2003-10-22 - 4:59 p.m.
You will be happy to learn that when they send your humble narrator into the vast wastes of west Texas in ten days, he will be accompanied by a fancy portable computer, ostensibly included among his travel gubbins so that he can work round the clock. He will, however, use it as often as unstable hotel dialup connections permit to update his website as well, so not only should there be no protracted silence from the Mirabile Visu corner of the world, but there will also be ample opportunity to read me droning on about Texas, grumbling about the three connecting flights I'll be taking, carrying on my anthropological studies......and meanwhile, back home, as is generally the case when I go away, exciting things will start happening that do not happen when I am here. I will receive news a couple of days after my departure, I'm sure, of some sort of Rock-Star-Convention being held two blocks from my favourite pub, or of the erection (really, now -- tsk tsk) of a large sign outside the Regina city limits that reads "$50,000 to the First 150,000 Visitors to City Hall -- Offer Expires November 10." These will be the weeks in which liquid gold will rain from Saskatchewan skies and Reginans (Reginians? Reginoids?) will learn to live together in peace and harmony while, no doubt, west Texas experiences a massive snowfall, its first since the last Ice Age. I know this sounds awfully pessimistic, folks, but it's actually the most verisimilitudious, the most verisimilitudish, the most verisimilitudelicious of realist realisms. Really. Just you watch.
The folks at theonion.com are clearly enjoying the fact that, since sometimes life is stranger than fiction, they can inspire uncontrollable giggling with the simple statement of straight-faced fact.
And as well, since one can never have too many links to quality internet funny, I urge you to go have a peek at some recent GYWOs. Hidden in their clip-art frames are the seeds of a deep understanding of human nature, if human nature were characterized by a tendency not to grow up past the age of thirteen and to spend most days with a telephone handset pressed to the skull and a face displaying an unwaveringly calm, concerned visage. Which, apart from the calm and the concern, is probably not as far off as it seems, really.
