The sky was crowded with desperate, schizophrentic rain clouds this morning. Aching to yield some moisture, they seemed determined to hold on to their unborn precipitation. This was all rent from the sky by the dawn, the sun tearing neat little holes in the backdrop where photons of previously existing people streamed into our atmosphere, setting the oxygen and nitrogen ablaze.

Actually, the sunlight was merely defracting through the horrible pre-dawn dust/haze/smog...yuck.

Blogging it seems has supplanted masturbation, social drinking, cable TV and illegitmate sex.

Where is Jag when I need a good, socially-depraved rant on everything that is both right and wrong with everything right and wrong?

There is a small rabbit in my garden. Only I have seen him. He has only seen me. He sits quietly and without effort beneath the southern edge of my apple tree. He does not move, yet there he is. He does not eat, yet he is alive. He does not smile, yet he makes me smile. He seems calm, and not rushed. He is the source of the shibumi in the garden. He is the Zen Bunny...