This is a post about pooping. If you’re one of those people who doesn’t poop, has never pooped, and would prefer to go on believing that no one else has ever pooped either, then you should probably not read this.
You could think of it as every person being made up of two people. One is directing the show, making most of the decisions, driving the car. It is driven largely by biological and evolutionary imperatives. It is focused almost entirely on the hierarchy of needs. The other person in there is the narrator. It’s creating a story, providing explanations, justification and supporting evidence, but it has almost no idea what’s really going on.
The only thing that Google really makes money on is web searches, and some nuclear genius whiz kid could come up with a better way of searching the web tomorrow, sell it to one of Google’s competitors, we’d all switch to using the new gizmo, and the Empire goes down the drain faster than you can say “Use the force, Luke.“
Artificial Heart is the first full album of original music that JoCo has released in 5 years, which also means it’s the first new thing he’s done since I became a fan. He was so creative and so prolific in the past that I was curious about how the delay and the intervening years would influence him, but it doesn’t seem to have dimmed his spark any. It seems like a more mature and less goofy effort, but I suppose that’s natural. Ain’t none of us gettin’ any younger, after all.
In the late 70′s and early 80′s, it became very important to have a shirt with an alligator on it, and shoes with the ‘swoosh’ thing on the sides. I have no idea why. Both brands were popular among tennis players, but I don’t remember tennis being all that popular at the time. Maybe the idea was just to look like you were wealthy enough to play tennis, or pretentious enough, or something.
We were probably 100 yards from the dining hall when the girl came through the door and headed towards us. It was almost dark, but I remember it like a high-definition movie shot at high noon and played in slow motion. Blue jeans, white shirt over a pink tank top, brilliant red hair over brilliant blue eyes, but mostly what I remember is her smile.
Most of the reviews and comments you see about the E-5 contain the same five words: “It’s built like a tank!” – which is true, but personally it reminds me more of an assault rifle. Black (naturally), solid metal, armored, practically waterproof, with big chunky buttons, clicky dials and levers and things. In fact, the on/off switch is virtually identical to the safety on an M16.
Trying to learn when you haven’t played a guitar in 15 years is almost as bad as learning from scratch, and in some ways it might be worse. My brain could remember the basic chords and scales and things, but my fingers had forgotten them entirely, so it felt a lot like trying to play with somebody else’s hands.
You can’t help but compare Twitter to Facebook, since both claim to be part of the Social Networking Phenomenon. The perception seems to be that Facebook is a blue collar, low-class sort of affair. Twitter on the other hand, is what all the cool kids are doing.
I am not a garden person. In fact, I spent much of my youth swearing profound, blood-curdling oaths that I would never, ever work in a garden again. And yet, here I am. This spring I staked out a plot (a fairly large plot, in fact) in the yard, cleared it, turned it, tilled it, and planted shit in it. Potatoes mostly, but also a few rows of corn and some green beans. We’re also planting apple trees and blackberry bushes.