more goddamn photos of Hawaii

Okay, since the Northeast is digging itself out of that massive snowstorm, I *know* these are just what everybody wants to see to cheer themselves up:

Here's Waikiki:










Here's Haleiwa (North Shore):







The King Kamehameha Day Parade a couple of years ago-- Pa'u riders:



And the cart for the horse poo:



And one of the Hawaiian floats:




A view from Iolani Palace park:




The State Fair:




A view over Honolulu and Diamond Head:





And finally sunset at Ala Moana Beach Park:





It's photos today instead of writing, because I spent most of my free time re-formatting Wave of Incarnations so that the font is a decent, attractive size. (I just received my galley today.)

The final, ISBN-approved edition is available here.

laughter by any other name would be something else

Two jokes from a friend in England:

Man walks into a bar and says
"Ouch!"

***

Two men sitting at bar.
Man1: Your round, I think.
Man2: And you're a fat bastard, yourself.

***

These two are from Private Eye:









And, finally, since I'm feeling wabbit depwivation today, here's Alba the fluorescent bunny: (Why she's fluorescent is here.)

The Univ. of Hawaii Manoa Library Flood of October 30, 2004-- A Greek/Polynesian Tragedy In One Act

CHORUS, upstage center, flowers in their hair, wearing loose Isadora Duncan robes, shaking tambourines: Our Hamilton Library is a solid, modern, concrete multistory building incorporating latest temperature/humidity controls to protect our millions of valuable books! Our Hamilton Library is a solid, modern, concrete multistory building incorporating latest temperature/humidity controls to protect our millions of valuable books!

MR. CHANG, large Chinese-haole comfortable 30yo pseudo-Hassidic sincere presence, entering the office with lowered brow: Hey, I just went up to U.H. Manoa to check out the Halloween costumes, and you know-- After that flood yesterday, there are tables and chairs in the trees!!!

PORTIA, dramatic fun-loving Chinese person, pointing index finger to rainy heavens, not a rainbow in sight: A car floated past our house down the middle of the street!

DISGRUNTLED WHITE-HAIRED, RED-FACED PH.D. BIOLOGIST, office and laboratory located in the basement of Hamilton Library, murmuring hoarsely over and over, like the leftover pieces from the chant intended to forestall death: I lost 35 years of fruit fly research in one night. I lost 35 years of fruit fly research in one night. I lost 35 years of fruit fly research in one night. I lost... (continues to repeat this sentence like 78rpm platter stuck on one groove for the amusement or curiosity appeasement of His Master's Voice dog, head cocked alertly to one side)

VOLUNTEERS, lots and lots of them, dirt-caked, in worn blue jeans and ragged t-shirts, dancing stage center in a Moulin Rouge cancan line, singing like He's Going to Marry Yum Yum: We've been up to our ears in mud, tra la! For three months at least or yet more, tra la! The historic docs are history, The windows should have been clerestory, We're still up to our ears in mud, tra LA!!!

MASTER OF CEREMONIES, lean and covered in white elegant or decadent pancake make-up with heavy eyes, cheekbones, and lips, a la Marcel Marceau or Joel Gray, swinging thin black cane to trasparent web addresses projected high on new white film screen directly behind the upstage chorus: You can check our beloved U.H. Manoa Hamilton Library updates here. And see photos of the horrible flood devastation here.

CHORUS: Our Hamilton Library will re-open again! Our Hamilton Library will re-open again!

sunny and 74F

Okay, many cool friends live in places far farther north and northeast. One of them broke off chatting yesterday to drive home before the snowstorm got too surreal and the traffic too lethal. Another emailed that the snow inspires a definite longing for Hawaii.

Here are a couple of photos for the winter-imprisoned:









Yeah, that's Sunset Beach in winter last year, and Yes, once you move Ewa from the lifeguard shack, there's no one on it. Tragic, isn't it?

If you like listening to Hawaiian music while you surf, click here.

news from other parts of the tropics

This is from Frankamente.
It's a sign on the door of a Cathedral of San Sebastian in Brazil, and it means: "Visitors-- No entry permitted in bathing suits. Thanks."
We have similar signs in Honolulu, but this one excels in coolness. The scroll kind of gives it a divine authority. Though it is a bit shocking to see it posted on the door of a church.

a haunting moment

The year-before-last, I was working in a cream-colored ex-palace with high arched windows and a giant banyan tree in the courtyard. The palace floated, big and tall and airy, and the ground floor hall and offices stretched empty and dark because renovations were slated for the following fiscal year (or so the legend went). The basement had been a morgue in pre-Territorial days (or so another legend went). In consequence, Voices were supposed to haunt the rooms. I did hear the voices, but since they frequently said things like "STAR 101.9-- YOUR NEW MUSIC STATION!" or "Plaintiff was NOT in privity with Defendant!" (the Intermediate Court of Appeals worked upstairs), I attributed them to the ancient and weird air conditioning ducts and the proximity of kids with radios waiting at the bus stop outside.

I arrived one morning to my totally dark cool corner of the building, the 12' tall curtains still drawn over the various dim windows.

A high-pitched trill like the irate cry of Huitzilopochtli the Mayan war/blood god poured through the room.

I stopped and contemplated, motionless as the Winged Victory on the staircase of the Louvre. Yes, I have a head and arms. No jokes.

I could wait for the volunteer who manned the parking permit desk--a true kahuna (Hawaiian priest), qualified to bless things and to lay spirits to rest--to come in, or I could open the curtains and let the sun in. Kill the vampires.

Glass resonates. When I opened the drapes, I saw that the current Voice came from a 3" long green gecko, suction-cupped to the window with tiny fingered feet. Clearly it had moved in from its previous residences in the outdoor mailbox and the after-hours over-the-door lighting fixture.

Geckos are good luck. I heard the Gecko call my name.

Quote I Feel Most Applicable to Me on My Birthday (with appropriate gender modifications)

"He is simply a shiver looking for a spine to run up."
--Australian Prime Minister Paul Keating