MUSE LOG - Category: Information    
 Muppetational: The NCN Show!28 comments
picture25 Jul 2004 @ 00:53
Why do we always come here
I guess we'll never know
It's like a kind of torture
To have to watch the show

And now let's get things started
Why don't you get things started
It's time to get things started
On the most sensational inspirational celebrational Muppetational
This is what we call the Muppet Show!

(Gonzo blows his trumpet)

— The Muppet Show

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 Youth Speaks1 comment
picture17 Jun 2004 @ 10:46

...because the next generation can speak for itself

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 2004-15-044 comments
picture15 Apr 2004 @ 00:01

There is talk in some learned circles of our major cities about whether or not satyrs, centaurs, griffins and certain other fantastic beasts really exist, or are only the product of the popular imagination.
I, of course, tend to side with the satyrs, centaurs, and griffins, especially when these beasts begin to doubt the existence of any learned circles in our major cities.
—from The Teaching of Ebenezum - Volume XXXVI
(Craig Shaw Gardner, A Malady of Magicks) More >

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 Creative Programming5 comments
picture5 Feb 2004 @ 13:53
"…the intention was for NCN to have many different nodes. Many local groups and many servers that facilitated people's communication…The weak point is that there isn't multiple servers controlled by different people, and a system in place so that the network communication continues no matter what part of the network drops out."

Ming The Mechanic - 02/22/2002

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 Samhain2 comments
picture31 Oct 2003 @ 17:40
Every step we take on Earth
takes us to a new world.
Every single footstep
lands on a floating bridge.
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 and one more3 comments
picture19 Sep 2003 @ 15:09
sign  More >

 signs again3 comments
picture19 Sep 2003 @ 15:08
And here  More >

 Signs5 comments
picture19 Sep 2003 @ 15:05
While walking in Old Town (Pasadena today)  More >

 Coffee in the Backyard - Chapter 250 comments
picture20 Jul 2003 @ 11:53
Between Tuesday and Wednesday, July fifteenth and sixteenth. It’s nice for a man to know that he is the son of a good father, and of course it is up to the son to make that determination. I can look at the way I reason and at the way I feel towards other people, and how I express myself, and all such mannerisms from my mother’s point of view and understand that she liked what she saw and what she heard. Through their altercations in observations and ways of looking at the world, and at me, there were reconciliations and the bonding of a lifetime attraction. In a sense I am my father, as my mother saw him, and the other way around, and whatever that is, combined with my unique genetic arrangement, has found its way into this school building in a city at the crossroads of two interstates in the middle of the desert. The word of the day is Inspiration. Bill W. and I have developed this word-of-the-day game. Every other day, he or I will pick a word for the day. It’s a greeting and it’s a theme. Where are we at the moment and where will we be all day? Tomorrow is another word. Today it is Inspiration, and where do you get it when you don’t have it? You gotta look for it. You’ve got to find those times when it works for you. For me it seems to be the earliest part of the morning and the latest part of the night, the two sides of sleep. Today, Holly is getting into our word-of-the-day game, as all of this banter is going on in the instructors’ room, where all of our little workstations are piled with our individual piles, assortments, and arrangements of papers and folders and books. Teachers’ crossroads. Four computer grading and attendance stations. The administration keeps a very close track on all of its students, and retention is a priority, striving to keep students who have attendance and academic problems on track and through the program. Teachers need inspiration too. The class is a four or five hour period once a week for each course. Each session has its own quality of impact and interaction, and the key to an evening is setting the tone. That is Twice a Day Dawn. Whatever in life has bent my neck forwards, the doctor is now bending backwards, so that where I have seen trees, I now see bowering boughs, dancing through the evening breeze against the night sky where wind chimes twinkle an arm’s length away. Check out the candlelight as long as it’s here. Candlelight touching Moonlight in the Garden.  More >

 MAILBOX3 comments
picture13 May 2003 @ 11:32
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