He just sat there, licking his chops, clearly savoring the look of fear on my face and wanting to get maximum mileage out of it before making his next move.
I just want to write something I believe in and believe should be out there in cyberspace someplace. But I’ve realized that publishing in a vacuum is fun for only so long. What I’m saying is that I want to hear from you, gentle reader. There are at least two of you stopping by every hour. I know I have dozens of people tapping my RSS and XML feeds. What draws you here? What keeps you coming back? What resonates with you? Do you have something to add to what I’m saying? I may take your comments to heart, or I may completely ignore you, but at least I’ll have more information than before.
And one by one the rooms here at the co-op are emptying. August 15th is the big day when old leases (and co-op contracts) terminate and new ones begin. I am seeing a lot of moving vans in the neighborhood as students in other buildings begin moving out, soon to be moving in. The hallways on the second and third floor are unusually brightly lit because doors to empty rooms are open, and the sunlight is coming in.
I think the Polyphonic Spree take it a step further. They minimize the idea that they are anything beyond a choral symphonic pop band. But to me it feels they are making a deliberate, revolutionary, and downright subversive act by flooding the room with positive words and positive energy, without irony and without apology.
So when pundits describe Hezbollah as the shock troops for a new worldwide Islamic fascism threat, I say be afraid, be very afraid--of the pundits.
So my co-worker has this frog that says "Ribbit," and then emits this cartoonish, hysterical, and yes, somewhat maniacal laughter that can be heard across the room. I think it just lasts thirty seconds, but it seems a lot longer because it just keeps on going and going and going. Upon hearing this laughter, my first reaction was, "Okay, what kind of mind would conjure up the notion of a frog laughing so hard that it would sound like a screeching monkey?" My second reaction was, "Bartender, I'll have what the amphibian is having."