The Local Groceries Are All Out Of

Perhaps The Truth Is That Heavy Literature Blooms In Extremes Of Temperature.

Obama's The Most Thoughtful-sounding President I Can Remember. He Seems To Be Saying What He Wants To Say, And That Is A Great Relief. He Always Sounds Like He's Thinking About What He's Saying While He's Saying It, And That's A Rare Thing In Politicians.

I Just Think Lots Of Words Have Physicality. How About The Word 'wobble?' You Think That's Arbitrary? When You Say The Word 'wince,' You Wince. How About That?

Twiddle-twiddle Away At My Softly Clicky Keyboard For A While, Making Twiddly Adjustments All Along- And Then Print What I Have Twiddled. Glare At The Printout And Snarl And Curse And Scribble Almost Illegibly All Over It With A Ballpoint Pen. Go Back To The Machine And Enter The Scribbles. Repeat This Procedure Until I Hate The Very Meaning Of Every Word I Know.

A Dog Will Make Eye Contact. A Cat Will, Too, But A Cat's Eyes Don't Even Look Entirely Warm-blooded To Me, Whereas A Dog's Eyes Look Human Except Less Guarded. A Dog Will Look At You As If To Say, "what Do You Want Me To Do For You? I'll Do Anything For You." Whether A Dog Can In Fact, Do Anything For You If You Don't Have Sheep (i Never Have) Is Another Matter. The Dog Is Willing.