In the words of Neil Peart, I've been doing some serious existential reckoning of late. As many of you know, I cannot and will not, allow stock, over-the-counter thinking, writing, acting, or living into my tiny-little, flying-fortress-Of mystery. Every bit of information is thoroughly masticated and then, triple-filtered through the poly-phosphoric membrane. I have recently learned of an analogue transmitter on top of the mighty Shasta Bally that will allow us to once again receive a signal via rabbit-ear antennae. I, for one, am mildly delighted. That is all. OVER!
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