Ponderification.

As I sit here sipping coffee (Much better coffee than I had yesterday, even though it has a slight taste of hazelnut, which I hate, it's still a step up) I think about stuff. Not particularly interesting things, nor are they relevant, meaningful, insightful, or world-changing. I wonder about things like why we, as humans, have decided it'd be "just fine" to pickle an egg. Eggs stand pretty good on their own, ya know. I tried pickling eggs once, and you know what they tasted like? Eggs, with a splash of brine... Maybe I didn't do it right. I think there is still a sealed bucket of long-ago pickled eggs in my backyard. Why didn't anyone eat them? Are they still good? Maybe I could dress them up a little and serve them at a party? Could they be our next sustainable fuel source? These are the questions that run through my mind.

I also wonder what's on TV, and as usual the answer is blaringly apparent - there is NOTHING good on TV. You know why? Because if it was stimulating, intelligent entertainment, 90% of the people in the world wouldn't understand it. Throw some claptrap on the screen about rich housewives arguing over who gets the wear the $100,000 dress and it appeals to everyone. Because people are stupid, and don't know any better.

And worms, I think about worms. They seem to have a good life for simple organisms that swim around underground eating dirt or whatever. But what if I were a worm with an inner ear imbalance (I know, worms don't have ears), and I could only chew through dirt in circles? Eventually it'd be more excrement than dirt. I'd be circling around in my own little ring of shit and wouldn't know it because my sense of taste had slowly adapted. It's starting to sound a lot like being human and watching a lot of bad TV while eating poorly pickled eggs...

Anyway, that's the sort of thing that crosses my mind, every minute of every day.

If you are intrigued by these thoughts, and should like to subscribe to my newsletter, send a self-addressed stamped envelope to 666 Hell Way, Insanity Island, CA, 94117

kloveyabye! an' may yer bloomers ne'er ride up o'er yer peepers.

Frank