And the Strangest Things Seem Suddenly Routine

In the past I've been a little irrationally annoyed with Leap Day, because grr argh meaningless artifical construct of time. This time around I'm inclined to see it as a little bit magical, a day that doesn't really exist, time hidden from the eyes of the gods. When I said this on Twitter this morning, a friend pointed out that saying that sounded like a great way to get Coyote to mess with me. She's got a point, but I figure with Rabbit tattooed on my back, I've already got the attention of the tricksters. And on the eve of my birthday, I've got a feeling this is going to be the year of poking at gods and other sacred things with sticks.

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Leap Day Ephemera, Beautiful Things Edition:

• A beautiful rant about why photography in all forms is amazing and the photography snobs bemoaning the dying of their elite art can go suck it.
  
• The human form in bike chains: Bike chain sculptures more detailed and beautiful than I could have imagined possible

Body and Mind Edition:

• Speaking of artificial constructs of time: The Myth of the 8-hour Sleep
  
• An interesting read on the real social cost of tighter restrictions on pseudoephedrine
  
• ...Of course, you could always just synsthesize your own [PDF] from easier-to-acquire methylamphetamine
  
• Teller (my fantasty boyfriend's partner) reveals his secrets

Silly Stuff Edition:

• I would bet you that Hey Michel Foucault is run by pielology, but it would be a futile bet because you'd never be able to convince me I'd lost
  
• Drunk Eliza