Getting a late start today, but I still have some interesting reading for you to do.

Tell me if you’ve heard this story before: legislator puts forth a bill which targets a mostly powerless group of people, then withdraws it when its onerous requirements are potentially turned around on him.

So winter finally showed up in Des Moines this week. It’s been a nice run, what with temperatures in the 50s, but yesterday it barely got above 20, and I’ve been looking for a tauntaun to slaughter and climb inside of ever since.

I woke up yesterday, saw that the temperature outside was 36 degrees and thought “that’s not so bad.” I think I’m adjusting to the idea of winter, though it’s still early yet.

I already watch Mythbusters regularly, but I can’t wait to see this episode, given that they accidentally shot a cannonball through someone’s house.

So two days ago, I walked to work in the snow. Flurries–it didn’t stick except on the grass in the shade–but snow nonetheless, enough for my 8-year old self living in Big Branch, Louisiana to crap himself in glee to see.

Happy Saturday. I hear the hot new seasoning for food this year is some kind of spray-on pepper. I’ll be looking for it in my local market.

How does the rest of the world see Thanksgiving?

It’s been clear for a long time that former Kansas Senator and current Kansas Governor Sam Brownback is a restaurant-quality asshole, but this is an impressive display by any standard.

I’m typing this with one arm arched over a cat who refuses to move from in front of my laptop. I was at work all day and she missed me, so I can’t really be too whiney about it.

Say hello to the person who plans to kill credit cards.

I’d like to take a moment to thank everyone who commented on or liked or otherwise communicated their appreciation for “The Spirit of Violent Lamentation.” I’m glad it touched people in a positive way. Also, it was a complete coincidence that Roxane Gay’s piece on the language of sexual violence went up around the same time.

Some mornings I wish I had an automatic coffee dispenser right next to my desk. Most mornings, actually.

Over at Slate, Ron Rosenbaum takes apart Anonymous, the new Shakespeare conspiracy theory movie, beautifully.

How big a role does expectation play in your ability to tell the difference between good wine and bad?

I’ve begun the task of getting actual winter clothes for the first time in my life. It’s funny to watch, I imagine. I walk into a store and don’t even recognize what some of these things are. Pity me.

The Occupy Wall Street protests are gaining some momentum, thanks to support from unions.

I’ve got coffee in my Dalek mug and Gladys the Mucus Machine riding shotgun. What could go wrong?

Given Steve Almond’s lamentation on what we lost that we published yesterday, I think it’s also worthwhile to look at what the US response to the 9/11/2001 attacks has cost.

So an hour after this goes up, I’ll be leading an informal wine-tasting. My new job has its perks. I’ll probably be the only one spitting, though.

What would you do for a free hotel room?

A reminder that we have way more to fear from zealots than zombies.

To our friends on the east coast dealing with Hurricane Irene–be safe. I know from experience it’s unlikely that any of you are reading this, but even so. A storm like this one is nothing to mess with, even if it’s strangely beautiful when seen from this angle.

Happy Saturday everyone! The splint is off, the coffee is hot, the English Premier League is streaming on my second screen, and I’m starting a new job on Monday.

Look at these photos from inside the Fukushima Nuclear Plant.

It’s crazy that 90% of computer users don’t know about ctrl+f for finding things, and it’s cool that Google has something called a “search anthropologist.”

This is an important part of our nation’s history, and it should be a part of the National Park System.

If you’re not going to observe Texas Gov. Rick Perry’s day of prayer, might I suggest the Day of Debauchery & Gluttony. I’ll be the guy with two feedbags and a Bushmill’s IV drip.

If you leave your microphone near an anthill and turn the recorder on, this is what you’ll probably end up with.

I had the most perfect onion rings yesterday. I’ll probably rave about them for weeks.

Want to know what Richard Nixon testified to during the Watergate hearings? if a federal judge gets his way, you’ll have the chance to read it.

Good morning from Iowa! Yes, I have relocated from one place of blistering heat and humidity to a midwest in the middle of a heatwave with BONUS! a real winter to boot. Stay tuned for posts about my attempts to learn to shovel snow (or learn to bribe a neighborhood kid to shovel snow for me) as the year continues.

This time next week, I’ll be living in Des Moines, Iowa. Anyone want to help me unload a truck?

I had some minor food allergies as a kid, and I carried an inhaler back when that sort of shit got you beaten up in grade school, but Sandra Beasley has it way worse.

You ever feel like the invisible hand of the market has been touching you inappropriately?

I don’t think there’s any place that feels emptier than an abandoned amusement park. These pictures of Six Flags New Orleans are really powerful.

How does a body go unnoticed in a public swimming pool for two days?

New York made same-sex marriage legal last night. They’re the sixth state to take that step, and the largest so far. What are the rest of us waiting for?

Take a rubber tree plant and hook it up to a self-watering mechanism calibrated to the price of Home Depot’s stick price and you get Spore 1.1, a study in frustrating the empathic impulse.

Because there are not enough cat sites on the internets.

Dahlia Lithwick asks how judges can decide if threats against their colleagues are protected by the First Amendment.

Remember Senator John Kyl’s statement about Planned Parenthood that wasn’t intended to be a factual statement?

It’s day two of National Poetry Month, which means it’s day 2 of our poem-a-day project. Today’s poem is from Sandy Longhorn, and you can get to all Rumpus Original Poems here.

The Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear plant is now leaking highly radioactive water into the ocean.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a couple of pieces on The Wire, probably my favorite television show ever. The first is in The Threepenny Review, by W. S. DiPiero, a piece called “Who Shot Snot?” The second, by way of Hannah Miet at We Who Are About to Die, reimagines The Wire as a forgotten Victorian novel.

Tonight, Supermoon! I would like to note for the record that I am excited for this because of how cool it will look, and not for any astrological reasons.

About that NY Times paywall, this doesn’t seem like the most effective way to find stories you want to read.

This week for me contains both Mardi Gras and Spring Break. Unfortunately, my hangovers hurt too badly these days for me to give this convergence the honor it deserves.

This is one of those stories that’s utterly unsurprising when you hear it, but it’s nice to know all the same.

So last Saturday morning, instead of blogging for you the way I usually do, I was standing behind a table at the AWP book fair with an over-caffeinated Isaac Fitzgerald watching him close people so hard that Blake from Glengarry Glen Ross would have been impressed.

Why don’t you buy my book?

If you’re in south Florida and looking for something to do tonight, come by 18 Rabbit Gallery and check out the Sound Art show. I’ve seen some of the pieces already–my partner (and Rumpuser) Amy Letter created one of the exhibits–and they’re fascinating.

Guess who’s got copies of his new book for sale.

The surprise news last night was that Keith Olbermann’s show on MSNBC is no more. The interesting thing about the story is that no one can seem to agree who left whom.

Happy New Year, folks. Let’s see what the internets have to offer on 1/1/11 (or 1/1/11 if you’re using the European method).

I think this story from Kentucky pretty much sums up the political situation in the US of 2010.

Harper’s is even more of a downer in their year in review.

I’ve been flirting with one for days, ever since the end of the semester, but I think today I actually have a full-blown hangover. Take it easy on me, would you?

If this works–and I haven’t tried it out personally yet–it could be a huge jump in translation technology.