(no offense to the ducks!) Each day, the thinking soul awakens from a night of chasing sleep, and their first question is… why? They
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The Gifts of the Good
In the world of suck, where one year blends into the previous, and the year ahead appears in the mind that it will be another
Sunday Baroque
“It is cruel, you know, that music should be so beautiful. It has the beauty of loneliness and of pain: of strength and freedom. The
Happy Go Lively
Wallowing in the pit of despair created by the psychopath’s deeds can turn even the most Pollyanna-enriched soul into a soured curmudgeon, nearly incapable of
Saturday Jazz
“I refuse to “look up.” Optimism nauseates me. It is perverse. Since man’s fall, his proper position in the universe has been one of misery.”
Slivers of Common Sense – Or Avoiding Permanent Butt Fumble Mode
As the world continues to butt fumble (see below – a guaranteed laugh) its way toward offing itself due to a strain of non-humans that
Dispatches from the Asylum 