Someone should start the First Church of Fabulousness

The only tenet of which should be, “Two people who love each other should be allowed to marry.” Maybe two tenets, the other being, “Be excellent to one another,” which has its plusses, too.

At which point, the opportunity to have same-sex marriages becomes one of religious freedom. To restrict such marriages becomes a first-amendment issue, which carries more weight than equal protection, apparently.

Of course, I would hope that many heterosexual couples would also want to get married in the First Church of Fabulousness–it being fabulous, see–but, you know, they, too, could exercise their right to choice.

Kindle 2, redux

“Just a little shy of two months ago”:, I noted that I really, really liked the looks of the Kindle 2, etc., but that I simply could not in good faith allow someone else to hold my content hostage via DRM.

No doubt people scoffed at the possibility. Two months later, “it happened to someone”:

And I’m sure as hell never buying one.


I might have read a copy of Starlog a quarter of a century ago…

but certainly not in recent memory.

The news that it’s ceasing print publication and trying to make it as a web-only publication really doesn’t impact me at all. But “Mark Evanier”: linked to “a post from Lee Goldberg”: about the magazine that includes an amusing anecdote about covering the premeire of “The Living Daylights” while writing for the magazine:

bq.. All the journalists were invited by the studio to the premiere, which Prince Charles and Lady Diana were attending as well. We had to wear tuxedos and were driven to the event in limos. There were huge crowds being held back behind barracades in front of the Odeon Theatre as we pulled up. I got out of the limo just as a short young lady was emerging from the limo in front of me, so we walked in together. People were going nuts, taking pictures of us and waving. I leaned over and whispered to her: “Makes you wish you were famous, doesn’t it?”

She laughed, patted my arm, and we parted in the lobby. Almost immediately I was swarmed by my fellow reporters. One of them asked “Do you know who you were walking with?”

I had no idea. I figured she was another reporter. He told me it was Chrissie Hynde of the Pretenders. I still had no idea who she was. So either she thought my remark was clever or that I was a complete dolt for not knowing who she was. But I like to think that somewhere out there is a photo from that event with a caption like “Chrissie Hynde with unidentified lover.”

p. Can’t beat that.