Dear Millicent,

1.) Why haven’t we written about Michael Jackson’s death? His body is going to be on public display at Neverland tomorrow.  His upcoming tour was to be called This Is It.  Fans are apparently suicidal with grief.  It all seems so wrought that overwrought feels like a synonym rather than a further degree.

2.) Why are there so many websites popping up to help us make decisions: Bing, Hunch, Aardvark? The internet is slowly becoming our mass brain, and while it is run by secret algorithms and marketing research tabulations, we eventually will think it has a heart of astrology, and lungs of fate.  In short, are we screwed?

3.) New routines? Netflix wonders you must see as your eyeballs recover from their intense labor: Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, Me Without You, Headcase.  There are more…just can’t think of them now.

I am in the land of adolescence, wondering about houseguests, and if youth is over when you ask yourself the question “I didn’t used to get this tired, did I?”




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