It has been a nice, cloudy day in Utahland. We had a skitch of rain, but of course that's all. It is time for some serious Irish cleaning, since, as usual, my place is exceedingly unkempt. Fuck that. They are playing some great stuff on BBC 6Music as of late.

I note how many times I mention cleaning. If there is a just God, my eternal punishment will be to clean Hell's Kitchen with a stick.

"Don't let us be 'misologues,' hating argument as misanthropes hate men; the worst disease one can have is to hate arguments. Misology and misanthropy come in the same way. Misantrhopy is put on from believing someone too completely without discrimination, and thinking the man to be speaking the truth wholly and wholesomely, and then finding out soon afterwards that he is bad and untrustworthy and quite different; when this happens often to a man, especially from those he thought to be his closest and truest friends, at last, after so many knocks, he hates everybody, and believes there is no soundness in anyone at all." (Plato, Phaidon)

OK, dear reader, a lot has been weighing on my mind lately. Basically it is more friends in distress. Since my strange online journal is no soap opera, I shall provide niggling details. Break up. Break up. Faux religious conversion. Religious conversion. Change. Barren.

My life is rather orderly, aside from a strange ear ache. Have I told you I have had no anti-biotics since I was 6?

Tif is going to visit Mary. I felt a slight ping at that. Silly. She contacts me not. Of course Tif said that she rarely gets emails from her either. Rarely? How about never.