There are a couple of questions you can ask yourself, to help lift the fog, prior to talking to a web developer.

1. Forget about the Internet; what does your business DO?

All the Internet is doing for businesses is making services that once had to be done over the telephone or in person possible through a computer. So, how do you operate, Internet aside? Do you sell something? Do you host events? Do you publish a magazine, offer a trade, teach people, build things?

The majority of manual procedures in any business can be converted to some sort of online version. But it’s not your job, as a business owner wanting a website, to know what those online versions are. All you need to tell your web developer is what your business does. It’s the web developer’s job to translate it into an accessible online format.

2. What are your competitors doing online?

Google search your industry. You’ll know who your biggest competitors are. Look at their websites, what they offer customers through the Internet, and ask yourself if your business would benefit from a similar presence.

3. Is your customer base online?

This is rather important. If your customers are for the most part, pensioners, for example, a website may not be the best way to spend your advertising money right now. But if your business caters to all age groups – then the chances of customers wanting to find you online is high.

Yes, I need a website.

If you have determined that yes, you need a website, then you need to talk to a web developer about exactly what sort of presence you need online; be it simply a Facebook page to communicate with your customers on Facebook, an entire conversion of your business to its online equivalent, or a single page that advertises what your company is and where you’re based. Check out my Modules page for an idea of the sort of packages Equivalent Exchange can tailor to your needs, or send in a quote request for a discussion.

But if it still feels like you’re wading through murky fog and none of it makes sense while you’re thinking it over, just remember; it is not your job, as the client, to figure out what exactly your website does or presents to the online world. Your web developer should be demystifying websites for you. It is the responsibility of a web developer to take the information you give them about your day-to-day business, combine it with what you actually need out of an online presence, explain to you what they’re doing so you’re happy with it, teach you how to use it, and translate it all into a working online solution.

A lone alien looking down on Earth and everything going on on it might ask, ‘Why do I want to interact with you? Why do I need to?’

He doesn’t need to. The alien can choose not to interact with Earth, stay on his planet, and lead a rich and fulfilling life. But what if he wants to talk to them? What if he wants their attention? Then he has to spend some time learning their language and customs.

Well. At least enough to be able to play charades.

You don’t have to build an online presence unless you want to. And to be honest, you have to want to in order to be successful at it. Approach it as an alien being discovering a new planet, as a traveler visiting a new country, rather than a person approaching a new piece of technology. The web is bigger than the pieces of technology we communicate with it via. It is a planet of it’s own.

The web is not new, and it never stands still long enough for anyone to know exactly how it works, all the time. As a frequent user, I now enjoy not knowing what I’m doing. I make jokes about it all the time (see dog image!). It means I’m minimising my chances of being perceived as an arrogant bastard who thinks she knows it all. I’m always learning something, as much as I moan about it having to sometimes.

Always traveling somewhere new.

‘No idea dog’ is printed out and blu-tacked above my desk at work.

You are allowed to have no idea what you’re doing. If you ask for help, and you do it politely, people will help you. The Internet, despite the wrap it gets from other mediums, and despite the trolls that are out there (but really, is anywhere free of trolls?), is generally a friendly place.

Ask twitter a question, it will almost always answer.

So that’s the great truth of the Internet, as I see it. I’m not an expert on it – very few people are – I just know what it means to me, and how much joy I get out of using it. We don’t know what we’re doing and we like it that way because it gives us opportunity to discover and evolve.

Still want to join in? Or, still not sure why you should bother?

You bother if you want to communicate. To learn. It’s not so much about marketing yourself as it is listening to others and responding. The net gives you free feedback, if you ask it a question. It enables you to connect with people all over the world.

Most of it is 100% free to use.

Yes, but where to start?!

1/ Fill out some forms.

• get a reliable email address. One that wasn’t given to you by the company you buy your Internet connection through, as these will disappear if (when) you change Internet providers. Your email address is your lifeline. When all other sites and communities close, people will email you. I recommend gmail. You can read about signing up, and sign up, here.
• get twitter and facebook. Even if you don’t end up using them to any great extent. Just get your username before someone else does. It can sit there for the rest of time, untouched, but it will be yours, just in case you decide you do want to use it in the future.
• let people know how to find you. Tell your friends, your fans (if you can), add your email, twitter handle and Facebook profile to your business card. Give people the option of talking to you this way.

 2/ Give as much as you hope to receive.

• search for other people in your industry on twitter and Facebook. When you find them, like, friend or follow them. Chances are high they will like, friend or follow you back. It’s like a big game of pass it on.
• follow the big wigs in your industry on twitter. For authors, for example, this might mean to follow Penguin, Random, Bloomsbury, etc. Follow them and see what and how they post. Learn from them. They pay quite a lot of money to hire marketing people to use these services on their behalf. If you can learn how they interact with it, you can emulate it yourself – or, they may give you new, better ideas on how to use the service yourself.
• follow fansites and communities who support what you’re passionate about. Watch and learn how they interact with social media.

3/ Don’t be afraid to comment.

Anyone who says anything online wants to be heard. A comment tells a post writer that that another person has listened to them. People like people who listen, who give value to their opinion.

You will be surprised how comments will result in return comments, which in turn, gets people interested in you and leads to word of mouth promotion.

4/ Have some fun with it.

We are human (yeah, ignore my alien analogy from earlier for this bit ;P ) and we have emotions. We are allowed to be silly, or funny, or sad, or angry. Be professional (so, no drunken or career-tarnishing rants), but above all, let people see that you are human.

Be knowledgable and be yourself. To be an expert in your field, listen to other experts, exchange with them, and post your own expert advice. Link to things you believe in, articles you agree with, photos you love. Have fun. You’re human, you’re allowed to have a laugh, and it humanises you to your followers.

But I don’t know how to do any of that!

Google it. Youtube search it. Ask twitter. Ask facebook, family and friends. Phone your internet-loving niece or nephew. Have an 11-year-old show you.

Ask and you will receive. Ignore and you won’t, and nobody will know about all the things you have to offer. They won’t mourn your absence because they weren’t able to access you to begin with.

Do not expect to be an overnight success. You will need to work at it and build your presence. Build trust. Just like with any relationship.

Above all, remember – you are allowed to have no idea what you are doing.

Not sure what this is? You should probably view the first story in the series, So Lucky, 2011 (aka, my 2011 non-birthday present from Fifi).

Min’s non-birthday present 2012

Inspired by Russia – Buranovskiye Babushki – Party For Everybody

Bura: she of the imposing height and winsome smile.

Nov: she of the diminutive stature and blue headscarf.

Ski: she of the faraway gaze and glittering coin-sash.

Ye: she of the stern brows and warbling alto.

Babu: she of the unmoving mouth and expression that said ‘What am I doing on this stage? Who are these people?’

Shki: she of the wizened features and mad dancing skillz.

Together, they were Buranovskiye Babushki. And they were on a mission.

*

Their orders had been clear: take down Eurovision.

The Organisation was a subtle machine; it worked away beneath the surface of everyday life, pulling strings to an extent not even its most senior members fully comprehended. It had agents installed in every corner of the world, changing that world through nudges and murmurs and the occasional shove.

Who controlled the British crown? Who kept the metric system down? It did. Who kept Atlantis off the maps? Who kept the martians under wraps? It did. Who held back the electric car? Who made Steve Gutenberg a star? It did. Who robbed cavefish of their sight? Who rigged every Oscar night? It did. It did. The Organisation was a powerful beast.

…Oh, er, and a subtle machine. Yes. So mighty that it mixed metaphors, recklessly and unrepentantly.

Buranovskiye Babushki was one of The Organisation’s deadlier weapons and better-kept secrets, a sleeper cell kept in reserve for the direst of missions. Wars, plagues, and famines were kept for The Organisation’s small fry—rookies who needed a little practice under their belts before they could be trusted with Truly Evil Matters (rigging queues at conventions, manufacturing Go Cards, compiling Fox’s annual list of shows to cancel, fostering relations with The Evil League of Ibis, and so forth).

Bura was the leader of Buranovskiye Babushki. She lived in the high altitudes of Tzictzactzoe Mountains, a quiet existence: she spent her days with one eye on grandchildren frolicking among the goats and the other eye on the foreign stockmarkets she absentmindedly manipulated through the Stocks app on her phone. The Organisation was generally content to let her pursue evil deeds at her leisure, so she always knew great changes were afoot when they called on her.

In olden times, The Organisation had invoked her assistance through a complicated system of encrypted messages borne on the talons of trained eagles—eagles with the sad gold of wisdom gleaming in their ancient eyes. These days, it sent texts. So it was that a telltale chime rang out one day as Bura perched on a peak, undermining Facebook shares. She peered at the text, and knew that destiny had come calling once again.

Hey Bura, hows it goin? Eurovision 2 influential, need u 2 take it down. Lol kthx.

Bura pondered this awhile, peering across the mighty mountains of Tzictzactzoe. Then she texted back.

Lol whut? More info plz.

Bura had barely returned to the world of financial crime before her mission brief came through; clearly this was of high priority.

Eurovisen inspirin lots of ppl, got foreign influence, u no, the usual. Possible world dom? Ibii gettin twitchy. H8ers gonna h8, i no, but has 2 go. BB can infiltrate as singin group, bring it down from inside. U on it?

Bura stared at this, appalled.

Wtf, Org. U no none of us can sing, rite?

The reply spoke volumes.

Duh, Bura, it’s Eurovision. No1 will notice.

Even for an evil organisation controlling civilisation from the shadows, this seemed a rather heartless assessment. Bura, for one, had been very fond of Moldova’s deep and nuanced performance the previous year. But that was the downside of evil, she supposed: it made you too cool to appreciate kitsch. She sighed.

Yeah, ok. Explosions fine?

Thanks, Bura!! <3 Yeah, go nuts. No fatalities, tho. Ibii r talking bout bloodless takeover these days. (Rofl as if!) Will totes treat u 2 frogurt at next ECoE.¹

Her duty was clear. It was time to assemble Buranovskiye Babushki.

*

Bura had planned many a mission in her time. She had cased joints and acquired targets; she had surveyed and spied; she had broken and entered. But never had she encountered any task so frustrating, so flummoxing, so inclined to self-destruct, as choreographing the three-minute performance of a six-person group.

‘For the last time, Babu, the words are “Ashizucklxjsfkzj fkzsfdjnzfjk fzjaskszu szzytzaoouoooo”! How hard is that? And Ski, if I have to tell you one more time to shuffle behind Nov once the chorus starts—!’

A chime interrupted Bura’s hair-clutching tirade. Distractedly she pulled out her phone. Was it already time to instigate the fall of toilet paper? She could have sworn that wasn’t until Tuesday.

Hey Bura, act comin along ok? Heard the choreo’s tricky lol!

She scowled at the screen.

F u, Org. That better b damn good frogurt.

*

The applause swelled, a pattering crescendo on which rose the first notes of their siren song. Bura gathered her comrades to her, clutching at their red-garbed arms with a commanding force that belied the apparent sweetness of the gesture. ‘Remember your cues,’ she hissed at them, and they began to sing.

*

Oh, how the people loved them. ‘Look at the dancing Russian grannies!’ they cried, squealing into their hands as the Eurovision frenzy lifted their spirits into a fervour. ‘How sweet! They must have dreamed their whole lives of making it to this moment. Oh, who cares if they aren’t the most brilliant singers? Just look at them: they’re so happy to be up there.’

People, Bura reflected, were sentimental fools.

She hadn’t expected such warmth from the crowd; none of them had. Ye threw her a bewildered look as they shuffled past one another, and broke off warbling to hiss, ‘The hell, Bura? Are they cheering us?’

‘There are like two hundred people out there waving their lighters and phones,’ muttered Shki, hopping by. ‘What. The. Fuck.’

‘I think a girl just fainted, weeping for joy,’ Nov said out of the corner of her mouth, waving her frail arms with disarming ² enthusiasm.

Bura shared their bemusement, but had little attention to spare for the fact that she was apparently a musical sensation. The signal was coming up, and too much depended on the next section of their song.

And thus…

‘BOOM BOOM!’ sang Buranovskiye Babushki, and waited.

Nothing.

They bobbed in places, absently singing ‘PARTY FOR EVERYBODY’ as they exchanged anxious glances. That had been the signal, hadn’t it? The third ‘BOOM BOOM’? The flares planted at key access points throughout the building should have gone off, startling the crowd into a stampede that would trample the fancy décor of the Eurovision stadium and therefore ruin Eurovision, which was nothing without its sparkliness. But…no boom boom appeared to be forthcoming.

Buranovskiye Babushki finished their song amid a cacophony of cheers, and clutched each other in a group hug that made at least two more audience members swoon from inspired joy.

‘What the hell?’ hissed Ski. ‘What went wrong? Did—’ she broke off with a gasp. ‘Who is that?’

The six women gazed at the ceiling high above, apparently training grateful gazes on the heavens—but in fact watching a lone figure abseil away among the rafters, clutching flares under his arm.

‘It’s some Guy from the Crowd!’ groaned Nov. ‘Wtf!’

‘I will not let your misguided actions sully the pure and shining spirit of this uniting occasion!’ came a faint yet somehow penetrating voice, floating over the oblivious crowd. ‘Use your gift to help, not to hinder!’ And he was gone.

‘What. The. Fuck,’ observed Shki.

*

Bura was lost in contemplation, wondering whether she was still entitled to that free frogurt, when the judges began to announce the results. Distracted by thoughts of vanilla versus hazelnut, she paid no heed to the tallies until she noticed that her comrades’ jaws were perilously close to the ground.

‘What? What is it?’

‘We…we came second,’ Nov told her with undisguised awe.

‘…Whut.’

‘The judges just announced the winners. We won second place in the final round of Eurovision 2012.’ Shki uttered a bark of hysterical laughter.

Bura gawped, but her razor-sharp mind was already in action. First, it established that hazelnut was definitely the better option. Secondly, it saw an opportunity…

Perhaps there was more than one way to take down Eurovision from the inside. Why ruin a perfectly good influential institution, when you could control it instead?

And, failing that…

‘Ladies,’ drawled Bura, ‘what do you say to a career in the music industry? Apparently we’re not half bad.’

THE END?

P.S. Puppy.

¹ Evil Convention of Evil. An annual event at which The Organisation, The Evil League of Ibii, The Fox Network, and other major players in merciless world domination gather to network, attend mixers, and trade tips. This year, hosted by Queensland Rail! Visit the website at evilconvention.org; for a membership discount, join an underground organisation bent on wreaking havoc. Can’t make it? Then follow the tweets at #evilcon and keep an eye out for the upcoming YouTube channel (convention highlights only) and Tumblr blog.

² EDITOR’S NOTE: ‘Disarming’ arms, geddit? Hur hur hur.

I hesitated to show them to anyone else because of a) all the inside jokes, b) the unreferenced quotes from various shows etc., and c) the possibility that people who didn’t share our sense of humour might find them offensive (I intend them as loving parodies only, of course, but I don’t know if the world at large would get that).

– from the ingenious author of hilarious presents, Fifi

I do believe that other people will enjoy these, though. As long as you bear in mind that this is, as Fifi has said, a loving parody. Consider yourself disclaimer’d!

Min’s non-birthday present 2011

Inspired by: Moldova - Zdob și Zdub – So Lucky

Ten years it had taken them to reach this moment. Ten years of arduous training, of bitter rivalries, of struggling faith, of faltering hopes. Ten years of being told that they would never survive the stringent tests, that such mere mortals as they should never aspire to such glorious heights as this.

Yet they had reached this moment. They were here. They were soldiers, preparing to battle for the honour of their homeland. They were artists, preparing to stun the world with their vision and skill. They were actors, preparing to exercise the subtleties of deep and nuanced performance.

They were Moldova, and they were going to win Eurovision.

*

Bjokar settled the hat on his head. Pinned to his head with eighteen paperclips, two metal clamps, and several ounces of hot glue, it was accursedly uncomfortable. But Grandmother Sxderzuz had sewn it herself—had spent three years weaving the fur from her finest animals and fashioning it into elegant swirls—and he had promised her he would wear it.

Anyway, if Grandmother Sxderzuz made you a hat, you wore it. No questions asked.

He surveyed the other members of the group. His friends, his companions of the heart: brother; cousins; that one guy who’d wandered in from the crowd. (The hell? Couldn’t he have at least worn a hat?) Yes, it was as he’d thought. Bjokar suppressed the tears of pride: his hat was definitely the nicest.

*

The call came. They all tensed. Bjokar found himself clutching his hat for strength, and steadied his nerves. “My brother,” he chided. “My cousins. Guy from the crowd. Let us not be afraid; we have awesome gnome hats.”

[EDITOR’S NOTE: Certain lines of dialogue may have been lost in translation. In situations where phrases did not convert well to English, we have attempted to keep to the spirit rather than the letter.]

“While I lead you, we can do no wrong. While I lead you, we are invincible. Let me lead you, my brother! Cousins! Guy from the crowd!”

Fgojik tossed his head angrily (then staggered as the hat swung too wide and threw him off balance). Typical Bjokar, making it all about himself. The rage—the steady simmering rage that had consumed Fgojik’s heart since he was a child—flared. Bjokar: always the favourite.

Guy From The Crowd placed a steadying hand on Fgojik’s shoulder. “Do not be enraged, my friend. Your brother has an unsettled heart; it makes him say things unthinkingly. Never doubt, though, that he truly cares about you.”

Fgojik threw him a startled look.

The call came again. Onto the stage they bounded, Bjokar in the lead (Of course, thought Fgojik angrily. Of course of course of course…), Guy From The Crowd waving merrily to the masses. They seemed to love him; one girl fainted when he smiled at her. Truly the spirit of Eurovision was in the air.

So lucky. They were so lucky to be here.

*

“SO LUCKY,” bellowed Bjokar. Ahh, how he remembered writing this song. How he had poured his experiences into every word and every note.

“Martini, whiskey on the rocks, live from the top, the party never stops…”

“SO LUCKY.”

“Winner, something something sinner…”

“SO LUCKY.”

“On top, the cream of the crop, you know I love to rock, the fun will never stop…”

“SO LUCKY.”

Truly, this was poetry.

*

The clarinet began its delicate solo. Filuše emerged from the back of the stage, a fairy pure and pale as gossamer, her pointed white hat glittering under the lights. Poetry in motion, she soared across the stage on her unicycle.

Filuše had trained in the mystic arts of the unicycle since she was a child. It was tradition; her mother had been a cyclist, and her mother’s mother. Also, in its circus days, the family dog.

[EDITOR’S NOTE: Incidentally, the dog was a Dalmatian.]

At several months of age, Filuše began to toddle. Her grandmother noticed, and smacked her. “In this family,” she scolded, “we learn to cycle before we learn to walk.” She placed Filuše on the miniature unicycle that had soared Aråmĕithe, the family dog, to fame. Two years later, once the little girl could wheel a passable circle around the garden, she was permitted to place feet to ground and learn the overrated art of walking.

*

Theirs was a relationship of turmoil and heady pain, Bjokar ruefully reflected. He and Filuše had known each other since she was on miniature unicycles and he was in miniature gnome hats—namely, since they were five. They had met on a Tuesday, declared their love on a Thursday (Wednesday had been busy), and since then had suffered twenty years of tumultuous and inconsistent devotion.

“I try to kiss you, but you slip away…”

But then, his had always been a world of troubled relationships. Look at his family. Fgojik, his brother or half-brother or possibly twin sister, depending on whose history of family scandal you listened to. Vånštuk, his youngest cousin, who had torn Filuše away from him twice and given her back three times. Zxozq, his oldest cousin (or half-brother or uncle or neighbour wandered in off the street, depending on who you listened to), who had never forgiven Bjokar for shattering his dreams of clown college (but really, did you see the hats they made them wear at that place?), despised Filuše for breaking his heart (or not breaking his heart or making him the happiest man in the world, depending on who you listened to), and seemed pretty much indifferent to Vånštuk (who was his brother or his half-brother or possibly his twin sister, depending on who you listened to).

[EDITOR’S NOTE: Actually, this part was all to the letter. If it makes you less confused, though, put it down to things lost in translation.]

Indeed, they were a lucky group.

*

“SO LUCKY.”

In a blaze of lights and glory and strategically placed monocles, the song ceased. Bjokar glanced around to see Guy From The Crowd nodding at him with soulful approval. Bjokar obligingly Looked Soulful back. The monocle helped.

*

Vånštuk polished his trumpet. “I don’t know, Bjokar,” he sighed. “Do you think it will live up to Grandmother Sxderzuz’s expectations? She threatened to beat me with a fish again if it didn’t.”

Guy From The Crowd clasped Vånštuk’s hands in a masculine gesture of transcendently sincere affection. “My friend—no, my brother,” he said, “let us not worry about other people right now. Let us simply bask in the gratifying and yet selfless joy of having worked to the best of our ability, of having succeeded in our goal. If we must think of others, let us think of how happy we have made them with our performance the world over.”

He dropped Vånštuk’s hands, clasped his shoulder in wordless joy, and wandered off to compliment Filuše on her unicycling.

“Who is that Guy?” demanded Vånštuk.

“What Guy?” asked Zxozq distractedly, pulling at his hat. It seemed to be stuck to his head.

“The one over…” Vånštuk trailed off as he turned to find Guy From The Crowd gone. A hush fell among them.

“He just…disappeared,” whispered Vånštuk, awed.

“No, wait—there he is,” observed Fgojik, pointing. They turned to see Guy From The Crowd engaging in a passionate embrace with Filuše.

Bjokar grunted and strode over to break them apart.

Zxozq finally succeeded in separating his hat from his head. Alas, this maneuver also involved separating his hair from his scalp.

*

The scores were tallied, the judgments made. With a searing jolt of disappointment, Bjokar heard the word Azerbaijan: the word defeat.

Zxozq dropped his raggedly bald head into his hands.

“Grandmother Sxderzuz is going to beat me with a fish,” said Vånštuk sadly. “Again.”

Guy From The Crowd stood and spread his hands. “My brothers,” he smiled, gently reproving. “Why are you sad? Think of what we have accomplished tonight. Think of what we will accomplish from here, now that we have reached this point. Nothing tonight was done in vain.”

Their spirits lifted. Zxozq raised his head, smiled, and resumed gluing his hair back on. Vånštuk reflected that he quite liked fish really. Maybe it would even be a cod! Bjokar, absentmindedly tugging Filuše away from Guy From The Crowd again, contemplated the future. The man was right, after all! What was to stop them from trying again, succeeding again?

They were soldiers, preparing to battle for the honour of their homeland. They were artists, preparing to stun the world with their vision and skill. They were actors, preparing to exercise the subtleties of deep and nuanced performance.

They were Moldova, and they were going to win Eurovision.

…Next year.

THE END?

P.S. Puppy.

• The final movie in the Cornetto Trilogy (Simon Pegg/Edgar Wright films), ‘The Worlds End’, kicks off in September!
• Another reason to love R2D2 (if we needed one): he makes coffee! At least for this guy.
• An Amazing Skyrim Modder makes fabulous An Idiot in Skyrim mod…which promptly gets pulled down by lawyers. But you can see a video of the mod here.
• Winner of best mum ever makes Yoda snack for child
• A marvelous flickr user creates an album of Lego on Hoth
• A cat called Kaylee has a TARDIS fort. This cat wins the internet, we can all go home now.
• Astronomy picture of the day reminds everyone of Skyrim
• Tasty chocolate candle will melt over food. Genius!
• Elder Scrolls online was announced. As I said on facebook; get to work on that cloning machine, so I can find time to play this.
• A couple of excellent Joss Whedon interviews and his excellent post on Whedonesque, post box-office records being smashed by his Avengers.
• Lego Back to the Future set created by fan; potentially being made (if it gets enough votes)
• A website I developed (Dovetail) wins an interactive media award for 2012!
• Another major project I dev’d at work goes live; Diabetes Queensland
• Penny Arcade does an excellent job depicting George Lucas’ next take on the Star Wars saga
• Actual Sonic Screwdriver invented by Dundee University
• Nathan Fillion and Robert Downey Jr do the Castle credits
• Guy wears a TARDIS suit
• Maru the ruler of the internet is interviewed
• Ghibli releases the trailer for a computer game they’re developing: Ni No Kuni: Wrath Of The White Witch
• The Oatmeal explains how to get more likes on Facebook
• A working super nintendo coffee table turns up on etsy…
• …as does this retro mosaic coffee table, on folksy
• What would happen if Windows made their own version of (Google’s) project glass
• A Gameboy is steampunked
• A new Featurette for Brave is released
• Chandler Bing dances on things
• Behold the Smauglock: Half Smaug the dragon, half Benedict Cumberbatch
• Tearing Open the Night Sky art installation
• Amazingly epic Doctor Who the RPG from College Humor
• Triforce lamp lands on etsy
• Texts from dog turns up on tumblr!
• Felicia Day tries blacksmithing in The Flog: Blacksmithing
• Gandalf longboards down a road. More interesting than I make it sound.
• Google launches Maps in 8-bit XD
• Green Monkey Dreams appears on Allen and Unwin website! Huzzuh!
• Beautiful Doctor Who / TARDIS inspired ring is created
• 20 of the Most Beautiful Bookstores in the World make me want to travel again…

• Paris tries out virtual boarding attendants in their airport
• Massive iPhone case looks like an ear, freaks out everybody
• An interview with Benjamin Harff, who lovingly created a beautifully illustrated copy of (Tolkien’s) The Silmarillion
• A device called the Wacom Inkling arrives, transfers anything you draw on paper to your computer
• People take um, scans of cats in Can Scan
• Are you Norse? Handy flowchart of what to do in a crisis
• Space debris report convinces me that a time where the anime Planetes is reality is closer
• Amazingly epic treehouses
• Penguin presents a wonderful insight into the author Isobelle Carmody’s life in Penguin Presents: Isobelle Carmody
• The India-Pakistan border as seen from the International Space Station (making me somewhat sad; we shouldn’t be able to see borders from space)
• Gorgeous, natural and unedited photo of Saturn in eclipse
• It’s the Moon, but not as we know it: The Moon’s North Pole
• Bored? Why not turn your propane tank into a gigantic Lego head
• Cutest turtle you’ve ever seen, trying to eat a strawberry as big as it
• Cat’s gain ground with No Dogs!
• Legend of Zelda main theme played on the Marimba
• Common alcohols and cocktails put under the microscope produce beautiful images
• And a WTF moment: Matthew Perry and Jennifer Aniston present Windows 95. Ranks up there on the ‘should-be-funny-but-argh-wtf’ level nearly with the Star Wars Holiday special.

A couple of links closer to home (so, web-designy):

• Who’s up for a quick round of Client Bingo?
• Presenting the Killer Jellyfish of Graphic design favours
• And lastly a beautifully designed graph explaining how Developers, Designers and Project managers view one another.

• All 11 Doctors, as cats, at Doctor Mew
• You can buy River Song’s spoilery TARDIS journal
• Watch 10th Doctor regenerate into 11th Doctor – on Facebook
• A genius sings the Doctor Who theme song, a capella (to which Steven Moffat tweeted, ‘this made my day’)
• Sick of all those naff  ”my family” car stickers? Buy the Dalek (+ K9) set instead
• One of the Kings of Geekdom, Grant Imahara, cosplays the 10th Doctor
• The green button was too mainstram, for Hipster Amy Pond
• The ponies enter nightmare mode with My Little Cyberpony and My Little Ood
• And lastly the Muppets are drawn as characters out of Doctor Who.
• Speaking of Muppets, OK GO does an amazing cover with them of the Muppets Theme Song
• Still on the topic of Muppets, my work is loving the Seasame Street Martians at the moment – and an epic pair of guys cosplayed the Seasame Street Martians at the recent Dragon Con
• It wouldn’t be a link session for me without some creative Firefly-inspired fandom; this time it’s Knitted Firefly characters
• I lol’d – Britney Spears: The Last Airbender
• And lastly, relating to none of the other links but just an interesting bit of TV, here’s the Gruen Transfer’s Pitch session (where they challenge agencies to sell the unsellable) with the sell being to ban all religion in Australia.

Once the news was out the responses weren’t that varied, as you can imagine, with the general response being disdain:

• Star Wars HDTV vs Blu-ray screencap #1
• A series of Star Wars original VS Blu-Ray pics
• And my personal favourite – press in dire situations (the Noooooooooooooo! button): www.nooooooooooooooo.com

The general consensus being to do what many a Star Wars fan has done for the past 15 years; forget the new edits exist and carry on with business.

• kalexanderson’s GORGEOUS Flickr photo album, The Daily Stormtrooper
• Luke, we’re gonna have company!
• And hows about a Steampunk Darth Vader helmet?

Now that my obligatory Star Wars links are out of the way, here’s some other cool stuff found around the interwebs.

• Nike’s released Marty McFly’s shoe from Back to the Future II  (and all proceeds go to support The Michael J Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research) at Back 4 The Future
• Rainbow Dash improves The Matrix: Reloaded
• A scene from Jurassic Park is shot amusingly with Toy Dinosaurs
• The Duck Tape brand use some wicked animation to recreate a Tron lightcycle race (plus, Tron Guy) for a new duct tape campaign.
• The Terminator (T-800 to be precise) joins Twitter and starts hunting down Sarah Connor.
• Daft Punk has a couple of cross-overs, one with Lord of the Rings in Rule it, find it, bring it, bind it, and a second with a Daft SteamPunk Professor X Cosplay
• Lastly this seems an appropriate spot to put this little illustrated gem: A guilde to things that always happen in movies, but not in real life

• Second-tier Star Wars characters made out of clay
• It’s Tron Vader!
• Mrs Weasley is now making R2D2 jumpers by request
• Watch out, Titan! Vader’s onto you (aka, Tethys looks like the Death Star)
• Lego, remote controlled, R2D2? This link ticked all the boxes.
• Star Wars Xbox360 – want – NEED
• Guy builds massive R2D2
• How could you say no to an adorable Star Wars plushie?
• NCOTB have Fixed Ur Lightsabre
• Lastly, the Do’s and Dont’s of Dating Mark Hamill. Isn’t he a dreamboat? >.>

• Infographic explaining how people in science see each other (it’s more how people at any university see each other).
• Your idea of Happiness is Wrong, science explains.
• Two days after agreeing on a final draft of a project… What can I say? Welcome to my world. C/o my current favourite, clientsfromhell.net.
• xkcd explains Password Strength and how it works (or doesn’t)
• Exam question win (/fail?): the answer is, Nacho…
• Delicious Physics-themed cupcakes
• Gorgeous time-lapse photos of Yurikamome High-speed Trains
• WTB: Emergency Reboot Button
• Mad About Something on the Internet? What’s your Dick-rating?
• One giant leap for Legokind: Dumbledor, young Sherlock Holmes and a Volleyball coach Lego figures are going to Jupiter
• Who doesn’t want a Steampunk Minion Army?
• Ad to encourage women to get into computing…from the 60′s. “It’s just like planning a dinner!”
• This guy WINS at Web Design (or at least, wins at advertising that he’s a web designer).