I like a good legal battle on TV as much as the next person, if the next person runs screaming from the room at the merest hint of one of these sensationalistic tortures. Give me a Russian novel instead; make me read The Brothers Karamazov with a raging hemorrhagic eye infection. But in the name of mercy spare me the likes of Scott Peterson, OJ Simpson, and Robert Blake.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not a doofus. I went to law school. Some of the legal issues, like venue, jury misconduct, evidence admissibility, were mildly interesting. But overall, this was just a grotesque, horrible, ghastly crime committed by a monster who deserves to rot not die. Death is too easy, though in any case he’s ours for the duration. He won’t do this again. Alas, the media, typically, exploited and hardboiled it into a nightly sideshow to compliment the War going on in the big top.

I feel terribly sorry for the families of Scott and Laci and Conner. No one should have to suffer losses like that. One side lost a daughter, the other a son, and both a grandson who should have brought them infinite joy. What an inconceivable waste of lives, an unfathomable burden to those left behind. But I will say the same thing about Scott Peterson that I said about OJ Simpson nearly a decade ago: If I never see that bloody sonofabitch on my tube again, it will be too soon.

[news link]

I’ve been working on a section in my novel that takes place at dawn, and was reminded of this from C.S. Lewis:

“I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen, not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.”

OK, this is complete insanity. This war has gone from misbegotten, to wrong to evil, to entirely insane. They’re dragging people into it through the back door which one claw and shoving willing people out the front door – into prison for nothing worth mentioning – with another.

Yahoo! News

“I have learned violence makes no sense. Maybe it did once–as when we fought the Nazis–but it doesn’t make sense now. You wouldn’t hit anybody, would you? Neither would I.”

— the poet James Wright, whose birthday is today.

Check out this hilarious post about a very playful pup on dot.bench.

“The sheeping of America is nearly complete.”

— Ted Nugent

Boy, did I hit a wall in Reality last night. Everything was going pretty normal when the evening started: The doggie and I got home around 6pm, and I made a small pot of half-caffeinated coffee. I strung some Christmas lights on my balcony, then sat on the balcony and drank a cup, while looking out at the world and allowing these lights to color my perspective. Then I settled in at the computer with a second cup about 6:45, checked my e-mail and opened a chapter file to do some rewriting.

The next thing I knew, it was 8:30. I came out of a deep sleep totally confused and disoriented. I didn’t know if it was 8:30am or 8:30pm. But it’s dark. Why am I here? What day is it? For a full minute, I didn’t remember sitting down at the computer. I had a bad pain in my neck from sleeping 90 minutes in an office chair. I should try to make it to the bed.

Finally, I recovered my senses and decided to have dinner and watch TV, both activities so proximate to the core of Being as to effectively re-grid the most acute aphasia of spacetime. The only problem: I wanted cereal and toast.

Steven Wright used to say If Reality wants me, it will call back later. Well, last night it called me and got a busy signal.

I’m working on the book tonight, but I’m a little curious about something. Chapter one has been posted for about a week and a half, and no one has mentioned checking it out. Chapter two is ready, so I’m wondering is anyone is interested in seeing it. Please leave a comment. Thank you for your support.

Tonight we welcome a new recommendation to the blogroll in metaphor’s right hand gutter: http://myparkbench.com/ . I found this fine blog through blogexplosion, and I’ve been lurking for a while.

There are good reasons for my suggestion that you read this blogger’s stuff: he’s funny, he writes well, and he has a puppy. Can’t go wrong.

Secretary of Kaos Donald Rumsfeld, on being asked why US soldiers have to dig through scrap heaps to try to armor their own vehicles:

“I’ve talked a great deal about this with a team of people who have been working hard at the Pentagon… if you think about it, you can have all the armor in the world on a tank and it can blow up…”

Now you can see why I wanted so desperately for this flying monkey to be one of those fleeing the castle this fall. Unbelievable.

The title of this post is from the movie Stripes. When asked by an officer where his sergeant is, Bill Murray’s character says, “Blown Up, Sir.”

Very funny cartoon for those who just love dealing with 3rd world tech support.

I think Bush is (imagine this) telling the truth when he says that our troops will return with honor. But I don’t see how we can substantiate it, if the media aren’t allowed to photograph the return of coffins.

Swift blazing flag of the regiment,

Eagle with crest of red and gold,

These men were born to drill and die.

Point for them the virtue of slaughter,

Make plain to them the excellence of killing

And a field where a thousand corpses lie.

–Stephen Crane, War is Kind