You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave

Listening to Brian Eno's Discreet Music. It's a lily pond of serenity with an eye-drop of sadness. In the book, The Secret History of Rock, Jim O'Rourke says it was the only album he listened to one year. I've contemplated a similar action, but I won't ever go through with it; there is far too much music to listen to.

This morning, I waited an hour at the Parking Clerk's office for the privilege of shelling out thirty smackers for a parking sticker. I'm glad I got it out of the way. I spoke to a woman about George R. R. Martin after I spied a character from his work (Cleftjaw, for you Martin geeks) mentioned in the text on the display screen of her Kindle. Our conversation barely caught wind; my number was called just as it was getting good. There I was, trying to make a case for a Feast of Crows, the oft condemned fourth book of the The Song of Ice And Fire series. "Reading it a second time, I came away thinking it was one of the better books in the series", I said. "It's written a bit differently than its predecessors. The prose is fluid and there's a .........oh, my number is called. Enjoy the series. Bye".

Because I had been holding in a pee for over an hour, I was thrilled when my number was called and soon forgot about the tragedy of being thrust out of a blossoming conversation. I'm not sure I would have been able to hold out much longer. I got my sticker and a visitor pass and made a pit stop at home to expel liquid waste from my body before heading to work, where I spent a good portion of the day feeling a little prickly for some reason. Maybe I'm just a prick.

Ok, a bit about Downton Abbey because I keep threatening to write about it. If I don't follow through, I'll just be bolstering the case made against me by all you haters who think I'm all talk and no action. Prepare to eat crow, you ill-begotten demons!

Downton Abbey. I'll make it simple and will include no spoilers for those of you who plan on watching the show. The first season, especially early on, was captivating, intelligent, and mannered. It was evident early on that the show was a soap opera at heart, but one cloaked in good writing and better acting. Thus, I willingly, often eagerly, stuck it out. The next season, which just ended, stripped itself of some layers and let the soap opera go to town. After watching the last episode, I felt a bit relieved that I didn't have to watch anymore for at least a year until the next season airs. The show delivers what it intends to very well, but it's turning into something I can't readily stomach. I think I need to watch some Deadwood, perhaps the greatest television show ever made, to cleanse my system.

I've become aware that I'm often thinking several thoughts concurrently. I attribute this to the new world I've landed in, one that often finds me multitasking on the Internet. I'll be playing an interview Guy Maddin while reading an article about artificial rooster insemination while thinking about taking a shower or calling my parents. Even away from the monitor, this type of thing is going on. I don't know if it's a good or bad thing, but it's adaptive behavior. Have you experienced this, Billy?

I've said what I needed to say, so I'm going to make like a tree and get the fuck out of dodge, you scoundrels.