does a sick society get so used to its illness that it can't remember being well? what if the memory is too dangerous for the people who like things the way they are?

On a sunny Tuesday - for it seems so many awful things happen on a Tuesday - six astronauts and one schoolteacher attempted to pierce the sky. Instead they touched the stars.

The nation was tearing itself apart over pro-life and pro-choice but completely ignored the problems of the kids who were already here. I mean, no schools, no work, no clue if they'd even have a future. They just went nuts!

The rides are different for everyone. I'm convinced of that now. I mean, sure, there are some we ride together. Either we find ourselves drawn to some common experience, or maybe we're pulled in by the people we care about. Our friends, our families can drag us onto coasters and Tilt-A-Whirls that are really meant for them. But in the end, no matter whose rides we find ourselves on, the experience is all our own.

Fight, flight, and screw up royaly.

We move in and out of darkness and light all our lives. Right now I'm pleased to be in the light.

The homes here are almost identical, but not quite, full of people almost identical, but not quite.