The other night The Lotus dreamt that I'd phoned her from the Maritimes and told her that I was never coming back, so she'd better rent a U-Haul and motor the fuck over. Except I don't think I swore in my dream. I never curse in dreams, whether it's my own or somebody else's. If you catch me cursing or exposing myself in one of your dreams, please drop me a note. Include in the note: the night of the dream, the context of the objectionable word or action, and our respective outfits. Chances are we were both in some kind of dreamland Pervert Military, with lusty swearing and flashing being part of parade drill.

I'm a little tired right now, so this phrase is running through my head: I Am Enjoying the Fruits of Internet Access. It runs repeatedly, like the chugging of a train: I Am Enjoying the Fruits of Internet Access.

With all these disjointed sentences and non sequiturs, my website is starting to take on the taste of a book by Jewel. In all seriousness, skip A Night Without Armor and move straight to the one with her riding a horse on the cover. I think it's called Chasing Down the Dawn. All she's chasing, from page one, is a coherent paragraph, and she's still puffing away unsuccessfully at the end. At least flip through it when next you visit a Megalobookmart-Indigo.

Today we held a brief morning interview with an offshore petroleum bureaucrat in St. John's and then flew down to Halifax. I had the great privilege of spending two hours in the air taking notes on an air disaster. Ugh. I hate being hurled through the air in a closed system. You can't pull over and check the engine if something goes wrong. In Halifax it rained. It's still raining. It rained so hard that we retreated into a movie theatre and watched the latest and last Matrix movie, which is mostly rain on the surface and fire beneath. I have a feeling that the Wachowski brothers are actually frustrated meteorologists who wanted to make a towering techno-mythical trilogy about lousy weather. The weather sucks so badly in The Matrix (or Matrices, or whatever) that the only free humans on Earth have chosen to live underground instead of deal with the constant cloud cover. You know that the imprisoned humans jacked into a virtual dream of freedom have it badly because their little pods are completely exposed to the weather. And even in their neural net simulation of the world, it's still raining. For the people of Zion, it's no coincidence that the major threat comes from above. When you feel water dropping on your face, that's when you know you're a slave. But why is it that no one ever comments on the weather in The Matrix? You'd think that in the midst of their portentous chatting about fate and love and determinism, someone would pause and say, "Goddamn lightning".

parode - exode