• I’m listening to the Beach Boys right at this very moment. Check my Last.fm page for more detailed information. I plan to follow Pet Sounds up with Brian Wilson’s SMiLE, though I might break down and find some more recent music first.
• The US government should split into divisions and IPO each one. You know, make it splashy. Why not? If America really values wealth more than anything else, should not those with the most wealth be able to participate more fully in the government?
• I had a hard time getting to sleep last night and then woke up early this morning. Not a good combination. Needs coffee.
• Why is it that when people see a problem with an obvious solution, they decide not to enact that obvious solution? I mean… I just don’t get it.
• Boston Legal is a pretty awesome show. David E. Kelley is a pretty awesome creator of shows.
• I’m especially boring today. That’s it, folks!

Later:

• As it turns out, my cousin Bethany has had a baby girl, and named her Mackenzie (not sure of the spelling!) Hope. Congratulations!
• I’m listening to Bob Dylan’s The Times They Are A-Changin’ now. I sense a disturbing trend here.

You can tell the spiritual from the non-spiritual merely by the titles of their blogs. Did you know this? It’s true. If, for instance, your blog’s URI doesn’t contain a portion of scripture, such as “thelordhasstretchedouthishandoverthesea.randombloghost.com” or “theirbodieswilllieinthestreetofthegreatcity.differentbloghost.com” you can be sure that your blog isn’t quite up to snuff. What sort of statement does “Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key” make to the visitors of your blog? Not a good one, that’s for sure. This is why, very soon, I will be renaming my blog “rmfo-blogs.com/gotaketoyourselfanadulterouswife”. Yes, very soon shall it be done thus.

• It turns out that I’m liberal. Like, really liberal. Shocking, though, as I’d become used to the word “liberal” as a pejorative, thanks to most of the people I know. On the other hand, I absolutely am not a Liberal Party supporter, especially now that Stéphane Dion is leading that motley pack. But who does that leave me to vote for? Certainly never the NDP: I may be liberal, but I’m not a union shill, and I’m not a communist. The Tories are alright, if you like the West, which I mostly do not. The Libertarian party is weak to the point of comic relief. The Green party is a viable candidate, as always, but it’s also weak. As for the Christian parties, the day I vote for a Christian political party will be the day I hand in my membership card in the, you know, Kingdom of God (the one that isn’t organised around political solutions to moral problems, and certainly doesn’t go for an official mix of church and state).
• I had a strange dream last night. Laura had been kidnapped, and I had been given a series of clues to her whereabouts: I remember driving frantically around the city, trying to find her, when the van (yes, the van) I had commandeered was hijacked by a tiny thug wearing a ski mask, holding an Uzi. Normally, I might have drawn some relevant size-related conclusions, but this was, after all, a dream. Turns out that Laura was the one in the ski mask, and it was all a huge joke. Heh. Good one. After that, it got even weirder, but I’ll save that narrative for a more appropriate place (like my extremely porous memory).
• Steve and Jo just had a baby boy. They have named him Isaac, because Sarah laughed at God, and that’s a great thing to memorialise. I agree.
• I’m sick of a society that breeds women to be uptight, moralistic feministas. What ever happened to women being pirate wenches? Who told us men that the woman should be the one controlling the remote (in my vernacular a much better variation on “wearing the pants”)? That’s right: when I want a tankard of ale, I’ll have me a tankard of ale, and she’ll be wearing saucy pantaloons and a corset possibly made out of the bones of my victims. I’m not really sure of that one. But let us men raise the battle cry: bring back the wenches!
• I’m going to spray some Axe in my office. Lisa will soon be over to flog me with a cat-o-nines for giving her a headache.