[image:3943:l][image:3953:l][newline]So much to write about — where to begin?

I’d write about old Ken Lay avoiding sentencing, but there are a lot of folks writing in their weblogs to the tune of “Ding Dong the Witch is Dead.” By the way, how much of a scumbag do you have to be for NPR to be getting quotes amounting to “Even before Enron, a lot of people quit companies he ran because of his lack of ethics?”

Seems to me that usually the old mainstream media, even the quasi-leftie, intellectual branch, tries to get the obit tie in of some kind of redemptive action. The sort of “Sure, he was a bastard ruler/war-monger/businessman/what-have-you, but the trains ran on time or he helped old ladies across the street or hugged puppies or some wonderful thing. When Nixon and Reagan died, people fell over themselves to talk about China and the Berlin Wall and lovely stuff. You know, forget that pesky Vietnam, Iran/Contra, Bitburg ugliness.

Not Kenny man, nope. For him he mugged middle America and that’s about that.

Then, there’s July 4. My pics above were from Santa Clara, USA. It’s a far cry from the Esplanade in Boston, where I guess I missed Steven Tyler and Joe Perry, but they were pretty damn good. The finale was crazy busy with an outrageousness of sheer volume.

Other than that, we cooked out, ate all day and got our American feedbag on. Sweet. (Oh, and I’ll have to remember to write about fetishes and dating and all sorts of neato shit that summed up makes me smile at the things me and the boy-o have going for us.)

Last thing, I finall ordered by our friendly neighborhood Apple engineer, this here sweet, mother-fucking laptop.[newline]

My Powerbook is a slowly dying and with the old Cambridge homestead about to be listed on the free, capitalistic market of real estate sales, I’m looking to gear up for being a thousandaire.

Let me know if you’re looking for a fixer upper two-bedroom condo a safe walk to the trade school on the other side of town from Harvard.