the nature of the universe
Having been a sci fi fan for the past sixty years (since I began to read), I can't always remember where I read or saw various speculations. But this one comes to mind today -- I'm not sure why except maybe it has something to do with going around in circles.
I remember reading a story -- or maybe it was an old Twilight Zone episode -- wherein a scientist used a very powerful microscope to keep looking deeper and deeper into the smallest pariticles of matter. What he ultimately saw is his own eye looking back.
There's also the idea that this planet is some sort of simulation game for some other much more powerful and intelligent species. "Let's see what they'll do when we......make a devastating rash of earthquakes and hurricanes....put the greatest country on the planet into the clutches of idiots...... " etc. etc.
The latter is what came to mind when I heard a news report on television that described this scenario:
The auto industry, to save on fuel consumption, devises hybrid vehicles which consume much less gasoline. The gasoline tax goes to fix roads. So, the goverment is proposing a tax on hybrid vehicles because their owners won't be paying their fair share to fix the roads. Read about it all here.
I feel like we're in a Peter Sellers movie. Dr. Strangelove rides again.
Categories:
still playing the numbers game
I keep getting comments on a post I a couple of years ago about seeing the number 11 in various ways, most 11:11.
Last night, this comment was left on that post:
I am going to tell to all of you you something that I think no one has discovered ,because I never heard about that.....
In the alphabet with the numbers is like that A=1 B=2 and so on.
N = 14.......Y = 25
E = 5 ........O = 15
W = 23......R = 18
............ ....K = 11
Total 42 + 69 = 111
New York =111 !!!
There are now 123 comments that were left on that post. I don't know what that means except that numbers are significant.
Categories:
more than leftovers
Packed up the Thanksgiving leftovers, packed up my mom and a Power Team Fire Fighter (equipped with oxygen tank and mask, fire plug and hose, hat with goggles, and other assorted accoutrements) and drove out to visit my grandson -- and his mom and dad, of course.
Firefighter Dave (as the action figure was named after the main character my grandson's currently favorite video) was a big hit. As was the megaphone-style voice changer. Well, that was a big hit with my grandson. I'm not so sure about his parents, who are left to listen to his growing repetoire of loud noises.
My mom was a big hit too. I'm always amazed at how my grandson takes to her. Although I shouldn't be. They are both at about the 3 1/2 year level. Traveling with my mom is very much like traveling with a toddler. I have to do the packing, make sure I take food in the car and make potty stops, help her in and out of the car, and listen to idle chatter for the whole trip.
But it was all worth it just to have a chance to play with my grandson and hug my daughter. My mom and I even stayed overnight in a little motel, and that all worked out better than I thought it would.
And what's Thanksgiving without also sharing leftovers, right?
And speaking of leftovers, the accumulated stuff on this site is all being redesigned at this very moment so that my more elderly readers (and there are more and more of them) will find it easier on the eyes.
This current design is a Moveable Type stylesheet, which looks great in theory but is not that easy for everyone to read -- not just because of the small typeface, but also the colors.
By the way, for those of you who have trouble reading weblogs and websites. If you have a mouse with a wheel, when you go to some sites, like Google, if you hold down the Control key and turn the wheel, you can change the size of the type on the page. That also works on some weblogs, like Time Goes By, and you will be able to do that with my new design as well. It doesn't work on blogs like Stu Savory's, and maybe he should figure out how to include that capacity.
The Internet is still the land of the young bright and clear-eyed. But there are more and more of us older folks who are finding our own places on it. Weblog and website designers would do well to keep that in mind.
After all, we ARE so much more than leftovers, whether they've realized it yet or not.
So b!X is working with me to figure out how to make reading this blog a pleasure -- at least visually if not re content.
Categories:
how to avoid family arguments at the Thanksgiving dinner table
rent a movie and eat in front of the television.
works for me.
Categories:
a day of thanks
There will only be the three at the table today. But I'm cooking that big meal anyway. And I'm thinking of this story -- which might or might not be true. It doesn't matter. I thank my ol' college chum Jim for sending it my way.
Twenty years ago, he drove a cab for a living.
When he arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away.
But, he had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, he always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, he reasoned to himself.
So he walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute", answered a frail, elderly voice. He could hear something being dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80s stood before him. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie.
By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.
There were no clocks on the walls, no knicknacks or utensils on the counters.
In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she asked. He took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.
She took his arm and they walked slowly toward the curb.
She kept thanking him for his kindness.
"It's nothing", he told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated".
"Oh, you're such a good boy," she said.
When they got in the cab, she gave him an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"
"It's not the shortest way," he answered quickly.
"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".
He looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. "I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."
He quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" he asked.
For the next two hours, they drove through the city. She showed him the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.
They drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had him pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a
girl.
Sometimes she'd ask him to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."
They drove in silence to the address she had given him. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home,with a driveway that passed under a portico.
The two orderlies who immediately came out to the cab were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.
He opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.
"Nothing," he said.
"You have to make a living," she answered.
"There are other passengers," he responded.
Almost without thinking, he bent and gave her a hug. She held onto him tightly.
"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."
He squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light.
Behind him, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.
He didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. He drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day.
What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift?
What if he had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, he didn't think that he had done anything more important in his life.
We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.
But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID, ~BUT ~ THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL! .
Happy Thanksgiving.
Categories:
another theory of intelligent design
Hey, why not
Let us remember that there are multiple theories of Intelligent Design. I and many others around the world are of the strong belief that the universe was created by a Flying Spaghetti Monster. It was He who created all that we see and all that we feel. We feel strongly that the overwhelming scientific evidence pointing towards evolutionary processes is nothing but a coincidence, put in place by Him.
[snip]
We will of course be able to train the teachers in this alternate theory. I am eagerly awaiting your response, and hope dearly that no legal action will need to be taken. I think we can all look forward to the time when these three theories are given equal time in our science classrooms across the country, and eventually the world; One third time for Intelligent Design, one third time for Flying Spaghetti Monsterism, and one third time for logical conjecture based on overwhelming observable evidence.
Read the whole hilariously pointed explanation (including graph of how global warming is related to the decrease in pirates) at http://venganza.org/
(Thanks to non-blogger myrln for the link.)
Categories:
seeing the I Ching
all things flow toward water
wood grows upward
The above quotes are from reflections on I Ching hexagrams that were posted alongside photographs in a museum exhibition I went over to see on it's last day.
Originating in New Mexico,
The idea for this project came from the text of the I Ching, where each hexagram and individual lines making up the hexagram represents different natural phenomena. The words of the hexagram evoke an image in the natural world. Russek and Scheinbaum made images that are visual interpretation, using the natural world as metaphor. Their photographs are not literal interpretations of the ideas, but rather, after careful study of the hexagram and its component parts, the photographs hold the spirit of the overall meaning, the emotional essence. Among the I Ching’s remarkable qualities is its capacity to speak universally through lyrical allegories of the natural and human worlds.
There's one other quote that I remember, and it just seems such an appropriate reminder for me.
upward movement is not accomplished through agitation but with humility, flexibility, and grace.
Onward and upward.
Categories:
something for the bible-belchers
[snip]
The new exhibition called "Darwin" at the American Museum of Natural History portrays the making of the man and the scientist, and it reminds us how well and how fully evolution explains the life around us. It also captures the way Darwin's theory opened an entirely new window in the human imagination.
[snip]
Darwin presented the strongest, most detailed argument and evidence for evolution that he could. He also carefully presented the strongest objections to his theory that he could. Under a century and a half of close examination, his theory has grown more and more solid - with refinements, of course. Under the kind of scrutiny that Darwin bestowed on himself, the notion of intelligent design vanishes in a puff of smoke like the bunkum it is.
"I do not attack Moses," Darwin once wrote, "and I think Moses can take care of himself." But the problem is not Moses, or Jesus or God. It is humanity itself. To the extent that the furor over evolution represents a cultural crisis in America - and only in America - it is a crisis of credulity, not faith, a crisis rooted in neglect and ignorance.
Perhaps seeing would be believing.
Read the entire editorial in the NY Times.
Categories:
Murtha and Moore
Bush attacks Murtha and Moore.
That's Michael Moore, of course, who, of course, responds.
Categories:
nesting
I moved into this space several months ago, but I'm still making it my own -- putting up lots of mirrors to make it seem brighter, hanging colorful glass "rooting vases" on the walls and filling them with cuttings from my various new plants. Yesterday, I hung a "Lady of Nine Heavens" Bagua on the door into my space.
There are lots of reasons for this particular choice -- the connection to an ancient goddess mythology, the hints of protection "magic," the bright colors, the integration of various aspects of "Feng Shui."
I mean, I do have, hanging on various other walls, my witches' broom (which I bought), my prayer stick (which I made), my Akuaba icon (given to my by my son), a willow-bordered protection shield (woven for me by members of a therapy group I was in many years ago), a small sheaf of wheat tied with a red ribbon (bought at a Polish cultural festival), and a powerful quilted wall hanging made for me by a good friend.
I guess "nesting," for me, means surrounding myself with those things that bring good energy into my space, my life. Things with meaning and their own kind of magic.
Here's hoping bagua magic works.
Maybe I should have just hung up a big garland of garlic. Heh.
Categories:
it's catalog season again
I get 'em by the dozens. Every day. Home furnishings. Clothes. Kids stuff. Chocolates. Cheeses. It happens every year about this time, a month before the winter holidays.
What a waste of paper. But I remind myself that -- even though I don't buy anything -- every catalog I get helps to keep mail carriers employed. E-mail has really cut down on the amount of personal mail that gets sent out. So it's those bulk mailings that keep them carrying.
Actually, I did get one catalog that I enjoyed looking at: Femail Creations.
I mean, this one got a chuckle and nod from me.
Heh.
This is my favorite, although I wouldn't mind having one of these either.
And, boy do I know someone I'd like to buy this for, but I don't think he'd appreciate it.
And then there's this one that caught my eye, because it's my mother's philosophy and I wish it were mine:
And, finallly this. Sigh.
Did you know that, at this moment, there are exactly 53581 moments left until Christmas.
If you need any catalogs, let me know.
Categories:
these will never be the good ol' days
On top of all the conniving and confusion and compartmentalization going on in America today, on top of all of that, according to an Op Ed piece in today's NY Times,
....Fearful of future terrorist attacks and frustrated by the slow progress of intelligence-gathering from prisoners at Guantánamo Bay, Pentagon officials turned to the closest thing on their organizational charts to a school for torture. That was a classified program at Fort Bragg, N.C., known as SERE, for Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape. Based on studies of North Korean and Vietnamese efforts to break American prisoners, SERE was intended to train American soldiers to resist the abuse they might face in enemy custody.
The Pentagon appears to have flipped SERE's teachings on their head, mining the program not for resistance techniques but for interrogation methods. ....
So there we are, doing unto others what we once condemned because they were doing it to us.
Now that I am an "older" person, I'm beginning to understand why old people long for the "good ol' days" -- the innocent fifties, the patriotic forties. At least then we were the good guys. The rest of the world looked up to us in various degrees of respect. Our American regime has turned into what we most despised in other regimes.
Maybe all those Cole Porter tunes made me feel nostalgic. And now I'm listening to CD of wacky songs from the forties, like Mairzy Doats and Manana by Peggy Lee, and I'm my Own Grandpa by Guy Lombardo, and the Woody Woodpecker song by Mel Blanc and the Sportsmen.
Silly songs for a world of children now beyond disillusionment.
Rag Mop
Ames Brothers
M
I say M-O
M-O-P
M-O-P-P
Mop
M-O-P-P
Mop Mop Mop Mop
R
I say R-A
R-A-G
R-A-G-G
Rag
R-A-G-G M-O-P-P
Rag Mop
Doo-doo-doo-DAH-dee-ah-dah
Rag Mop
Doo-doo-doo-DAH-dee-ah-dah
Rag Mop
Doo-doo-doo-DAH-dee-ah-dah
Rag Mop
Doo-doo-doo-DAH-dee-ah-dah
Rag Mop
Doo-doo-doo-DAH-dee-ah-dah
R-A-G-G M-O-P-P
Rag Mop!
A
I say A-B
A-B-C
A-B-C-D
A-B-C-D-E
A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H
I
I say M-O
M-O-P
M-O-P-P
Mop
M-O-P-P
Mop Mop Mop Mop
R
I say R-A
R-A-G
R-A-G-G
Rag
R-A-G-G M-O-P-P
Rag Mop
Doo-doo-doo-DAH-dee-ah-dah
Rag Mop
Doo-doo-doo-DAH-dee-ah-dah
Rag Mop
Doo-doo-doo-DAH-dee-ah-dah
Rag Mop
Doo-doo-doo-DAH-dee-ah-dah
Rag Mop
Doo-doo-doo-DAH-dee-ah-dah
R-A-G-G M-O-P-P
Rag Mop
Categories:
nip, tuck, tango, and Cary Grant
catching the repeat of Nip/Tuck with the steamy milonga scene with Joely Richardson and Bruno Campos and remembering being able to do some of those steps but not having anyone like Campos to do them with, which was sad because the tango is not just a dance, it's a seduction, and if the chemistry's not there you might as well be doing a square dance.
Night and Day on pay-per-view, watched with mom, who is entranced by Cole Porter's music, while I think about kissing Cary Grant good night 'cause he was a much nicer (altho' much more fictitious) Cole Porter than Kevin Kline was in DeLovely.
Fact and fiction aside, "Night and Day" is a movie with fantastic dance numbers interpreting Porter's songs through modern dance, ballet, tap, Latin, and just about any other kind of dancing there is. Imagine Eve Arden with a French accent, Monty Woolley playing himself. I didn't even recognize the very young Dorothy Malone and Jane Wyman, but I had no trouble recognizing the young Mary Martin, who played herself. No mistaking that smile, those eyes.
Whether it's 1936 or 1946 or 2006 (well, almost), it's all about passion, isn't it?
Categories:
Happy Exploding Whale Day!
I think I remember when this happened. At least I remember reading about it before. There's a great video on the site as whale blubber flies as much as a quarter of a mile, one big chunk even smashing a car.
Categories:
It's all moving on without me.
I used to one of them, those signed up on the blogroll over here. Or at least I used to try to one of them -- that core of early-on bloggers who know how to mix up a batch of blogs that always mean more than what they first seem. They're still mixing, but I'm not in it any more, not even on the fringes.
It's all moving on without me. They're all moving on without me. My grandson, my friends. Heh. I move away and now four of my five women friends from where I used to live are in relationships with really cool guys.
I'm stuck in time. Stuck in space. Marking time. Marking time with days filled with chores that get me no where but where I was the day before.
today she wants her keys. the keys with the little flashlight. you know that she hasn't had that key ring for years, and she doesn't need keys where she is now. she's totally distraught over keys that wouldn't open any doors in her life now anyway. where is her home she wants to know. where are her keys. you give her a key ring with a key, but she knows it's not what she's looking for. she is looking for a life that has moved on and left her behind. each day, she falls a little more behind. each day you try to help her hold onto that day. each of your days is given over to her, as everything else moves on without you.
One of the good things about having a public blog that gets picked up by Google is that all kinds of interesting people find me. So, even though my very first batch of blogger friends are moving on without me, there are other bloggers who are traveling closer to my circle.
One of these is Dalene, who also lives out in the middle of the woods, somewhere. Except for her being a cancer survivor and me, luckily, never having to have dealt with that horrible disease, we have a lot in common, including looking for natural remedies for various conditions. She maintains a separate weblog, Rutabaga Stew, where she shares the information she's discovered.
She has a great recipe for Sweet Potato Pie, which I'm just going to have to try, since I love sweet potatoes and pecans.
She also has some interesting information about the health benefits of cabbage and saurkraut.
As an individual of full-blooded Polish heritage, I come from a family that ate lots of cabbage and saurkraut. Not too long ago, I improvised a really good recipe for cabbage/saurkraut soup that's easy to throw together. And the longer you cook it, the better it tastes. It tastes even better than that when you reheat it the next day. It also freezes well, so I make a giant pot of it.
So, Darlene, here's my recipe that needs a large stock pot to hold all of the ingredients:
1 pound of saurkraut (from a can or bag)
1 bag of cole slaw (the kind you find in the packaged salad section that's just shredded cabbages and carrots)
a pound can of low-salt tomatoes (I use diced)
a couple of cloves of smashed garlic
-- empty the saurkraut into a colander and let the juice drain out
-- put the saurkraut and shedded cabbage from the bag in the biggest pot you have
-- add the tomatoes
-- add two cans of low salt chicken broth or vegetable broth (each will give a different under-flavor; I prefer the chicken, but if you're a vegetarian you'll have to go with the other)
-- pour in enough water to reach a half- inch above the the top of what's already in the pot
Bring to a boil and let simmer for as long as you can, but at least two hours. Stir occasionally. During the first hour, chop up three onions and saute in oil or butter or margarine or any combination thereof. (If you like onions, you can even use more.) When the onions are transluscent, add the onions to the soup and continue to cook. You can add water if it looks like the soup is getting too thick.
options: You can peel and cut up potatoes and throw them in with the soup at the outset OR you can mash potatoes (with or without sour cream) and add these to the soup during the last few minutes. You can also provide sour cream to add to each bowl just before you serve.
Another option is to add some pork and cook it along with the soup. Or cook some kielbasa separately, cut it up in bite sized pieces and add it to the soup during the last half-hour of cooking.
Great with Russian Horseradish Bread, which you make like garlic bread, only you use slices of rye bread that you spread with a little butter or margarine and then with white horseradish (from a jar) and then warm in the oven just as you would garlic bread.
Make lots and freeze.
So, Dalene, there's my favorite saurkraut recipe.
Categories:
baaa, baaa, BAH!
So, teach kids to never question authority and to stand in awe of anyone in uniform or who claims he/she wears a uniform; train employees to follow the rules and always obey their managers or be fired; encourage girls not to be assertive or trust their own judgement but to follow what their elders tell them.
And then this is what you get, as reported on ABC's Primetime. --
BAH!
And still the supposed shepherds feed their sheep this shit.
Religious broadcaster Pat Robertson warned residents of a rural Pennsylvania town Thursday that disaster may strike there because they "voted God out of your city" by ousting school board members who favored teaching intelligent design.
All eight Dover, Pa., school board members up for re-election were defeated Tuesday after trying to introduce "intelligent design" - the belief that the universe is so complex that it must have been created by a higher power - as an alternative to the theory of evolution.
"I'd like to say to the good citizens of Dover: If there is a disaster in your area, don't turn to God. You just rejected him from your city,"
Welcome to Bush country.
ADDENDUM (also via myrln)
Rest assured Pat Robertson's favorite book is the Old Testament, all that smiting, smoting, firing, drowning right up his god's alley.
You know, if the god that Pat and his ilk worship were human, he'd have been long ago jailed and executed for homicide, infanticide, genocide, and other sociopathic behavior.
Categories:
I used to have a bible belt, but it got too small for me.
That's a quote from my non-blogger friend myrln.
Then there's:
"All we are is dust in the wind."
- Kansas
"Gravity isn't real and dinosaurs are dragons from Hell."
- The Other Kansas
The above are from Randi Rhodes of Air America.
So, the Kansas Board of Education is revising their Science education standards and improperly injecting religion into biology classrooms. But supporters of the new standards said they were simply trying to open the curriculum, and students' minds, to alternative viewpoints.
To quote Rhodes, again:
"Kansas, preparing young minds for the high tech jobs of 1652."
What is going on in this country?
And then there's the IRS harassing a church for the sin of insinuating that Jesus was a man of peace. According to an article in the L.A. Times,
In his sermon, Regas, who from the pulpit opposed both the Vietnam War and 1991's Gulf War, imagined Jesus participating in a political debate with then-candidates George W. Bush and John Kerry. Regas said that "good people of profound faith" could vote for either man, and did not tell parishioners whom to support.
But he criticized the war in Iraq, saying that Jesus would have told Bush, "Mr. President, your doctrine of preemptive war is a failed doctrine. Forcibly changing the regime of an enemy that posed no imminent threat has led to disaster."
On June 9, the church received a letter from the IRS stating that "a reasonable belief exists that you may not be tax-exempt as a church … " The federal tax code prohibits tax-exempt organizations, including churches, from intervening in political campaigns and elections.
And just to get a little more Bush-bashing in, according to The Nation:
President Bush and the current administration have borrowed more money from foreign governments and banks than the previous 42 presidents combined, a group of conservative to moderate Democrats said Friday..... According to the Treasury Department, from 1776-2000, the first 224 years of U.S. history, 42 U.S. presidents borrowed a combined $1.01 trillion from foreign governments and financial institutions, but in the past four years alone, the Bush administration borrowed $1.05 trillion.
I still maintain (I've blogged about it before) that Bush, with his evil minions, is the Anti-Christ, misleading his followers to believe that his is doing good, while he is actually leading the world into a disaster of major proportions.
Among those who understand that the Antichrists of whom John was writing are instead a single individual and expect this one to arise in the future, there is a general consensus that sometime prior to the expected return of Jesus, there will be a period of "trials and tribulations" during which the Antichrist, inspired by Satan, will attempt to win supporters, and will silence anyone or make enemies of any country that refuses to approve of him. This metaphor is written as "receive his mark".
[snip]
The most common interpretations continue to be that the Antichrist will be some sort of high-ranking political leader, who will initially do very good, popular things, which will win him many followers. In the end, however he is supposed to get increasingly totalitarian and elicit more and more sacrifices from his followers until eventually his evil ways become known, and the era of "trials and tribulations" begins.
OK. I don't really believe in the Bible-belchers literal interpretations of either the creation or the anti-christ. But I do think that those concepts are powerful metaphors, and as often as not, metaphors are where the truth lies.
I live in the middle of a forest of trees that turn golden in autumn. Until yesterday, when a hard wind and rain ripped the last of the leaves from the old trees, the very air shimmered in the sun. Now, with all of that yellow gone, I can notice a few small struggling maples that have somehow managed to put down roots. And even some scraggly pines that keep trying to compete with those determined oaks.
How often it happens we can't see the forest for the trees. Sometimes it takes a harsh and brutal wind to clear the air.
Categories:
ladybugs are bugging me
They flock to building walls that are warm in the autumn sun.
They ride indoors on my clothes, in my hair. They're looking to settle in somewhere for winter. They're already getting lethargic, like the houseflies caught between your windows.
Generally, I like ladybugs. They're good for gardens. But this time of year, they're a nuisance as they try to migrate indoors.
I try to catch them in cups and release them to back into the world where they belong. They say it's bad luck to kill a ladybug, even when they're taking over your farmhouse.
I don't need any more bad luck.
Ladybug ladybug fly away home,
Your house in on fire and your children are gone,
All except one and that's little Ann,
For she crept under the frying pan.
[Oh damn! I just accidentally killed one while trying to get it to crawl into a spoon. So much for luck.]
Categories:
