…and the smell of karma.

Are the sins of our forefathers coming back to haunt us? I woke up to read that North Korea is now testing nukes that, according to their plans, would be aimed at the US. From the article:

The North’s National Defense Commission said the moves would feed into an “upcoming all-out action” that would target the United States, “the sworn enemy of the Korean people.”

It’s interesting — and scary — to hypothesize about what might have happened here if August 6th and 9th, 1945 had not happened in Japan. There are many theories — all of which heavily depend upon whom you ask. Many claim we did not know the long-range effects of radiation (debatable), and that it was much more effective using a bomb to end a war than to start one, which the North Koreans seem hellbent on doing today. Others believe that it was the only way to keep Russia under control, as it was crucial to the United States to keep the Soviet army out of the war.

I still wonder, though: was vaporizing millions of innocent non-combatants a “necessary military move” in order to end the war? I covet your opinions.

And while the discussion of nukes is sometimes a volatile issue, and definitely political, there is also the humanitarian side of the debate with regard to the ubiquitous collateral human suffering associated with attacks of any kind — be they with bombs or bayonets. Therefore, *making sign of the cross*, I sanction it for this day.

But since I’m 10 minutes late for the shower and the snowy roads, I must fly. Have a good day, fiends — think on these things.

A school delay, that is. Don’t need it, even thought it seems like everyone else is getting one.

I wonder how many people (staff, not students) go back to bed and sleep for another two hours. Not this gal — ever. Once I’m up, I’m up, unless I’m sick or something, which rarely happens. Delayed schedules always take a toll on the kids, too. People are ever-so-slightly off their pins, and it manifests as listlessness and general apathy. Ain’t nobody got time fuh dat.

No, I say. Let’s get going and have done with it. Off to work! Off to work! Go, you chicken fat, goooooooooooo!

In order of importance:

1. Don’t let one person hijack your emotions and essentially make decisions about how you’re going to live your life.
2. Don’t let one person hijack your emotions and essentially make decisions about how you’re going to live your life.
3. Don’t let one person hijack your emotions and essentially make decisions about how you’re going to live your life.
4. Don’t let one person hijack your emotions and essentially make decisions about how you’re going to live your life.
5. Don’t let one person hijack your emotions and essentially make decisions about how you’re going to live your life.
6. Don’t let one person hijack your emotions and essentially make decisions about how you’re going to live your life.
7. Don’t let one person hijack your emotions and essentially make decisions about how you’re going to live your life.
8. Don’t let one person hijack your emotions and essentially make decisions about how you’re going to live your life.
9. Don’t let one person hijack your emotions and essentially make decisions about how you’re going to live your life.
10. Don’t let one person hijack your emotions and essentially make decisions about how you’re going to live your life.

Which one do you like best?

Happy Finkday!

Random Neuron Firings

*yawn*

So I wasn’t feeling the greatest at school yesterday afternoon. Came on me all-of-a-sudden like, around 11:00. I didn’t think much of it, but by the time high school choir got to my room at noon, I felt like a bag of goo.

Because of a mandatory meeting for students interested in post-secondary options for next year, I was down several troops for rehearsal last night. Then I received a message about two other people going down due to illness, so, against my stubborn nature, and at the stern encouragement of producer Stoney, I canceled rehearsal, came home and went to bed.

The last time I turned off my reading light at 9:00 p.m. and didn’t move until 4:40 a.m.? Hmmm. Long time. Can’t remember. But apparently it was needed, because I only feel half as ooky as I did last night. Score one for the good guys.

And speaking of good guys (not)…if I read another sports writer quoting Ravens players saying, “Win it for Ray,” I’m going to launch something. I don’t care if he didn’t actually do the deed (although the question persists: Where is your white designer suit, Ray? You know — the suit with the blood stains on it that everyone saw? The suit you say you “can’t find?”), he knows something. They all know something, and they owe it to the families of those two dead boys to produce it. We’re not talking about keeping a secret about an indiscretion, or someone saying something horrible about someone else. We’re talking about murder here. We’re talking about people in a limo who distinctly heard Ray say, “Y’all keep your mouths shut. I’m not losing my career this way.”

All right, enough. Not getting started on it, not getting started on it, not getting started on it.

Did you know it is now Thursday? This time yesterday morning, I thought the same thing. HA

Rat Fink, Rat Fink…

And these are thoughts I can barely stomach at 5:30 a.m. I mean, I got ooky watching this. Like, lose-your-appetite ooky.

Watch it all the way through — that is, if you don’t easily get woozed out. Even better: watch it full screen.

Oy………………

So last night at rehearsal, my mouth got ahead of my brain during a difficult passage in the music (that all were instructed to memorize), and I gave into a surge of frustration and annoyance. I accused the cast members of caring about everything in their lives except preparing for this show. It was dead silent in the room, but I’m sure I heard their thoughts: No, I’m just sitting here in your room at 8:30 at night when I could be doing a hundred other things — all because I don’t care about this show.

I’m sure it was spoken loud and clear in their cars on the way home. Nuts. Must rectify that tonight.

J’ever want to bonk yourself on the head for letting the emotions do the talking? Rat Fink, Rat Fink. What a donkey.

Happy Thurgsday, fiends — we’re almost to the weekend.

PS — I know it’s only Wednesday. Well, I didn’t originally. But I do now.