In which the author says some pretty terrible things which might not turn out to be all that terrible

In another blog.

In another life I'd have lived in Europe near a sunken courtyard, with wisteria and all sorts of other climbing vines, and perhaps a few hanging baskets.

Minimum number of people killed by CIA drone attacks in Pakistan last year: 607

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

My skin is at odds with the sun after our long absence. And yet, it's touch is so familiar and warm.

Number of those who appeared on a U.S. terrorist watch list: 2

Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command


After a while, I became afraid that I didn't even know what a rose bushes' roots looked like, so I just started pulling everything up, figuring, to hell with it, we'll plant another one.

Average salary difference between a starting New York Public School teacher and a first-year private lawyer in 1970: 2,000

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.


After an hour or so it became clear that the original planter continued on for perhaps the length of the yard and to continue on my current course of action would lead to a large trench through our new landscaping. I desisted immediately.

Today: 106,000

And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:

I was reminded today that all new owners want to put their touch on a house. S remembered thinking of how beautifully painted the walls were in a house we were admiring and how she thought that she might like to change them. This has something to do with limited presidential terms and the brevity of life and innovation. Perhaps.

Estimated amount spent by Britain's National Health Service to outfit London ambulances for obese patients: 341,000

Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!

In the afternoon we went to a play date for babies. At some point someone suggested that we put all of the babies on a blanket together and take a picture. A pile of babies. Why could my mind only conjure up thoughts of horrors past?

Minimum amount spent treating pet obesity in the U.S. 25,000, 000

Nothing beside remains.

I think what I keep trying to say over and over is think. But I could be wrong. I've been wrong more times than I can count on the thousand fingers of a thousand broken statues.

Percentage by which an American is more likely than a non-American to suffer from bipolar disorder: 100

Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,

In the sunken garden we'd drink tea. No, no, wine, or something harder still, but mixed just right. We'd listen to the birds without having to name them.

Percentage of households whose head is nearing retirement age that have a 401K type of account: 60.

The lone and level sands stretch far away".

But then again, I am always talking of birds and wine when what I need to be reminding you of is that leaking faucet, the tax return, the aging slats on the roof. Or is that not why anyone turns to art? For reminders of decay?

Chances that such a household has adequate savings to maintain its standard of living into retirement: 1 in 10.

Ozymandia, by Percy Bysshe Shelley.

The light in the yard is best in the morning when one finds it easy to bend the spine of a book and forget, for once, about how one might be perceived.

Chances that a U.S. millionaire does not feel wealthy: 2 in 5

Chances that a little girl is upstairs crying because she lacks a blanket to snuggle to her face: 100

Average amount that he or she believes would begin to create such a feeling: 7,500,000

Or to put it more archaically

King James Ecclisastes

2 Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity.
3 What profit hath a man of all his labor which he taketh under the sun?
4 One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth for ever.
8 All things are full of labor; man cannot utter it: the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing.
9 The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.
10 Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is new? it hath been already of old time, which was before us.
11 There is no remembrance of former things; neither shall there be any remembrance of things that are to come with those that shall come after.