The end

I am finding myself strangely compelled by this. Not so much for the visuals, but because it had never occurred to me before that the music of the Apocalypse might actually be just as soothing as this suggests.

Things I think about. Pt. II

I realize this month something that I have probably always known, but have never been able to articulate:

I hate bullet points.

Bullet points are to writing what a plain cinder block wall is to architecture: functional but an affront to style.

Ok, sure, writing is about communicating clearly, and bullet points are a fiendishly efficient way to communicate information. But they're just so damned ugly. It is not an accident, I believe, that the really great writers of history don't use bullet points.

Where would this country be today, for example, if our Founding Fathers had access to the easy Bullet Point function in MS Word?

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with the following unalienable rights:
- life;
- liberty;
- the pursuit of happiness.

Not cool.

This is just to say...

I have gambled away our nest egg

And sold the children

Into servitude

Even though

You were probably

Going to take them

To the park this afternoon

Forgive me

They were being annoying.

Oh, and I

Burned down the house.

Truth in Advertising

I ran across this on a discussion group recently and I immediately thought of my college friend Patti. Long ago, she was involved in an escapade that I I will not detail since she is now a respectable woman of the world with real prospects, such as a seat in Congress or a cushy judicial appointment. But suffice it to say that it ended with the marquee of an innocent hotel reading "Our Shower Leak Pee." (If you know her, ask her yourself - she'll probably be happy to share the story, complete with photos).