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It's a fine line between living for the moment and being a sociopath.

Patricia B McConnell: For The Love Of A Dog.

Pema Chodron: The Places That Scare You

Daniel Wallace: Mr Sebastian & the Negro Magician

All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are. --Pablo Neruda

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

First in a while, but not sure about continuing

I used to read Harper's Weekly Review -- a sardonic newsletter of current events -- the minute it hit my in-box. Then, as I got busier and busier at work, and the tone of world events became overwhelmingly negative with the Bush bulldozer plowing all optimism in its path, I started letting Harper's lie fallow for longer and longer periods. It often succumbed to auto-archiving before I got around to opening it.

Eventually, I stopped reading it altogether. Some combination of too busy and too depressed got the better of my loyalty.

For I-don't-know-what reason, today, for the first time in a months, I opened the most recent issue up when it landed in the in-box. And it immediately remineded me both why I'd stopped reading it, and why I loved it in the first place.

The bad:

The Environmental Protection Agency announced that the value of an American's "statistical life" was $6.9 million, $1 million less than 5 years ago. Republican strategist Karl Rove ignored a subpoena to testify before the House Judiciary Committee, citing "executive privilege," ... President George W. Bush met with other world leaders at the G8 summit to discuss climate change. "Goodbye," he said as he left, grinning and punching the air, "from the world's biggest polluter."

And the good:

A British teenager who assumed that tremors in her bosom were caused by her vibrating mobile phone found a baby bat nestling in the padding of her 34FF bra.

I'm wavering.


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