Spooky Moon

A picture is said to be worth a thousand words.  I doubt this, since the only words that apply to many pictures are "Is that your thumb?" and "How long has your camera been broken?"

With that in mind, here is a picture.  I call it Spooky Moon, because A) it looked spooky when I took it, and B) it's the Moon.

Fig. 5a, re: the Moon

That's precisely the kind of Moon I always picture when I'm writing.  So, if you're reading something of mine and the Moon is mentioned, think big and ominous and, in the spirit of accuracy, also grainy and overexposed.

I do love a big fat harvest Moon, served up with a bit of chill in the air.  

But wait, you may ask.  With so much going on in the world, why are you posting old pics of dubious quality and ignoring the historic events unfolding in Egypt, for instance, and elsewhere?

You'd be right to ask that.  After all, my old blog was nearly all political.  

But this time around, the sad truth is that I just don't give a wet hang.  I'm not mad anymore.  I'm not appalled, or shocked, or outraged, or even mildly discombobulated.

I just don't care. 

So if Charles Manson is installed as Speaker of the House, or if a bag of Cheetos winds up on the UN Security Council, fine.  You won't hear me grousing about it.  Raise taxes to pay for public displays of ornamental taxidermy.  Establish a government commission to regulate gerunds.  Make it illegal to demonstrate left-handedness on a Tuesday.

Yawn.  

I've decided to defend myself with stout walls of military-grade apathy.  I shall erect a fortress of impenetrable uncarium.  My lack of concern to matters domestic and foreign will be not only visible from space, but also a navigation hazard due to its blazing, continuous intensity.

So, no more Dick Cheney jokes.  No more mixed references to American foreign policy and massive head injury.  Nevermore shall I cast scorn, corn, or Bjorn toward Washington or those that dwell within.

With that, I bid you all goodnight.  I hope a spooky Moon smiles down upon you.