Thusfar today, I have leered at pictures of Flack in Kevlar on TalkCSI and done my class reading for Monday. God in his Heaven, but Jean-Paul Sartre is a bore. Why must highly intelligent people constantly flout their genius by making an argument fifty pages longer than it needs to be? That being said, his stinging reproach of European and U.S colonialism was fascinating, scathing, and spot-on.

In less egg-headed, more fun news, I contacted the editor of [livejournal.com profile] csi_gazette to pimp the [livejournal.com profile] xmas_in_thelab CSI:NY Holiday Fic Exchange, and she's agreed to include it note about it in the next edition. Yay! I looked into contacting [livejournal.com profile] csi_triads as well, but I couldn't find any contact info, and joining an age-moderated comm solely to pimp my own comm is skeezy.

Hawkes has stepped into my office to tell his story of what went down when Flack blew up. He's so polite, which is very sweet, but he is also frustratingly enigmatic. There is precious little backstory beyond the bio at CBS.com, and I'm flying by the seat of my pants. I fully expect that whatever background I create will be summarily Jossed by canon.

A final pimp for Who'll Stop the Rain? and The Five Stages of Grief-Bargaining.
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