The Russians are Here!

[rejectomorph]

There was a steaminess to the day. First, the afternoon clouds looked like puffs of steam left by some passing giant of a celestial locomotive. Then, the evening sky turned gray with cloud that was like a steam so dense and vast that it occluded the sun. The damp in the air was like hot condensation, and it felt as though I had been transported to the tropics. I half expected rain, but nightfall brought a clearing, and the fattened crescent of the waxing moon now floats among stars, as light as the jasmine fragrance of the soft air.

At last it is cool enough to run Sluggo for a while, and I found something interesting. evan writing in metajournal points to an online article by e_g about the large Russian community at LJ. I first came across a journal in Russian a few weeks after arriving at the site, and later learned that the Russians were one of the largest groups represented here. I've been curious about this ever since, and have frequently seen posts in Russian in various community journals, especially found_objects, but since I don't speak Russian, I've never found out much about how that group of users arrived at LJ or how it grew so large. This article answers a lot of questions. I haven't had the chance to finish reading it yet (it's quite long) but the parts I have read are fascinating.

And, from the ever-entertaining jwz, further proof (as if such were needed) that clowns are evil: Can't sleep; clowns will molest me! (WARNING! CLOWN PHOTOGRAPH!)

Comments

[rejectomorph]

I always knew that Spanky would grow up to be evil.

[m-leprae.livejournal.com]

Mama's don't let your babies grow up to be clownboys,
don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such

Mama's don't let your babies grow up to be clownboys
cause they'll never stay home and they're always alone
even with someone they love

A clownboy ain't easy to love
And he's harder to hold
And it means more to him to give you a song
Than silver or gold
Budweiser buckles and soft faded Levi's
And each night begins a new day
If you can't understand him
And he don't die young
He'll probably just ride away

A clownboy loves smokey ole pool rooms
And clear mountain mornings
little warm puppies and children and girls of the night
them that don't know him won't like him
and them that do sometimes won't know how to take him
he's not wrong; he's just different
But his pride won't let him do things
to make you thing he's right

Mama's don't let your babies grow up to be clownboys,
don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks
make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such

Mama's don't let your babies grow up to be clownboys
cause they'll never stay home and they're always alone
even with someone they love

[rejectomorph]

Some call them clownboys, and some call them clownpokes.

I've even heard them called clownhands.

But I'll always think of them as Old Paint shitkickers.

[m-leprae.livejournal.com]

"Rudolph the red-nosed clownboy...."