and we got a new sticker for our skateboard today

a little alien with the quote: "Believe."

They just shut down A-Basin. Argh. My snowboard sits in the garage, mocking me. You suck, it says, when things are quiet and only I can hear. There's snow in New Zealand.

The retort of "it's garage sale season" usually shuts it up.

What if all these fantasies
Come flailing around
Now I've said too much
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

Still losing my religion, as REM sings. I'm on a God-kick with my stories, long and short. In the latest I'm exploring Duty vs Faith. In Kingdom of Heaven Balian is told: "I put no stock in religion. God is here (mind) and here (heart) and it's what you do every day..." Nobody says that it's bringing the two together that's so hard.

I keep writing about characters who are doing what they think is right--hell, they do what is right--but it makes no difference against the machination of the world in which they live and fight and breathe. Got to have a happy ending, I know, just once, for something different. I think, I hope, I pray Braedon will succeed. He haunts me as his god haunts him. I think he will, but it's hard to feature a happy ending in Busherica.

I can't stand Bush or politics in general. Politicos are just sales guys with great marketing departments, and if you've read me very long you know I loathe sales guys.

Meanwhile, in WC news, those guys are selling their falls hard. Why doesn't it work with any consistency at all? Holy shit, refs, get it together. I got the "how to gain respect as a ref" talk today by the neighbor's wife, and she's in a position to know. Amazing how like child-rearing it is.

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