The mailbag has contained a few requests from new arrivals in the disability blogosphere (bleh, that word still feels clumsy) to promote their sites. Here they are, in no particular order:

• It’s not really a blog, but Disapedia features articles and Wikipedia-ish entries on topics of general interest to the disability community.
• Matt Schneider blogs about things both geek and gimp over at mattschneider.com.
• At Pitt Rehab, Greg blogs about Nala, his service dog, and life in Pennsylvania.

I’m always happy to post links to new and interesting disability-themed sites, so don’t hesitate to e-mail them to me. A link from The 19th Floor is sure to increase your traffic by a factor of…well…okay, not much. But if you guys keep at it for a few more years, you too could get a whopping fifty hits a day.

I’m streaming the Live Earth concert; Bloc Party is currently performing at Wimbley Stadium. They’re putting on a good show, but I’m always a little dubious of grand, issue-centered concert events like this. Remember the big Live 8 concert from a couple years back? A lot of people probably don’t probably don’t. And even if they do, I’m not sure most people could tell you what the fuss was all about. In the end, I’m not sure that concert did much to create sustainable awareness around debt relief for developing countries. The kids may show up for a concert to spread the word that Global Warning Is Bad And Someone Really Should Do Something About It, but a lot of them are going to drive home in their Pathfinders to their oversized homes in the suburbs. Concerts are good PR and I’d probably be there myself if I could, but the real solutions to climate change are going to inflict some real pain, especially to everyone’s wallet. So far, I haven’t heard anyone at this concert mention the word “sacrifice” to the audience.

I don’t remember playing with Transformers when I was a kid, but I did watch the cartoon on a fairly regular basis after school. It never struck a powerful chord with me, but it was serviceable entertainment. I would use the same word to describe the movie: serviceable. It has all the testosterone-infused trademarks of a Michael Bay film: eardrum-shattering explosions, impossibly hot women, more military hardware than you’d see at an arms dealers’ swap meet, and a script that defies all logic and common sense. But it’s still fun. After all, it has giant alien robots blowing stuff up. Despite my refined sense of cinematic aesthetics, I’m genetically predisposed to enjoy this movie. It’s not likely something I’ll add to my library, but the spectacle was worth the price of admission.

Someone on my Facebook pointed out that she almost lost her job for reading my blog. I’d like to point out that The 19th Floor and its proprietor are not responsible and shall be held harmless for any deleterious effects of reading this blog, including:

• Loss of employment
• Poor grades
• Alienation of a significant other’s affections
• Obsessive compulsive behavior (such as repeatedly clicking your browser’s refresh button to see if the blog has been updated)
• Intense cognitive dissonance (as a result of this blog totally blowing your mind)

I’m glad we’ve cleared that up. Carry on.

It’s been a while since I’ve posted any hot tornado porn action:

No word on the number of leprechauns injured in this storm.