Mythological Creatures

It is the third age of Man. From out of the West come strange beasts atop the scions of Saturn and Mercury. Haunting mortals with their bizarre ways, they prey upon the time of the employed and thus cause their feet to ache and heads to spin. They are the Ogre and Jason.

They come bearing intoxicating ethers that bring forth a cavalcade of light and sound, forming visions of epic battles and incessant wasting of time.

Lo, the Ogre did return to regions west atop his mighty Saturn, and Jason has ventured boldly to the land of Phil-on-the-Delphia for a brief rendevous, but their curse of slack shall remain. I swear I have more fiction in the works, including some stuff about iPods. iPods are still cool, right? I'll get right on that.

Weekend in Connecticut

The Canny Mr. Summerer sums up the weekend quite succinctly, but I would like to add three points to the account.

1. Eric and Stephanie are the nicest, most pleasant people I know, and I take every opportunity to point this out. Why? Because their qualities transcend most casual observation of humanity. It's not that they are "nice" so much as that they are a living mathematical proof of karmic balance. I am always very happy when good things happen to them because it brings a sense of wholeness to the universe.
   
2. Their house is in the woods just north of Lake Waterous and it is huge and scenic and they should have parties there.
3. Connecticut still holds the world's record for most clinically diagnosed morons driving automobiles.
   

Railyard Morality

A bitter pill to swallow. But if you have trouble following this one simple rule, the fine people of the NJ rail system have considered the alternative for you.