Linkblogging

MindHacks links to an interesting article in the New York Times on the myth that if a suicidal person is prevented from killing themselves they'll just find another way. It seems that only about 10% or fewer of those prevented from doing so actually go ahead with it, as most suicides are impulsive. Something as simple as putting pills in blister packs can reduce the suicide rate by adding time for the person to think about it and get over the initial impulse.

calixa is watching a cracked-out medical j-drama called Iryu Team Medical Dragon. "MEDICAL DRAGON IS TRAINING HIS BATISTA TECHNIQUE....BY... BY... STANDING SHIRTLESS ON THE ROOF... AND LETTING SMOKE SWIRL ABOUT HIS NAKED BODY...AND... DOING THE HAND MOTIONS OF SURGERY."

The Frontal Cortex quotes Robert Sapolsky on his baboon study and how violence and non-violence seems to be tied with culture.

The Outlaw Design Blog talks about how freelancer artists and designers can increase their referrals.

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Court of the Air by Stephen Hunt. Any good? Also is Jaida Jones or Danielle Bennett a ficcer? 2 girls in bookstore squeeing over Havemercy as if the knew

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one of them.

This evening's adventures...

...or why I haven't done any coloring on chomiji's picture tonight.

I'd just settled into Photoshop, trying to work out how to do the background of the picture, when the power went out. And didn't come back on. And didn't come back on. And didn't come back on. After half an hour, I decided that I needed to go out to dinner, since I wasn't going to be able to cook anything tonight, and then had the OMG what if I can't get out of the garage?! moment.

Discovered that if I'm inside the garage and the power is out, I can open it - pull on a handle hanging from the track, then just lift the door. I am not sure that I can open it from the *outside* if I haven't closed it manually, which means that I really really need to get into the habit of leaving the top deadbolt on the front door unlocked when I'm not at home, because there's no way to open the door from the outside if that deadbolt is engaged and I can't get into the door in the garage.

Went to Borders, where I witnessed two girls who I later decided were round about college-aged squeeing over the Jaida Jones/Danielle Bennett book Havemercy that I texted about. They were all "Look! It's out!" and one of them picked it up and hugged it, and the other stroked the cover a bit, and then they opened it to the back and said "Look! She's so pretty!" and then checked the price, noted they could get it for cheaper on Amazon, put it back on the shelf, and wandered off. I drifted over to see what excited such squeeage, and then texted LJ because otherwise I'd never remember.

After I bought books, I decided I had a MAJOR PROTEIN FAILURE and wanted a big ol' hunk of dead cow. And couldn't find a steak places in the area, and got weak enough from hunger to stop at Bennigan's, where I ended up with a small hunk o'dead cow that had been glazed with a Guinness sauce and was really quite good. So it all ended up well.

Drove home, discovered the power was back on and that by the flashing of my stove's clock, it had been off for an hour and a half. Not doing art tonight, obviously. I think I shall retire to my bedchamber, don my bedclothes, and peruse my novel, which involves a man and his might-as-well-be-sentient tank.