some links

i thought i would provide two links of some recent stuff that i really liked on the internet. This first one is a digital telescope.

www.worldwidetelescope.org

www.msn.com/downloads

The first is the telescope page itself, but i needed a patch from the second website to get it going. Maybe you have less trouble with it than i did, and if this is the case then maybe you just googled 'worldwidetelescope' and got things going that way.



here is a free nine inch nails album, "The Slip", which was produced and is being given away by trent reznor, thanks dude!

Aside from tracks 3, 6, and 7, i think that all the songs have something to offer. I think the single Discipline is particularly catchy, like the nine inch nails that i like should be. The other truly notable track is Corona Radiata, which is a ambianic side of nin that i wouldn't have really considered until i heard it (*considered it's existance).

http://dl.nin.com/theslip/signup

soul-sniffer

Dark. The alley was so dark that Jake couldn't see the detritus and filth that he was practically wading through, but he could smell it. That wasn't the smell that interested him, though. The smell of rotting cardboard boxes and waste filling his nostrils wasn't why he had come down this alley, like a bloodhound on the hunt. A different smell had caught his attention, the smell of sin. Back at the street, it had been faint, almost undetectable. Now, however, it was getting stronger. It was getting stronger with each step he took down the alley, with his hands in front of him, trying to keep away the invisible obstacles. Walking this way, he kept his nose pointed like a compass toward his expected goal. Down the alley, it was becoming lighter. One of the street lamps wasn't out. The smell was becoming stronger: thievery, deceit for sure, but also despair, drug addiction, and anal sex. In one of the doorways a man was lying, or at least it could have been a man. To Jake's eyes it just seemed to be a ragged bundle of old, dirty clothes, roughly in the shape of a man. Jake stood over the man, and he took a photograph out of his jacket pocket. As he did this the man on the ground started to stir restlessly. As Jake's gaze began to take in the man's features, the man on the ground looked up at him. Physically, he smelled nearly twice as bad as he looked: unshaven, dirty face, with a look of hopelessness that Jake was only too familiar with.

"Clyde Armstrong?" asked Jake.

Although the man did not move or speak, nor make a sound, and even though some people in Jake's place might have said he made no reaction at all, Jake saw in the man's eyes a certain resolve appear in the man's features, and he knew that this was the man that he had come to find. The only problem was what he was going to do next.

"Now, " Jake said to himself, "how am I going to get you out of here?"