Dec. 18th, 2007

eldritchhobbit: (Christmas/Spock)
Happy birthday to [livejournal.com profile] tuilelindowen and early birthday to [livejournal.com profile] arkhamdenizen. I hope you both have wonderful days and years to come!

A few items of potential interest:

* SFSite is holding it's 10th Annual Readers' Choice Poll for the Best Read of 2007. Learn how to vote for your favorite books of the year here.

* Dave Itzkoff of The New York Times asks "Have the worlds of science fiction and presidential politics ever been more closely aligned than they were in 2007?" in "Planetary Politics."

* Two links for the Lovecraft fans:
- Vintage Horror has downloads for four adaptations of Lovecraft's stories produced during the "golden age" of radio here.
- An updated list of free Librivox readings of Lovecraft's stories is available here.

* FYI: I am part of the Liberty and Power Group Blog at the History News Network sponsored by George Mason University. You can find my posts there or via LJ at [livejournal.com profile] power_liberty.


Also, I have received some absolutely beautiful holiday cards from my friends. Each of them has made my day! Many thanks to [livejournal.com profile] hapendfro, [livejournal.com profile] thepirateship, [livejournal.com profile] dracschick, [livejournal.com profile] maidoforange, [livejournal.com profile] saffronhouse, [livejournal.com profile] beledibabe, [livejournal.com profile] figmentj, [livejournal.com profile] rhyannonwrites, [livejournal.com profile] estellye, [livejournal.com profile] thrihyrne, and [livejournal.com profile] faramirgirl for your thoughtfulness.


The vineyard country, russet, reddish, carmine-brown in this season.
A blue outline of hills above a fertile valley.
It's warm as long as the sun does not set, in the shade cold returns.
A strong sauna and then swimming in a pool surrounded by trees.
Dark redwoods, transparent pale-leved birches.
In their delicate network, a sliver of the moon.
I describe this for I have learned to doubt philosophy
And the visible world is all that remains.
- Czeslaw Milosz, "December 1st"

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