11 April 2003 I'm late. I'm late, for a very important ... ah, who am I kidding. A lot of self-important chest beating people are foaming at the mouth on the Fox News (oxymoron) Channel. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the spring heat is upon us in the great state of Texas and a Chinese film playing in the background is putting my teeth on edge. Some guy is singing (or someone drove nail through his ankle, hard to tell which) about a mythological prince in a mythological land who did mythological deeds in the name of mythology.
China, you see, is haunted by ghosts from thousands of years past right up to yesterday, and they all have something to say.
Meantime, down on the farm, Joe Cotton is weeping copiously tears in an effort to save money on watering his cotton fields - which aren't looking too healthy at the moment.
Meanwhile, up in the attic, I'm dreaming of the day when I can slip loose this mortal coil and sail through the air like a bird - No, I don't mean die - I mean out-of-body existence. Wouldn't it be great to be able to enter and exit one's body at will and, in the etheric form, float about with complete control of direction and pass through walls and ceilings as easily as passing through air while falling from a 90-foot bridge?
Well, I did spend a lot of time in California, so you have to allow for a certain amount of self-delusion on occasion.
Speaking of Iraq, things look kind of grim if you're a looter. It seems like the troops are putting their boots down and forcing some free sprited thieves to let go of their ill-gotten gains. This is a catastrophe in the making! How will we earn the respect of this ancient and noble race if we don't allow them a few weeks of all-out looting? It's a disgrace I tell ya. A damn disgrace!
Meantime, back at the office, that's where I'm heading now and that means - I'm out. Have a good weekend one and all.