Déjà vu, expanded

I’ve done this before. Ever since I was pretty young, I’ve been fascinated by islands and the idea that I could live on one. I think it started when the family would go out to visit great-grandfather Ray out on South Padre Island on the Gulf coast in Texas. We would often take a little thirty car ferry, which was pretty neat for a young boy, especially when porpoises would play in the wake of the boat.

One of the most enjoyable ways to poke around the web is to look at private islands. Of course, there are a lot of islands for sale out there. People often think that private islands are for the extremely rich, but in reality there are a number of cheap islands available too. The one I just linked is less than 30,000 Canadian (fake) dollars, and it even has a little one room cabin on it. That would be a pretty neat place to spend a summer vacation. Of course, there are plenty of expensive islands too. You can find private islands in Belize, or Greece, or even Vanuatu, although you don’t have to get as exotic as that. A 110 acre island in Northern Minnesota is available for under a million. You can go looking for your own here. Maggie has chosen this one, which must be the most expensive one I’ve ever seen. “Price available by request,” it says, on a site that puts six million dollar price tags up without batting an eye.

I always feel a little bit guilty when I look at private islands. It’s because I recognize my instinct to get one is not only a decadent, extravagant act, but also is an insular one that separates me from my fellow mass of humanity. On the other hand, it is not inconsistent with my nature to have essential doubts about the character of my fellow human beings (my mom says it isn’t paranoia if they really are out to get you). I will just consider my hunt for private islands to be an escapist exercise, not harmful to anyone and pretty fun to boot.

(Meta-section; I got onto the island kick today by finding this article about a storm that hit Tristan de Cunha island two weeks ago. No one outside the island knew about it until a few days ago because all communication was cut off. I told Maggie, who found a link to the island and thought it looked neat. )

Trash!

LAPI (HBII newcomers; that’s a Link Appealing to the Prurient Interest): Ernie’s House of WhoopAss, which is an old school E/N site full of gross and dirty pictures. I cannot help but be strangely fascinated by such sites. I tried to think of redeeming qualities of it to recommend, but no, it is what it is. Thus is the web.

My old friend Alana has surfaced in South Carolina. The Carolinas are fascinating states. They are so pretty, and the food is great, the people are nice, and the culture is very weird. The SC legislature has gotten itself in a bit of a stink by an anonymous memo, apparently written by a Republican congressman, which advised female pages to ignore a previous dress code directive and generally told them to expect some sexual harassment. Alana, please explain your elected officials. Including that Helms guy, too.