The pursuit of perfection

I've almost finished my current job, which was supervising 1st year archaeology undergrads on a university training excavation here in York. The little tikes have just about learned how not to smash their toes with a mattock, so I consider my work here done. Tomorrow I fly with Moogdroog to Germany to give a speech about German history in German to an audience of Germans.

Speaking of Germany and the inevitable connotations of Aryan supermen that come with it, I see that Britain's Got Talent (aka Britain's Got Too Much Time On Its Hands) has been won this year by the Children of the Corn. Either that or they are the product of some secret Nazi experiment to grow a race of blond super-athletes in underground vats which has at last come to fruition.

Nole sent me an email informing me that some über-nerds had created a replica of Babylon 5 on Second Life. I moseyed on down to have a look, but not before giving my avatar a thorough facelift. (Or rather several simultaneous facelifts in different directions.)

The result is this malformed dwarf bearing an odd resemblance to Sylvester Stallone who scurries around the Second Life universe dressed in pink and lime green lycra, refusing to talk to anyone, attracting piteous glances from his physically perfect fellow-citizens.