burst through the same barrier. They plow four gashes through your Louis Vitton varsity jacket. A crimsom liquid rushes the torn material. After all, you're the lucky monkey. A couple of authoritarian lumberjacks open fire and the cat goes down. Lucky,...lucky... lucky.

There have been humans eaten by cats since the beginning of history. Check out a museum,an art gallery, a library, the world wide web,... The information is out there. Educate yourself if noone is willing to take you by the hand and tell you -Don't stick your hand in the tiger's cage.-

Personally, I find that zoological gardens always leave me gray. I guess if anyone wants to rid the world of terrorism and terroristic attacks they could quite possibly make a big name for themselves by stopping the subhuman, lowlifes that would kill one of God's most stunning creatures, by this I mean the poachers and not the defenders of civilization. I live in this place which has been named after a very particular, very peculiar saint. He was of the inspired ideology 'If God loves the birds of the sky, how much more does He love us?' Even if you get rushed out of the zoo in an ambulance, you're the lucky monkey.

Those gentlemen with the artillary, or firesticks as we used to call them are our explanation of how far we have come from beating off the creeping nocturnal beasts. They are the necessary defense for the antics of lucky monkeys who stick their arms in the tiger's cage. It's a thankless job but even in the 21st century it seems still of necessity.

I will pray for the soul of the child who stuck it's arm in the tiger's cage. More so will I weep for the extinction of Tatiana.