It is, more or less, ok.

There is, in evolutionary theory, an idea that within a society, some genotypes may be selected not because of their ability to survive and reproduce but because their behavior, while individually detrimental, benefits the entire population and thus is worth keeping around. I believe the millions of people who are dumb enough to leave unsecured wireless networks named "Linksys" lying around fall under this category, and I love them for it. Without them, this post would not be possible.

In fact, neither would any kind of internet access from our new Bostonian den, which is still mostly made of cardboard boxes and uncertain financial forecasting. Don't misunderstand, it's a very nice apartment. We just need to make the transition from "corrugated hairball hacked up by a U-Haul truck" to "legitimate residence".

For those who don't know or don't care, there is a new World of Warcraft expansion out. I haven't played much of it, but there's a very strong sense that if I want to keep playing WoW, I'll need to spend some very serious time with it very soon, since all our internet friends are already at level awesome and I'm still level... not. As Penny Arcade put it, "if I wait too long it'll be like going to high school with an older brother who refuses to recognize you in the hall." But maybe that's a good thing.

It is noon. It is now time to unpack the kitchen. Tally ho.

well hello again

So. I "dressed up" as the Corinthian for Halloween, a man with an excess of teeth. Ironically, I actually ended the night with fewer teeth than I'd set out with, thanks to a high-impact dental brawl with a candy apple whose shiny sugary coating would have challenged most bunker-buster warheads. But $250 and a pleasant half hour of drilling later, my tooth is back in business. Better yet it's artificial, which I've just realized qualifies me as a cyborg. You humans can go back to your smoking blue-soundstage hovels; I've got lasers to calibrate.

By this point we've all voted. Bully for us. Mother suggested this morning that it might be worth it to save Obama paraphernalia so we can later dig it out of our musty horrible old man attics and wave it at our uncaring grandchildren as they sit in their virtu-pods- so we can tell them We Were There. It's a neat idea to think that this might be a major historic event, but I think I'm too cynical to believe that the kind of change people predict will really happen. The issue to me is that Americans are still slothful, ignorant, religious wump-bugglers who don't know what they want, and the political system is designed to make change slow and gradual. I will not tirade here though: I am not well-enough informed to make my particular brand of wump-buggling stand out as anything special, so there's no reason to inflict it on my (future) self or anyone else. That said... I'm just as fingers-crossed hoping-with-bated-breath anxious about this election as everyone else. God dammit I hope he wins.

Tomorrow I will make a pretty picture. Today I will not. In its place, I give you permission to picture an alto sax wrestling Al Pacino on the inside of a tube sock.