Turn the tape off howler.

The drug man lifts his nose to the drifting haze of marijuana and aggressively pitches Mobsies: his unwritten screenplay revolving around a mob and zombies and debris in a post-apocalyptic setting. Chemicals in his narcotics-friendly mind suddenly shift to:
"Einstein's Theory of Relativity: that's something. That's..."
An impregnated pause--broken with a spasmodic shrill: "Time actually moves slower on different planets in the universe. Literally, clocks--clocks would move more slowly."
"Ginsberg should of been an astronaut."
"Endless spheres."

Unreflected

Dreams burn down. A Winter Semester in a less odious province is highly unlikely. Multiple obstacles have proven immovable. This is a rotten First World deal.

My sister is now an adherent to Oprah-sponsored New Ageism--"The Secret." Its theory is based on the pseudo-science of attraction.

But things are not all rotten.

Ralph Nader is coming to town on August 11th. I will soon be empowered to fight White-Collar crime.

And

Radiohead is soon to arrive in heaven-sponsored glory.

And

I have launched an additional blog.