If mediocrity is one's only option, best do nothing.

Ponder the popping weasel.

Coming home from dinner Friday night I sat at a red light, watching the convo between the skinhead in the vehicle ahead of me and his date. He was speaking in an animated manner, maybe trying a little too hard, and she had sorority girl hair--wondered how on earth these two hooked up. Then I noticed the bumper sticker on his vehicle: 'Join the Army. Travel the world. See exotic places. Meet unusual people, then kill them.' He was driving a Jeep. Irony, anyone?

I can now say I have sat in my pajamas, bowl of oatmeal in hand, watching dawn spreading across quaking Mount St Helens, updated every five minutes, all from in the cozy confines of my studio. The internet and webcams: good shit.