Author: Wil

When I got home from What’s My Line? Live On Stage last night, I tossed my bag onto the couch (it’s a bag, okay? From ApacheCon, and I keep my books and appointment calendar and some gum and kleenex and stuff in it . . . but it’s not a purse. Let’s be clear about that. Not. A. Purse.) Uh, I tossed my not-a-purse onto the couch and went into my office to check my e-mail and scan the news headlines.
I was a little surprised when I sat down and saw that Google News, which is my homepage, was displaying a 502 error. I hit F5, and the page came back up . . . and revealed that the HiveMind at Google has bestowed upon us the ability to customize Google News.
Holy crap, man! It’s very cool. I now have a “Wil Wheaton” section, a “Fark” section, and a “Monkey Attack” section, to go along with all the other default sections. I also got rid of the “Business” section, which I never read anyway. Control freaks of the world rejoice!
Whenever something comes along that makes the Internets more useful, I sing a little song and jump around a little bit.
Good jorb, Googleoids.

Maybe it’s because I grew up in a concept-album-o-centric house. Maybe it’s because I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know all the words to Abbey Road and Dark Side of the Moon. Maybe it’s because I’ve always hated pop music with the white-hot intensity of a billion supernovas. Maybe it’s the beer talking, Marge, but you’ve got a butt that won’t quit. Maybe it’s because my Id beat the everliving shit out of my Superego years ago . . . but music has never been light, disposable, background noise to me. Music has been as much a part of my life as oxygen and water, and I’m über passionate about what I like and don’t like.
I know that I’m late to the party on this by about eight years, but about two weeks ago I discovered a band I really like: Wilco.
Oh my god. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.
The last album to work its way deep into the nanofibers of my being like YHF was OK Computer. I’ve heard the name “Wilco” all over the place, especially because I’m such a nerd for The Conet Project, but I can’t believe I hadn’t actually heard this record until now.
I’ve been so totally blown away by YHF that yesterday, I picked up two more Wilco discs: being there, and a ghost is born.
Oh my god. Being There.
Oh my god. A Ghost is Born.
If my Wilco Smart Playlist was an audio tape, I would have burned it out in the last 24 hours. If it was a pair of shoes, the heels would be worn right through. If it was a million dollars, I would have used it to buy you a fur coat (but not a real fur coat, because that’s cruel.)
If you like some of the other books and movies and crap that I like, and you haven’t heard it yet, get Yankee Hotel Foxtrot right now. It’s not filled with jaunty little hooks that you can sing to yourself while you wait for the train — it’s much better, and much more rewarding, than that.

My CSI airs tomorrow night, and E! Online’s Guilty Pleasures said some nice things about it today. There’s no perma-link option that I can find, so here’s the blurb:

CSI: The Next Generation
It’s not like we sit around reading blogs while we’re supposed to working–we totally don’t–but sometimes our work leads us to read blogs. (Just trust us, okay?) Anyway, fans of CSI, blogs and Star Trek: The Next Generation will find no greater confluence of goodness than on this week’s episode of the forensic crime-stopper series CSI (Thursday, 10 p.m.), starring Wil Wheaton, onetime Ensign Wesley Crusher and current blogger, as a homeless man who, at least according to Wheaton’s blog, has bad hair and rage issues. Certainly, more drama will ensue, and we can’t wait to watch and then read about it on Wheaton’s site. After work, you know.

After my episode airs, I’ll be able to write in a lot more detail about the specifics of filming it, and comment on how the final cut reflects and differs from what we shot.
Man, it’s only one day away! I can’t believe it’s already here.

I really like the way my backyard looks right now. I don’t want to be prideful about my gardening efforts, but damn! Anne and I have worked hard recently to landscape the damn thing, and it just looks great.
I’ve been writing pretty much non-stop since I got out of bed today. When I get stuck, or just need a break, I look out the window and stare into the yard, so my conscious mind can take a walk and let my creative mind do its thing. My lawn, which through a combination of mowing, feeding, and 38 inches of rain in the last several weeks is lush, thick, and a beautiful greenish blue. Ferris and Riley can usually be found chasing each other across it, though right now they’re both sleeping under my desk. Ferris has her head on my foot and whenever I try to move it, she grunts at me and wags her tail. Riley is blisfully unaware of anything, sprawled out asleep on her back like a cat. My orange tree, which I agressively pruned a back in January, is covered with blossoms, and a light breeze keeps pushing their scent through my open window. Two hummingbirds just buzzed past. Cool.
I have several bird feeders that hang all over the place. Most of them have a basic seed mixture (yeah! 3 bucks at the pet store for 20 pounds!) but one of them is this sock filled with some spiffy stuff called Nyjer seed that is like crack for finches. That sock is so covered with birds I can’t even see it! All of my other feeders are also heavily populated with sparrows as well, and it seriously sounds like I’m renting office space in an aviary.
There’s some tree-trimming going on in my neighborhood, so the not-entirely-unpleasant drone of distant chainsaws underscores the bird’s singing. For some reason, the sound of yard work always makes me feel secure, and brings to mind happy childhood sense memories that I can’t see, but feel nevertheless.
Anyway, I’m putting this all down right now because someday I’ll read through my archives, see this, and remember exactly what this moment felt like.

Behold, the power of the WWdN Posse! (WARNING: Link contains blatant and crass commercialism) As of this writing, Wesley Crusher is currently not the most annoying character on Star Trek! \m/
Thanks for voting, and thanks to everyone who commented here and sent trackbacks.
I get asked a lot if I read comments and trackback. Yes, I always read them both, and I love it that Trackbacks often lead me to discover interesting and useful stuff on The Internets that I may have missed on my own.
For example, following a trackback to I Like Jason, I learned that Battlestar Galactica‘s executive producer (and former DS9 head writer) Ron Moore is providing commentaries on current episodes, in almost real-time! Oh my god, this is, without a doubt, the absolute best use of podcasting to date. As Jason says, “[I]t’s like the commentary feature on a DVD, except you [don’t have] to wait a couple of years for the actual DVD to come out; you load the commentary file to your iPod, hit play when the phrase “The Cylons Were Created By Man” appears on-screen, then pause it whenever a commercial break comes on. And even better, the whole thing’s hooked up to an RSS feed, so that commentaries can be automatically delivered to an MP3 player a few hours before the episode airs.”
If that’s not a brilliant use of tehcnology, and embracing your fans, I don’t know what is. And if that’s not enough, his blog (which I *so* wish was titled “Battlestar GalactiBlog”) does full feeds. SUBSCRIB’D!
I didn’t know Ron very well when I worked on TNG, but he wrote some of the best episodes we ever did, including All Good Things . . ., Yesterday’s Enterprise, and an episode that’s sort of close to my heart called Journey’s End. I haven’t had a chance to watch Battlestar Galactica, yet (though it comes highly reccommended from several friends) but I can tell you this much: Star Trek: The Next Generation was a better show because Ron Moore wrote for us, and I can’t wait to hear him talk about Battlestar Galactica.
I’m inspired, and as soon as I have some time (read: in 2023) I’ll do some commentaries on some of my acting work.
An interesting fact about this entry: It contains the greatest ratio of <i> tags to actual words in WWdN history.