This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004 sounds (already), old, scratched, a little battered, like my camera cellphone (which I bought in 2004). This blog is one of the transitions for the new year. I've started it This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004 sounds (already), old, scratched, a little battered, like my camera cellphone (which I bought in 2004). This blog is one This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004 sounds (already), old, scratched, a little battered, like my camera This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004

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Fluff?

1:30 PM Saturday, August 12, 2006

[Michigan mishegoss and more.]

I haven't posted to the Coffeeblog in almost than two weeks. It's not that I had run out of things to post, or that I didn't feel like writing. It was something else. It took me some time to figure out what it was.

You see, the past ten days have been full of ugly stuff. Israel has been demolishing parts of Lebanon, Hisbollocks (did I spell that right?—there are so many variations!) rained retributory rockets where Jesus once preached peace, while diplomats wept, wailed, and gnashed teeth. Pundits pontificated and pontiffs promulgated pure punditry. Propagandists fomented fauxtography while the Israeli dead reposed unexposed. And that was all before the exposure of a new plot to blow up aircraft with phony hair gel and bogus beverages, and before revelation of the mass Michigan resale of cell phone parts to bomb-builders. It seemed, in the past ten days like the usual topics of Jonathan's Coffeeblog—the meaning of life, the arts, gods, myths, and coffee itself—were so much fluff, compared to the mass mayhem mishegoss.

OK. I got that rant out of my system. So what shall I write about next? Those who would roast their own (coffee that is, not citizens)? Arts festivals where there is no there there? Comic strip clowns with heads resembling bowling pins? We'll see.

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