A friend my age who works in public health recently told me the story of his colonoscopy to get me comfortable with the idea of submitting to all the bullshit that the medical geniuses have determined, in their wisdom, that people like us have to endure. My response, quoting bits of his email, is below -- for posterity & stuff.

For various reasons, this is going to be the place I do my writing for a while. I'll still keep up with email, of course, but I'm over the board and other time sinks like it.

I've spent untold hours reading and blabbing over there, and I'm not presently feeling all that great about that focus. Still love the people I've loved for a long time, and I still appreciate so many of the others. But many have become mere acquaintances, and some of the usual suspects don't have that much to say to me anymore nor I to them. Plus, I divert too much effort there.

I'm convinced that a more focused, less reactive model would be a better outlet for my writing skills and a better way to develop my point of view. In any case, I'll have somedamnthing to show for my time.

 Election time finds Cow Planet residents on the fence.

What is up with my old friend?

Blogosphere

I mean blog already sucks six kinds of ass as a name, and that's even before it's repeated like some kind of stinky mantra by every clueless dork who wants to pretend to hipness. Then they compound the horror by amending that contraction/compression/crumple zone of a word with the fakey-ass reference to environmental science. I nearly puke up a kidney every time I read that Frankensteinian abomination, and hearing it spoken is many times worse.