Our lives are on burning paper...

Right now, Crim is the furthest thing from my mind. Actually, I suppose something I can't even think about is the furthest thing from my mind...but that's our language. Imprecise and inelegant. And we expect it to do so much - heal wounds, bring about peace, explain why a guilty man should be imprisoned and an innocent man go free. I have less and less faith in language. It doesn't do its job. Or maybe that's unfair. Maybe this is like asking a child to think like an adult, or demanding someone without a watch tells you the time. I don't even know why I'm writing these words.

The futility of language is something I think about all the time, mostly because I rely on words so much, but also because I need to think that there is a reason for "the way thing are" beyond greed, or evil, or Republicans.

A man says to a woman - it's not you it's me. A woman says to a woman - I can't listen to you when you're like this. A man says to a man - I never loved you. What do all these people mean? What are they saying about how they feel?

Section 7 violation. Code 46. Trying to make rules out of threads.


Sorry about all the seriousness. I'll make it up with this crazy foosball video - dig the 80's hair rock! That defense bank shot is sick sick sick.

Need more? Download them here.


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