Your leaking thatched hut during the restoration of a pre-Enlightenment state.

 

Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").



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Like my brownhouse:
   ice cold watah
Thursday, October 11 2001

This morning as I was walking to the subway there was a woman walking her big fluffy yellow dog on the other side of Prospect Park West and she was shouting at someone, a homeless person I suppose, a block ahead of her, "If I ever catch you sleeping there, ice cold watah!" Evidently this person had done something worthy of revenge, but I wasn't inclined to investigate further.
Later this evening as I was coming out of the Q station on 7th Avenue in Brooklyn, I came upon a little antiwar protest being held right there on the corner with Flatbush. A dozen or so people stood around holding eight by eleven printouts with simple messages in big sans-serif letters, "STOP THE BOMBING" and a peace symbol, for example. It crossed my mind that these people were oversimplifying the situation as much as the people who want to bomb Afghanistan back to the Jurassic.

So then I'm there at home wanting to have CNN on all the time, not wanting to come into breaking news late (as I did on the morning of September 11th). But CNN is an addiction like chewing gum. After awhile you're a tired and frustrated captive, just wanting to do something, anything, else, and yet you keep on.

For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?011011

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