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12 March 1997
(More or Less) The Same
I've gone back in time from next Saturday night to tell what's going to happen in the near future. My hard drive is going to die a violent unresurrectable death, and all the work I've done in the previous ten days will be permanently lost. (I think it's obvious that this will happen literally minutes before I am about to back everything up.)

I was able to recreate most of what I've done, but I did lose a piece made with my digital camera--to start with, at least--of a tractor called "Same." (I don't spend much time on the farm, so I'm not sure whether that's a popular model.)

I'll make more or less the same image again, and in the interim have replaced it with another image that's more or less the same.

13 March 1997
My Money Goes Far
Some hoser on the radio says I need to make my money work for me. What he obviously means is that my money should work for him. My money does just fine already, thank you very much.

Some of it went to the Netherlands and Scotland and brought back some good cheese and oat cakes for an afternoon snack. Later some other money went to Italy, Greece, Spain, France and came home with pasta, olives, tomatoes and wine for tonight's dinner. And late this evening, my money went to Lawrenceburg, Kentucky and returned with a liter of 101 proof bourbon.

My money goes far for me; I hate to see it go.

14 March 1997
What a Dish!
Mrs. Brown had a daughter
Her daughter was a fish
Mrs. Brown had a daughter
I wish!

Mrs. Brown had a daughter
Her daughter was a fish
Mrs. Brown had a daughter
I wish!

Mrs. Brown had a daughter
Her daughter was a fish
Mrs. Brown had a daughter
I wish!

Mrs. Brown had a daughter
Her daughter was a fish
Mrs. Brown had a daughter
I wish!

(repeats endlessly)

Mrs. Brown had a daughter
Her daughter was a fish
Mrs. Brown had a daughter
What a dish!

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15 March 1997
Beaten By Computers
I read a newspaper report that claimed American military scientists are working on a secret "fire ants," small solar-powered mechanical devices the size of real ants that will crawl into enemy computers then explode.

Blam!

It seems that once again American military scientists are wasting time and money: why develop a high-tech weapon to destroy computers when computers self-destruct with such regularity? As I went back in time to announce, tonight my four gigabyte hard drive died a grinding mechanical death; I don't think any foreign governments were involved. No trace of fire ants can be found in my small computer graveyard where I have a dead notebook computer, two lifeless monitors and a gigabyte cartridge that refuses to store a bit of data.

I have never been physically violent with a mammal since I was nine, when I won my last fight by sitting on my stout opponent until he agreed to stop fighting. Physical violence is all machines understand, so I flailed on my failing hard drive until my knuckle started to bleed.

Nothing worked, nothing works.

16 March 1997
Skin Leaks
I saw a man whose skin looked like it was wearing thin in places, as if it might fail to do its job and let some of his insides leak out. Sheik Abdel Aziz idn Baz, Saudi Arabia's highest religious authority, has decreed "eyes and ears are not orifices." I suppose skin is really only as good as the integrity of its orifices.

17 March 1997
Invisible Can Opener
I spent at least five minutes--probably more like ten--looking for the can opener. I knew it hadn't gone far, can openers never do. I finally found it where I thought I'd find it: right in front of me. I hadn't seen it the other umpteen times I'd looked at it because I was looking for a flat object; this time the can opener was leaning on its handle propped up vertically on the counter.

It seems like one of those hoary cautionary tales, but I wonder how many other things I haven't seen or found because they were slightly different than I was looking for or expecting them to be?

18 March 1997
Gala Snares Muse
"Neural massages" is an anagram of "useless anagram."

It is a slow day.

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©1997 David Glenn Rinehart