Basic Sunday Ruminations

It's Sunday in America, if not morning. A gentle, welcome silence wafts through the neighbourhood without the typical guard-dog freak-outs at other dogs on leashes strolling by the mini-mansions with their trophy owners at the helm. Such a relief from noise pollution!

Writing of such, the Sunday TV news programs are not blaring-out from my abode, either. It's a pleasure that world events are under control - at last - and talking heads aren't boring us into a brain freeze. At least if the TV is silent.

Sure. Nothing has been solved with regard to Libya other than speculation concerning where to send Gaddafi into his formal "goodnight" - if he's willing to don the proper pajamas and allow himself to be put to bed like a good little dictator on someone else's soil. But the good news is that it is calmer over there right now than it's been for a few weeks. If one ignores the latest outburst in Yemen.

In fact, the general atmosphere of massive world events has temporarily stabilized if one compares todays' lull with the hysteria of Mother Earth's wrath over the months. Well, it's calm except in the Midwest/Southeast sections of America where heavy storms are slapping more hapless victims right where they live. But hey, bad storms are always afoot in the States. Nuclear reactor meltdowns aren't.

Concerning the radiation leak, check this out:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/04/17/japan-nuclear-crisis-roadmap-fukushima_n_850157.html

If I were one of the Fukushima evacuees I would be quite irked at the latest feeble attempt to clean up a mess that has no tangible end. In fact, why would I want to go back home anyway? Sure, making toast would be easy - just set a piece of bread on anything in the area and - voila! - there's your crackling bread naturally burnt into a pleasing crisp. "Look Ma', no hands! Would you like a bit of Umeboshi  paste with that as well? It covers the slightly bitter taste of biting too many bullets at once."

Nevertheless, if you are enjoying a pleasant, drama-less day and feel at a loss for an adrenalin jump to remind yourself that this world is still going to Hades in a Bentley driven by your former accountant, do not fear. You have an opportunity to laugh all the way to your local therapist over Donald Trump's threat to run for president.

If inclined toward lesser ills, you could spend part of your day pondering why Angelina Jolie did not accompany Brad Pitt to a tre' haute "industry" wedding yesterday while Tom and Katie, Jennifer and Marc, and others worked their way through the guilded entrance points.

Yep. The Interwebs are all abuzz about Mr. Pitt sans Ms. Jolie getting out of a town car at the wedding in another round of rumpled clothing and slicked-back hair that must have been combed with Vaseline or styled with a comb from the storage area of the stylist who saved Henry Winkler's "Fonzie" comb, grease and all, for posterity - or simple neglect by not tossing it into the nearest trash can.

Ah, there's so much time to waste today if you're up for it. My suggestion is to enjoy yourself whatever you choose to do - and don't forget to call your mother if you can.