"Tell me who are You in such a fierce form? My salutations to You, O best of gods, be merciful! I wish to understand You, the primal Being, because I do not know Your mission."
The Supreme Lord said: "I am become Party Guy, the mighty destroyer of tedium, out to destroy. Even without your participation all the revelers standing arrayed in the opposing rooms shall cease to mope.
"Therefore, get up and attain glory. Conquer your hors d'oeuvres and enjoy a prosperous fete. All these (partygoers) have already been entertained by Me. You are only an instrument, O Arjuna."
I tend to think of the calendar year as a giant Monopoly board, with each side (roughly) correlating to a season and Go as New Year's day. You can extend this metaphor a bit, with Park Place/Boardwalk as Thanksgiving/Christmas, but once you try to find parallels to the thimble and top hat playing pieces it sort of breaks down.
We earthlings are creatures of routine, whether in Monopoly or the game called life (not to be confused with the Game of Life), and I've been noticing over the past year that right around the Pennsylvania and Short Line Railroads, when the weather really begins to change, peoples' clothing doesn't seem to follow suit immediately. Stuck as we are in our ways, it seems our wardrobe is a lagging indicator of the climate.
This Spring I vowed to pay more attention to the weather report and let a t-shirt suffice instead of throwing on a sweater just because I'd been habituated. I thought given the 80-degree high temperature predicted today that others would join me, but an unscientific sampling on the way to work concluded otherwise (mean number of layers > 2!), making me feel like some sort of fashion rebel just for wanting to avoid unnecessary insulation. Well, nuts to that. Forget everyone, I'm doing short sleeves.
4 years, 4 months, and 12 days ago a scared young boy walked into the Vindigo offices and started his first job out of school. A couple hours later, I lured him into a dark alley (fact: young boys love dark alleys), stole his employee badge, and took his place.
Why are song lyrics sites so uniformly awful and abrasive? Is the basic human urge for deciphering Snow's sultry flow or wishing the Yin Yang Twins would speak up just a scintilla above that for debt consolidation and natural male enhancement? There's even a spurious "Lyrics Wiki" (to which I will not link so as avoid solidifying its search ranking) which has single-handedly set Wiki people back 50 years.
So far the only wholesome, pop-up free, user-editable Lyrics site I can find is Lyriki, but at this point, based solely on the fact that I am unable to find a single Devo song, its breadth is lacking.
I took 74 photos from my window (a little over 6 hours worth at five-minute intervals) yesterday and strung them together as a time-lapse movie. I wish I'd started earlier, and that the clouds hadn't interfered with the sunset, but I'm not likely to spend another warm sunny day indoors trying again soon.
In the large format you can see the residents of the tall luxury building in the center lower their blinds to avoid either direct sunlight or my penetrating voyeuristic gaze.
:: In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of the economically disadvantaged
April is one of the four months of the year when I think that, aside from malnutrition, deleterious personal hygiene, emotional instability, crippling poverty, physical vulnerability, police harassment, lowered self-esteem, threat of random violence, and the resultant life-or-death fending for sustenance, safety, and sanity on a daily basis, being homeless might not be so bad. I mean, how can you complain when it's like 71 degrees outside? Being an illegal immigrant seems pretty cushy too.
I tend to think of the calendar year as a giant 
