I am so sick of visiting the Wikipedia & seeing the banner ad, "Please Read: A personal appeal from Wikipedia founder Jimmy Wales." I have! And until far more progress is made toward the completion of Project RADIANT, I am not going to make a donation. They can't expect me to feel pangs of guilt over being a freeloader, can they? The name of the bloody thing is Wikipedia: The Free Encyclopedia. Free! This is even more annoying than N.P.R. pledge drive week.

Project PANDORA
Fortune favors the bold.

Project MERCATOR
Apologies, no time today to finish "Say 'Aloha!' to Ska," nor to recount the last two roller derby bouts. As soon as possible, but I traverse vast distances this weekend.

The Queue
A Man Called INTREPID is off to a disquieting start. I understood going in that author William Stevenson was very sympathetic toward his subject, the spymaster Sir William Stephenson, but the figure I am being presented with in the book is not merely heroic but superhuman. A superman, or possibly Superman; Theseus, Daedalus, & Adonis rolled up into one too-perfect man. Maybe I've a nasty, suspicious mind, but I smell a rat.

Recently
Len Deighton, Mexico Set
Len Deighton, London Match
Karen E. Olson, Pretty in Ink

Currently
William Stevenson, A Man Called INTREPID: The Secret War

Presently
Rudyard Kipling, Kim
Len Deighton, Spy Hook
Len Deighton, Spy Line

Autobahn
Lumi is in the shop, where the mechanics are chasing down a coolant/anti-freeze leak that is causing a variety of malfunctions. It is refusing adamantly to be located, the coward. In the meantime, my father has been kind enough to permit me to drive his Impala. Interesting this about that car: it's not just one Impala, but two. My father has spend years "tuning" his Impala into a performance machine, including lowering the suspension to the point that the wheels rub up against the wheel wells. (If my father was half as clever as he thinks he is, he'd possess a truly formidable intellect; as it is, like me, he's just smart enough to get himself in over his head.) While poking around the Impala, his favorite mechanic discovered that the frame was rusted to a perilous & shocking degree. So, last Christmas, we drove to the far side of Cleveland where he bought a second, nearly identical Impala on the (relative) cheap. But my father didn't just replace the first Impala with the second, nothing so mundane, he's having the aforementioned favorite mechanic & his minions take the best bits from each motorcar two create two bizarre hybrid automobiles, & not in the popular "green" sense. I've dubbed the current vehicle, more the second Impala than the first, the "Frankimpala" or "Frankenpala" (I've not yet nailed down the spelling), a portmanteau of Frankenstein—though of course I mean not Frankenstein but his Monster, not to be confused with my friend-again Frankenstein's Monster—and Impala. But I should not complain, beggars cannot be choosers; the ongoing repairs to Lumi are not yet essential, but they would have been sooner or later, & in such situations the earlier 'tis caught the cheaper 'tis to repair.

The Rebel Black Dot Song of the Day
The Four Tops, "Reach Out I'll be There" from Motown 1's (T.L.A.M.)

Commentary: Either "Reach Out, I'll Be There" or "Reach Out (I'll Be There)" would be acceptable, but "Reach Out I'll Be There" is a mess. Damned fine song, whatever the title.

"I'll be there,
To give you all the love you need.
And I'll be there,
You can always depend on me."