There are so many angry people in the world now.

I notice this more and more as I try to search for well, something. I just don't know what it is i'm searching for, or if i'm searching for anything, or if i'm just telling myself i'm searching for something in order to avoid the alternative.

I walked through the streets of Atlanta. I felt a certain power in being able to walk through the streets in the middle of the road, like fuck you man who you think you messing with? Someone comes they just have to stop, screw them. They can hit me for all I care.

I dunno about a lot of things now. The main thing i've noticed about my life is that they mostly don't make a freaking difference. I mean i'm here and i'm there and i'm just sort of here though so it's like whatever. Here. Welcome to here. Wherever you go there you are and theres no escaping it. You just can't get away from yourself until a little switch goes off in your mind while you're thinking it and you start screaming WHOOOOOOOO ARE YOU, WHO HOWHOH WHO WHO IREALY WANNA TKNOW. But you don't know becaause you're just there man you're just screwing around. And do you have a point and do you care in the end, probably not.

You start drinking and drinking and pretty soon that twelve pack of whatever the hell it was just isn't enough and it's back to the streets to find another homeless bum who makes drinking age laws stupid as hell. Good thing they close the liquor store on sunday, OR IS IT?

Drinking is fun because the world is different and once you've given up on your world it really doesn't make much difference. Being sober can seem sort of stupid when the world is far too sobering already. I find myself much more agreeable when drunk. I'm not screaming at people to go to hell all the time or threatening lives or anything like that. Quite simply i'm finding that liquor makes the world bearable. Okay, so i've decended into alcoholism. Big deal. Thats what college is suppose to be all about or something. Or maybe i'm not really drunk, maybe i'm just convincing myself that, despite the fact that both of my parents can drink anyone into the floor, and that I don't even get a hangover in the morning, thats just a side effect of everything.

But it's all a big deal now. A big old sloppy fat deal. Deal they say. Deal with what? I ain't got to deal with nothing and maybe thats the problem. Maybe thats why i'm here yelling at people. It could all be a desprate cry for help, or maybe it's a warning. Maybe it's just the big fuck you sister get your pants off my property under the full damn moon.

So you go on and on and pretty soon the world starts fading. I mean sure theres a war going on and people yelling and pissing everyone off but who cares. The world is a wonderful place for the absent of mind. Scccrew it though. I mean after a while you realize that you're hurting people but do you care? Maybe thats the problem they say. Except that was your goal from the beginning so maybe it's not really the problem. Maybe they're the problem. That makes a lot more sense. And so every so often you can't feel the right side of your body. Man that only happens like once in six months or so and only for like five minutes. Once in a blue moon no less. Man it's on with the on and the on in the on. Ramble ramble thats all you do they say yeah thats all I do I don't got thoughts no more. I threw those away with my coat. Fuck my coat is at the dry cleaners. God damn. When you mispell damn HAH enemy of the state hah. Memories nothing more they are I remember who I knew but mostly it's just going on and going on and the sky rolls over and stuff and big scary men in trenchcoats fly out of clouds talking about the transitive tense because they got the mad skills yo and suddenly they use your own lines on you like fuck you man who you think you messing with thats Don's line, yo. Well excuse me Shaft I ain't got nothing to say. Hey man it's all fair my dad got to put you in chains so you can go to college or some shit man whatever thats the way it is. Ain't nothing special about it just racial karma. Karma hah that kfx whatever man go slueeet. That's not a word man but it should be it's fun to type. Damn it's so stupid stupid stupid and you know you can't really get the thoughts out of your head that no matter what from now on you're WORTHLESS and thats the shit man. Screw those dreams they're done with. Waste of your goddamn time. Nothing you can do about it. Whatever man. It's all stupid stupid stupid stupid. And I a noble grunty have the following to say man it's all stupid stupid stupid yo. Golden Egg. That's funny about .hack how they all say what they are like yo dude I know you're a pumpkin, you don't gotta go "LA PUMPKIN" all the damn time for me to figure it out. I mean sure I didn't know you were spanish but thats just the way it goes. We're all men and pumpkins here. So yeah it's just there. In the city bombs are falling they say but really those still action cameras where they have a whole big lot of nothing going on aren't very intersting as previously described. Hey remember that building we all stared at for like a month while the war was going on? Yeah man what the hell was up with that. I dunno. Maybe it's like one of those things they do to take your mind off the bad shit. Yo, people are dying, here, take a look at this... BUILDING. Damn brilliant. You got it more figured out than I do thats for damn sure. For sho'. What's that suppose to mean? It's suppose to mean whatever it does. And damn man who was suppose to call out the people flying out of tanks like yo we got these fourteen year olds. War is fun. Man if I hadn't gone back to high school I could be killing people and not going to jail for it, and wouldn't that be sweet. My grandparents always wanted me to join the navy. My grandfather was a navy man, and my father was a navy man, and i'm a no good beatnik loser who can't even rebel by going to a school outside of the goddamn south. Fuck it man. Worthless. Why didn't I apply to oberlin? Oh yeah no smoking. No smoking college hah. MARIST SCHOOL NO SMOKING ON CAMPUS. I saw that once while I signed up for the SAT's which I didn't do well enough on to get into a college that would have prevented me from destroying myself but like it's all over now so whatever. It's all stupid anyway. Stupid stupid stupid stupid just like me and thats the way it is. You can't escape destiny. Espically if you're in my bracket. Unless you're those gonzaga bastards who screwed up my bracket. Thank god for people like gonzaga who prove you wrong. Oh well at least I win $200 in booze money. I use to envy people like those fictional characters on sluggy freelance because I always thought it'd be cool to live Torg's life, even though I look more like Riff and they never get laid. Though he may try. Poor guy. Alas my Punyverse died long ago. And man you tell people you're sorry but you can't say it to the people it matters to you because they're the ones who made you miserable in the first place and god dammit maybe it is their fault. And eventually it's like that guy sitting in the stands at the Georgia/Georgia Tech hockey game, (define futility) screaming, at the top of his lungs, "NO OPINION, NO OPINION, WOOO!" yeah. It's stupid. It's worthless. Oh but college isn't the rest of you're life they say. Oh but it's the last years of my youth I can never have back I reply. But this and but that and it's not like that. I wanted something and I strove for five years for that goal and I failed and I ended up where I wanted to be the least. Thats the way it goes. Five years, wasted. Down the drain. I can't have those five years of my life back and I can't have the next five back either. And maybe it'll look up and maybe it wont but does it really matter? No. It's just there. Thats all it is. There. In the back of your mind. Telling you in the morning how goddamn worthless you are. God I wish I had a hangover instead of that shit. Instead of that little nagging voice which told me to go right back out and get wasted or that i'd have to deal with it. Saying yeah you know your life was taken from you and you can't do a god damn thing about it, bastard. Well excuse me voice what business is it of yours I say and it says man you're the one saying it. What the hell ever. I just give up man it's all stupid. I wanted to talk to God once but now I Just want to give him the finger and I don't neeed to talk to him to do that because it's easy and he knows my rage it's like pre-emptive karma it's like how children die in horrible choking incidents with a pokemon bouncy ball and then their parents sue everyone involved and ruin several lives and BAM--- REVERSE KARMA. Hah it's stupid. What what no no point. Yeah, dumb. As always, dumb. Failure at everything. Right. I know man you don't have to remind me of anything except the obvious which you are so I guess I can't complain. Man why'd I start wearing a trenchcoat? I don't know doesn't make much sense. Just did it. Looked cool. People stopped fucking with me in a hurry thats for sure and thats worth half of it. Once I changed my trenchcoat and my worthless Yale ex girlfriend told me blah blah blah and I forget but basically she told me that I changed my coat and that at least I looked different. Like i'm a machine or cog some sort of static element of the enviornment and yeah it's stupid but for some reason I can't help the feeling that i'm just some sort of static element of my enviornment like she said like how I know everything thats going to happen before it happens or so says my bracket. Man I told you fuckers Syracuse was going to win the national championship. Maybe i'll get lucky and they'll lose but man I don't think so. Man what a waste of time this was and everything was and yeah and I was. And so begins my strange journey through the other side of consciousness and quite frankly, whatever. I can just slap slap and man thats a girlfriend right there. Why the hell did I apply to those fucking schools. Thats right, girlfriend, best friend. Yale, Princeton, early decision. Interesting quote from the New Yorker about that. If you apply to an Ivy League school, not early decision, and you're also a white male, stick a fork in you. You're done. Man fuck people. Fuck them all. So i'd be worth something more than just a fucking rock if I fit some goddamn pigeon hole if I spoke fluent Mandarin or if I shot better than an olympic sharp shooter. And whatever fuck people because if I shot that well I wouldn't be shooting targets. Target is a funny store. The people on their commercials always seem so happy. My aunt the one that disowned my mother because shes a total bitch (my aunt that is) use to call it the "Tar-jay". She was fucking tar gay. I hope she rots in hell because shes worthless. Yeah lets get all riled up over a fucking five dollar inheritance. Screw people they're all born stupid and they stay that way, I hate them and I don't need them though they tell me I do no matter what I want to believe. I don't want to believe anything. I just want to be happy but I had that shot out a wall in the fifth grade when people beat the shit out of me and now i'm going to finish the fucking job one of these days god dammit why can't I just end the fucking pain. maybe people hate me because i'm an asshole they say. Yeah i'm an asshole and you made me that way so fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, and you know what? fuck you. Love was just some bullshit they made up back in the fifties for television. Whatever man. It's all stupid stupid stupid just like me. Man I wish I hadn't had all those times I wasted all that money I wasted on college I could have spent on booze or something or maybe pot. I haven't smoked pot before but whats stopping me now. Not like I need federal grant money or anything now. Goddamn fafsa people tell me when I tell them i'm thinking about joining the air force that it's beneath me. Well fuck you. The air force isn't beneath anything. They fly fucking planes. What are they beneath? dark fucking matter? It doesn't matter you're just some stupid thing bred out of a legacy and sent to yale. God damn. One fucking letter one different turn of the dice if my life had been just a little different hah. Whatever. It's all stupid stupid stupid. Stupid. And who cares? Who cares in the end? In the end we're all just stuck up assholes with our own problems that all we want to do with them is dump them on other people and then we go crazy when we realize that NOBODY FUCKING CARES oh man it's funny. It's hilarious. But after you give up your solutions you give up your problems too. Thats the secret. The secret is there isn't a point there isn't any fucking high score list we all stand before God and get cut down in the end anyway and thats just how it ends fuckers. Thats how it fucking ends you hear? Hah. Whatever whatever. There isn't any God theres just some monkey with a guitar who can't play a D chord. I can't play a d chord. I'd need massive fucking callouses and I only have enough callous for my demeanor so that just isn't going to work. Why did things have to go this way? I don't know man but they did so I did and they did and here they are they're done did and now it's did. It's now and it's always now and it's always brutal and it's always painful and there is no escape not even death where all thats going to happen is you're just going to think about how miserable the universe is until maybe just maybe you get to that point where you stop and you can't think anymore you can't think about people falling out of the bathroom faucet you can't think about the daddy long legs spider you killed in a fit of rage when you befrended it you can't think about all the things that cause you pain in life like me and then you can finally rest but either way it's all thought and you still gotta think it you still have to get it done man I don't have anything to get done and sorry this ain't no suicide note but don't worry it ain't no homicide note either. I just hate and I hate and most of all I hate myself for what I've become and what I want to become. Damn it's stupid. Damn. Why couldn't it have been a little better, a little happier? Why couldn't we have all just gotten along. Why couldn't I have been born in South America. When I die supposedly a cockroach named Pablo will be born there. That is the prophecy. Does Pablo have a right to live moreso than I do? Do I have a right to live moreso than Pablo does. What sort of a world would I be bringing Pablo into. I'll tell you. A world where he'll just be a stupid thing that does stupid things to stupid people who were born in a stupid place to stupid parents who will grow up to be stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I don't know why that word keeps comming up in my mind but I can't get rid of it. Am I a skitzo? No. I don't see things. I don't hear voices in my head. I just think constantly and I think about what I hate. I use to like Buddhism because this guy told me the problem with the world was the way people think "thumbs up, thumbs down" but maybe thats the way it should be so I don't like it so much anymore. The Dali Lama must have a really nifty nifty what what thingy oh yeah deal because when he reincarnates he knows exactly where he'll end up. He doesn't have to put in an application. SORRY, BUT YOUR LAMA IS IN ANOTHER CASTLE. Whatever man. You know for a spiritually enlightned being hes pretty mass marketed. He should just like write something down and say here it is, whatever. And what was the point of that he would ask? Well maybe you have something to say. Do I? Do you? Does anyone? No I dunno man I just don't know I just know I hate and I hate and I grow to hate more every day. But like I said most of all I hate myself and what I became and what i'm becomming and everything that I have to deal with everyday and how I have to wake up and think god your life is so different from how it should have been and now there is not a god damn thing you can do about it. Espically since there is no God. Just some monkey with a Guitar. Monkies are funny individuals. I got addicted to this stupid program where you type in a name and two monkies fight and they eat food. It's funny. I still have all these girl scout cookies I haven't eaten. Boxes of them. Man i'm stupid I should eat my cookies but quite honestly I just haven't been eating lately man whatever food is for the weak. So is sleep. Sleep is stupid because when you're trying to sleep all you can think about is your failures or how you want to get laid and I don't want to get laid so i'm fucked. They use to say an intellectual was someone who has found something more interesting than sex actually I think I read that on some site called eros blog and here you are wondering why the fuck did this stupid stupid stupid stupid fucker even bother and i'll tell you why I bothered because someone should know because there should be some sort of record of my frustration and my stupidity and everything else. You think there should be some sort of record or something and that it means something and that maybe one day you'll be able to look back and go HAH, Man was I stupid! Except man you never get to. I've never looked back on anything i've done and said 'Man, that was stupid' that way. I mean everything i've done i've done for a reason and it's all failed for one reason or another and just everything is a dismal failure and it's going to stay that way. There really isn't anything we can do. So here it is my record. My little note to myself splayed out somewhere so someone can say man. That fucker is stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. And personally I wouldn't be inclined to disagree with you. Yeah i'm stupid i'm not with you i'm not against you and least of all i'm definately not you because i'm me whatever that is. It's nothing. So yeah. There it is. A record of whatever you want to call it broken dreams or a fucked up mentality or just some drunkard bitching about nothing except how he hates himself hah. So yeah i've accomplished a whole lot for someone who never did anything man stupid stupid me whatever. Useless. Everything is futile anyway. If I thought there was a goal to something now I would probably be less inclined to do it because that means it will have a failed result. Maybe I could take up a carrer fortune telling. Maybe I could do the whole homeless prophet thing and foretell of a time when democrats will disaffect themselves in something more impressive than the Hartford Convention and yeah. Whatever. Ugh. I hate me. It's all very simple and thats the way it came out and now all people can say is GOSH i'm SORRY that happened and go back to bitching about their miserable lives. Well fuck you, but thats okay because I know the feeling is mutual. Fuck it man and thats the way it is until we go our seperate ways and whatever it's stupid stupid stupid stupid anyway. Whatever. So yeah. I've stared at this screen whatever for a long time now and now i'm done I think unless i'm not but I am so I am and there. Yeah, I know. It's stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

What would stand/alone/bitch do?

Greetings fellow noders! I know my tri-yearly daylog has been anticipated for quite some time now, so here you go!.

Things here at Auburn University are pretty much the Same as it Ever Was, except for there is this uber cool dude walking around campus with a mohawk. Yes, that cool dude is I, boywithlegs! See, the other day, it was time to shave my head, as I do every 2 months or so, 'cept my friend decided it would be a good idea to give me a mohawk. I agreed, and the last week or so has been the most exhilarating of my life! Well, maybe not, but I had never really realized the infamy of a nonconformist before. I mean, I wouldn't call myself a punk per-se, although I do listen to bands such as Unwound, Joan of Arc, etc. that no one I know has heard of. Punk, no; diverse record collection, perhaps.

Also, I've figured out how to get free alcohol. The secret: shop lifting. See, I go to the Spectrum convenience store on the corner of Gay and Glenn, walk to the back wall, where they have all the refrigerated beverages. In the corner of the "L", on that back wall, there is a door leading to a room containing cases of beer. If you walk into that room, the clerks can't see your actions, and you can even walk behind the coolers where all of the imported beer and cheap, fruity wine is for sale, and stuff that shit in your pants! That's how I'm drinking wine coolers right now, despite the fact that I'm broke as a joke.

Anywhoo, 'bout the mohawk. The other night I was at a neighbor of mine's friend's apartment, and there was this chick across the street with a couple other dudes, so I mosied on over there and was all, "Hey, baby, you like mohawks?"

And she was all, "Oh, yeah! I only date guys with mohawks!"

And I was all, "You wanna touch one?"

And she was all, "Wow, I've never been asked that before..."

And me all, "Don't be scared, baby."

Then I think she laughed or something. She never had sex with me, irregardless, and that pretty much sums up my life right now.

In case you're wondering why 3 out of 4 of my wu's are daylogs, you can Suck a Cheetah's Dick. The one that isn't a daylog has 2 C!'s, baby, and there's plenty more where that came from.

Also, I've figured out my plans for this summer. My brother has a Sun Raider, a sort of Winnebago that you drive around to go camping with. And me and my boy are gonna live in that mofo this summer on the beaches of the Gulf Coast of Alabama this summer and work on the beach, make love to females, and drink lots of beer! So you fools won't be hearing from me for a while, not that you ever do anyway. But I'll fill you in on all the details in September.

Until then, keep it real, my cyber friends!

Update! ~After some not-so-scrutinous self examination, it was obvious that I am indeed very punk! I wipe my ass with MRR!

David Bloom
Rest in Peace

Your courage touched me...
You will be missed, and will not be forgotten.

Enlightenment grows slowly but dies quickly

Funny how that works. After 8 days up in the tasmanian wilderness I found myself relaxed, strong of body and clear of mind. It was as if the resolution had been bumped up by a factor of 2. Colours were more vibrant, edges sharper, the air tasted cleaner and I was at peace with everything around me.

/me groans - I've been back at work for 1 (count 'em - one) day now. Looking outside the colours are washed out, the lines are blurred and you could cut the air with a knife. My life, after reaching a soaring highpoint, has descended quite rapidly into the abyss. While just a week earlier I floated on the breeze now I am trapped in clay. The funny thing is, I know that my life isn't all that bad.

Everything is relative I suppose.

kowalski says i miss your daylogs... i wish you'd start writing them again.

Wouldn't want to disappoint anyone. It has been a quite a while, actually, over a month and a half since I've written a daylog, or much of anything in fact, although I still drop in to read E2 almost every day.

Let's see where I'm at. Since last time, Go Pro has moved out of the apartment (at my behest, since he was a disgusting individual who never cleaned, made a huge mess, and worst of all, drank my beer), and Eun Jung has moved in. Yes, my Korean girlfriend moved into my apartment about a month ago. She asked me if it would be possible, at some point in the indefinite future. I said it would be, if my roommates didn't live with me.

Apparently, one out of two leaving was good enough for her, since she moved in soon thereafter. It kind of took me by surprised. She'd slept at my place a couple of times before, so when we went out that Friday night, I asked her where she wanted to sleep. She said my place. She had a bag with her, and I asked her what was in it. She said a change of clothes. But then, I had somewhere to go the next evening. I asked her if I should call her when I finished, or whether we should just meet the next day. She gave me the "What, you don't know?" look and told me that she'd be waiting at home when I got back. That Sunday night, I figured that she'd be staying over again, but I still thought it was just for the weekend. The fact that she'd actually moved in only hit me when, the next morning, she asked me to give me my keys before going to work. "Don't worry," she said, "I'll be here to let you in when you get back." And that was that.

All is not well, though. I've realized that I can't marry this girl, and I'm going to have to break up with her soon. The problem, strangely, isn't what she does when I'm around, but what she doesn't do when I'm not around. She doesn't do anything. She sits at home and watches television and waits for me to get home. Having common interests isn't really important to me. I don't need a girl who loves roleplaying games, Go, creative writing and physics. I do need a girl who loves something, though. As I said in an email to my family and friends, "If she was passionate about, say, basket weaving, and spent the days filling the apartment with useless wicker baskets, I'd be content." But I love life, and want to appreciate every last minute of it by doing stuff, and being with a girl who is letting it slip through her fingers makes me feel like I'm doing the same.

Of course, I'm getting inane "I told you so," comments from my more annoying friends, who don't seem to understand that I haven't done anything worth regretting. These are the people who told me that I was a fool for getting into a relationship with a girl who said that she would expect to get engaged after a year or so if we were to be together. They don't realize that what has happened proves them wrong, rather than right. The idea behind their argument was that a year is not enough time, and that it might be a mistake to get married to someone after that little time, as you might later discover that they weren't right for you after all. The fact that I realized it after just three months proves that a year is, at least for me, more than enough time to realize if a girl is not the right one. To claim that they knew she was wrong all along would be ridiculous, as they've never met her. So I fail to see how they "told me" anything.

Enough about love. What about the rest of life? Bill and Maria have quit our school. Good riddance, except that it means more work for the rest of us. For a while, it was looking like a British friend of mine might come work here for a few months, but she had to cancel, since she got a job interview for the BBC position she's been desiring. We finally have found a new teacher, however, a middle-aged Australian woman by the name of Gayl. We're all desperately hoping that when she starts work, they're planning on giving her some of our classes, rather than creating new classes for her. Technically, our working hours are all within the provisions of our contracts, but six hours of class back-to-back is starting to erode my sanity.

Aside from love and work, what is there in life? Go. I made it into the single-digit kyu on IGS recently, and quickly soared up to 6k*, which seems to be a plateau for a lot of people. Another 6 ranks, and I'll be at the much coveted shodan level. Given my current rate of progress, I should make it at just about the same time I finish my contract at Evan-Moor School. I went to the kiwon (Badouk club) on Sunday to play some games in person, a refreshing change from always playing over the Internet. After playing a bunch of even games against similarly-ranked Korean guys in their 30s and 40s, I played a few three handicap stone games against some guy who must have been about 70 years old, and about shodan skill level or a tad weaker. He couldn't speak any English, and I don't know any of the Korean badouk (Go)terminology, but I learned a bit just from watching his reaction to my moves. Bad moves were met with a sad, slow shake of the head, while good were met with a grunt, a moment of contemplation, another grunt, and then a slow nod. I felt like I was playing with Yoda. It was great fun. I beat him by four points the first time (with 3 handicap stones, remember), while the second game, he managed to kill one of my corner groups so I had to resign.

Letting go is so hard.

This girl was the most important thing to me in the world, for maybe 2 years, until suddenly we broke contact. We both helped each other through our own individual depressions and loneliness, but this kind of total dependence ends up lasting a lot longer than the relationship. While helping each other, we also dragged each other down a lot, and after a while I realised that her constant disappointments we're only dragging me further down, though I realised this much too late, and I ended up losing my friends, and the future that I had been working towards all these years.

We initiated contact again recently, as I have previously day-logged, and now I know this is the worst mistake I have made in quite a while, as she has already begun dragging me down all over again. And the constant feeling of wanting nothing more than for her to be in my arms isn't helping. It's not that I couldn't have her, its that she hasn't changed, but I have, and I'm trying to live, trying to pull my life together, and be someone. While she is still the same person, who already has, and will continue to hurt me in the same way.

I spent last friday night waiting for her, as I used to, but she decided, without calling, to go out with some other people instead, so for the 4th time, out of the 6 organised meetings weve had recently, shes fucked with my head. Now I feel bad for telling her its not healthy for me to see her anymore. I can't concentrate on anything while knowing she exists, I can't think about anything else, but I'm trying so desperately to lose these feelings. Trying to hold in tears that don't deserve to be shed in the first place, as I know that she holds no particular care for me anymore, despite her apparent longing to get back together.

I can't get her out of my head, but I know how much it will hurt to try to continue this "friendship" or to get back together. I hate these unreliable feelings, and I hate myself for not being able to shake them. She is the cause of my depression, because she was the only cause of my happiness. I know its not all her fault, but she really tries too hard to make everyone unhappy, usually the people who she thinks will run away if they aren't, and I was never one of those people. But I am determined to be one now, for my mental health.

I really don't know what I'm saying here anymore. I need companionship, I need advice, I'm always needing other people.. But theres noone around.

I would like to offer proof that global warming is not happening, an ice storm in April. In fact I read an article posted on slashdot about how temps are not getting higher, I know this as it snows and freezing rains here.

On Friday night, West Michigan was hit with an ice storm, some places have over an inch of ice when it is all said and done. Trees are down all over, power is down all over and cable is out. At one time Consumers Power lists over 385,000 people without power.

My fiancee and I were sitting in a local restraunt when we saw a line go down. What a brilliant display of light, the sky was bright blue for a bit, then everything went dark. There is a kind of eerie feeling driving through streets that are normally lit bright with street lamps or lights from buildings and houses. Stop lights become 4 way stops and the world sort of slow downs.

It is Monday, and here I am at work, we didn't lose power at all, thanks to the generator, but for some reason we don't have out or in bound phones. We called the phone company but they are so far behind that it will take a long time to get things back to "normal". Oh well, at least I have power and E2.

From The Wall Street Journal of Friday, April 4th, "Multinational Firms Take Steps To Avert Boycotts Over War":

One of the most concerted attacks has been against Coca-Cola Co., whose competitors in parts of the Arab world are seeking to paint Coke as the soft-drink of the infidel.

Now, I don't know about you but I think "The soft drink of the infidel" is one hell of a slogan. I understand though that this would lead to a sharp decrease in sales in areas with large Muslim populations, so obviously rather than embracing this portrayal Coke needs to come up with a more Islam-friendly ad campaign. Like a laughing shaykh hoisting a bottle with the caption: "Followers of the Prophet love Coke!" Or: "All praise due to Allah...and Coke!"

Cynical? Well, say what you will Mister and Miz Armchair Soda Advertising Campaign Critic, but at least this American has a plan for winning the hearts and minds of the residents of this most volatile of regions back to the greatest soft drink (or "soda" as all right-thinking people call it) the world has ever known. When you come up with your own campaign for putting ice-cold bottles of Coke in the hands of dusky moppets all over the Arab world, you just give me a call.

By which I do not literally mean, "Give me a call." The last thing I want is for people to ring my home phone in the middle of the night telling me about their ideas re: Coca-Cola. Buncha freaks.

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