If you're "new" to compact fluorescents, then whatever you do, DON'T replace all your standard light bulbs at once. That's a recipe for discovering that you "don't like" fluoros, and backsliding to wasteful old incandescents.

Rather, make a plan, and replace your old bulbs slowly, over a month or so. Say your house has 10 rooms (3 bed, 2 bath, kit, din, lng, garage, hallway). If you think about it, that's actually 10 different "kinds" of light that you need, reflected by the fact that, in all probability, you have already installed a variety of light fittings putting out a variety of watts, in all those places. From the naked bulb in the garage, to the 6 overbench downs in the kitchen.

So you need to find the right compact fluoros to replace your current lighting, WITHOUT losing the quality of light you've spent at least some effort to build.

So switch a couple of rooms to fluoros, using a few different "kinds". Do they work? No? Switch them around.

Find what works, and then do the rest of the house. Seek not just replacement, but actually IMPROVE the quality of light in each room before going on to the next.

That way, your transition will be gradual, and you'll actually enjoy the quality of light in your home, rather than just annoying yourself and then backsliding to incandescents, like so many have done.

C'mon, you can admit it to me, there's no one else here... you expected "the Europeans" to be fascinated by your American-ness, and falling over themselves to be your "friend", didn't you?!

And so now you feel a little bit foolish about that expectation. It burns you every time you go outside and are roundly ignored -- exactly as you would be in any city in the US of A.

And so you don't want to feel that uncomfortable feeling, and so you hide yourself away, feeling -- unreasonably now that you know it was a silly expectation -- judged and found "boring" by your host culture.

Know what? The dirty little secret is that you ARE boring. Exactly as boring as you were at home. Except at home, miracle of miracles, you had people who actually liked you!

Why did they like you? Because you had shared experiences, and a shared culture to filter those experiences with. It's as simple as that. This is the key to everything.

The single and only way to have people "like you" -- and to start to have the kind of fun you wanted when you signed up for this -- is to do all the painfully hard work of having shared experiences with people in this new culture.

There's no shortcut. Simply "being American" is, as ever, not enough. It's OK that you thought it was. It's a rookie mistake, but a common one. People make that mistake in _both_ directions...

Unfunny was that excellent, serious, revealing interview.

Funny -- the laugh until you weep kind -- is watching the comments section explode with hatred because George ain't buying whatever it is the comment writers are selling, whether that's holding your nose and voting, or indeed sacrificing your principles and participating in any way, no matter what the cost.

That kind of irony is so rich it's almost physically painful...

We must learn (and teach our children) to tolerate the unpleasantness of uncertainty. Science has given us the language and tools of probabilities. That is enough. We do not need and cannot afford the catastrophes born out of a belief in certainty.

Without a shred of sarcasm, all I can say to that is: Amen!

I welcome Patrick's call for airlines to take a long hard new-century look at the amount of cruft that is distributed on flights with a view to seriously reducing it.

For years I've been rejecting the pointless "menus" that long-haul airlines hand out which tell you you're getting -- wait for it -- chicken or beef. It's a symbolic gesture, I know; I'm not expecting a medal!

But the point is that stuff like that -- insta-trash -- adds nothing to passenger comfort and goes straight into the waste bin (probably food contaminated so it can't even be recycled) at the end of the flight.

Higher-quality less beats wasteful more every time -- and twice in economy class.

White House spokesman Tony Fratto, in response to Stiglitz's book, calls him a coward, and says:

"One can't even begin to put a price tag on the cost to this nation of the attacks of 9/11."

Was he alone in the room when he said this? Was there not one journalist with the balls to ask the obvious follow-up question? Something like this, perhaps:

You make pretty free questioning Mr. Stiglitz's courage, Tony, so it seems only fair that I question your honesty. When will the Whitehouse, and lying toadies like yourself, stop saying "9/11" in response to questions about Iraq? As everyone knows, those things have nothing to do with one another. So how about it, Tony? You say Stiglitz is a coward -- but in the same sentence don't you prove yourself a liar?