Read My Lips - the blog

Graspin' for straws in the midst of a whirlpool

Just as I was gettin' ready to post my report last eve, I found that my thin tether to the world had become disengaged. In other words, the phone lines were dead. Such seems to be the culmination of an otherwise really crudpy day, as I had experienced a couple of times earlier when I was totally unable to connect to my own damn hostin' server as well. I was unsure if there were doin' some maintenance on my server, if there was some break in the backbone between here and there, or if it was due to some maintenance they were doin' at the DNS pointin' service, who had actually sent me notice of that there was somethin' planned there that might be interruptin' their mail service. But, such problems were intermittent and I could work around these minor difficulties. However, when you are on dialup and the phone lines go completely dead: "Sorry Bud, Game Over." As I has already had a pretty crudpy day, I just decided to give it up. I still had a couple of movies I rented that are due back on Friday, so I decided to go watch one of those: Signs.

This Mel Gibson fiasco turned out to be a really horribly written combination of Close Encounters of the Third Kind/Independence Day/Night of the Living Dead ... but thankfully had enough pretty fine actin' here and there plus enough novelty to keep me interested. I only intermittently found myself gazin' at my navel and shakin' my head in disbelief. My only real complaint is that, at the end, I felt really let down -- like I had just diligently watched a fairly well done vehicle that went nowhere and had no clear message. It was a fittin' end to the pile of crud which had been my long and arduous day. I went to bed feelin' exhausted and flat. I forgot all about comin' in and postin' this report. Well, here it is, later than usual. End of report.