DISCONTENT swims through my veins like a fish in the sea, tap-dances on my sinuses like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers wearing No masks, whispers in my ear like a telemarketer of the mysteries. My muscles are restless. I want to know what the Fairy Hobo said to the Cyborg Mermaid, but they went off sniffing drainpipes, and reciting the alphabet. I want to see the great mosque at Djenné, the largest mudbrick structure in the world, and the Watts towers.
Why are there only three episodes on the first Vampire Princess Miyu DVD, but four on the second? Isn't this a violation of some natural law, like the fact that the Higgs Boson can't be found, and there is currently no plausible explanation for the concept of mass? Why did Amazon ship the third Harry Potter book before it shipped the second? Is there a God in the Harry Potter universe, and if so, would he approve of Harry marrying Draco?
So many questions to be answered. Instead of answering them, I will go off and watch Adolescence Mokushiroku, which just arrived. The answers may be there, but I doubt it, it will probably just be a lot of stuff about taxicabs and cows and swordfights and girls kissing, and lots and lots and lots of roses. I may plant a rose garden in the spring, if I can bestir myself to clear the mass of Tree-of-Heaven (Ailanthus altissima) that has overtaken what used to be a vegetable garden before my wild animals ate it all.
In a month, I will be one-twentieth of a millennium old, and I still can't spell 'millennium' without the aid of a spellchecker. I can't even find a prose style that I can stick with, and you may notice that the style of this post is completely different from the style of the 'Christmas' post, and, no, I haven't been drinking again. I re-read my Laputa review that Amazon has finally posted, and I think it sucks, but I can't change it, it will stand forever to testify that I am a very bad writer.
These fragments I have shored against my ruins.
Film at 11!