Yendi desert dwelling sand-snake. Its bite is so subtle that few animals (or people) will realize they've been bitten until, a few minutes to an hour later, the victim collapses - represents subtlety and misdirection. (from Dzurlord) Yendi coils and strikes, unseen. (from Jhereg) Pel is a Yendi. One never knows what Pel might say, what he might do, what he might say he has done, or, above all, why he would say or do what he said or did. (from Five Hundred Years After) How many Yendi does it take to sharpen a sword? Three. One to sharpen the sword and one to confuse the issue. (from Yendi)
Obligatory mini-bio: I'm a computer/academia geek living in Watertown (outside of Boston) and working at a research university. I grew up in New York City (1972-1990), and spent the next sixteen years in Atlanta, as both a student and an employee of Emory University. I live with my wife shadesong, as well as our daughter Elayna (my stepdaughter and soon to be adopted daughter), and three cats, Max (our calm and loving chocolate-point Siamese), Jack (a mildly psychotic and incredibly affectionate tuxedo cat), and Tori (the baby of the bunch). I was the horror columnist for a couple of years at Bookslut, and you also might have seen stuff I've written over at Rambles.net, The Green Man Review, and SMRT-TV.com.
If you feel like being nice to me, I've got a wishlist full of stuff at Amazon.