In the news.

I am bizarrely obsessed with the saga of Condoleezza Rice and Peter MacKay. In case you haven't heard about it, there's currently a lot of gossip about Rice and MacKay, the Canadian foreign minister. Like, the press thinks they're hot for each other. There's a hilarious New York Times article about it: Dance of Diplomacy Is Grist for the Gossip Mill (you have to register to read it, but registration's free). Here are some excerpts:

( Poetry and candlelight dinners )

All right, so let me just state for the record: I HATE CONDOLEEZZA RICE. Like, I seriously detest her. And I don't know anything about Peter MacKay besides that he's Canadian and his last name's MacKay, two things that admittedly make me predisposed to like him, at least a little bit, and thus make me unwilling to stick him with Condi. But. But. I don't know, man! I'm a hopeless romantic, and I really do want to believe that everyone has the capacity to become a better person. And in this case, by "become a better person," I mean quit your job as an evil Republican stooge and fuck a Canadian.

ETA: Thanks to sperrywink, here's a link to the Colbert Report piece on the story. Go here and click on "Sexy Photo." Peter MacKay is a pirate!

ETA2: Please to encourage vassilissa's brilliance.

ANYWAY. People are clearly not writing enough SGA porn, if this is what my thoughts are turning to.

But speaking of bizarre intersections of reality and TV, psychopepsquad sent me this link: Baby Bang Experiment Could Open Door to New Dimension. Check out that photo. That thing could not be more Stargate if it tried.

Dear LJ--

Thank you for deciding that my layout (and my gorgeous banner! *clings to siriaeve*) suddenly doesn't exist. In your opinion, should I 1) freak out and start fiddling with it, 2) wait and hope it fixes itself on its own, or 3) drive up to San Francisco and start throwing tomatoes at you guys?*

No love,

Trin

*Well, okay, obviously No. 3 would be an overreaction, not to mention a waste of perfectly good produce. But WTF, man?