Okay.
I need to rant.
I imagine if the power existed where you could rewind time and go back and make different decisions that we'd all be endlessly stuck in an infinite loop back in the stone age wondering whether or not we should keep rubbing those stupid sticks together or just give up and rest our raw and aching hands because, after all, this feels pretty stupid --doesn't it?-- and it's just because the damned sticks got hot and hot meant something, and hot can do something, but of all the possible somethings we thought it would mean, we could never imagine the somethings we got from it, so we rubbed and rubbed those stupid sticks and next thing you know we're no longer running around naked and killing things when we get hungry because we're too busy figuring out how to change the freakin' TV back to widescreen display and what the hell we ever did before HDTV, not that I can even enjoy HDTV because my eyes are so bad all I need to do is pop my contacts out and nothing could ever possibly be HD again --ever-- so I might as well just rip the stupid thing out of the wall and run around naked and throw rocks and stuff at the bastards who thought rubbing the sticks together was some kind of a good idea in the first place, but they'd just woefully shake their heads back and forth like they're watching some slow-motion underwater naked tennis match (on HDTV) and sigh and say "Looks like nobody's talking to that whacko Smith again... tsk, tsk... and he's not writing again, either."
Pathetic.
Okay.
I got it out of my system.
BEDFAM 24
--A.S.
