I don’t ordinarily talk much about the crap that floats through my brain when I dream. Most of it is uninteresting anyway, since I’m (wait for it…) LIVING the dream these days, but last night’s was an exception.
There’s this Isaac Asimov story about Entropy called “The Last Question.” The text is here. If you’re familiar with the story, head behind the cut. If you’re not and you don’t mind a bit of a spoiler, head behind the cut. If you want to read the story for yourself first, well, the link is right there.
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to get credit for the extinction of a species?
The Baker’s Larkspur is an endangered plant whose total population has been reduced from 100 to five by some earth-moving equipment in California. (LINK). Apparently the plant only grows now in ONE PLACE and hasn’t been successfully transplanted elsewhere.
That means that a bottle of Round-Up could get you into the history books. Admittedly you’d probably also get arrested, and maybe even shot at or fire-bombed by some over-stressed eco-freak, but think of the notoriety! You’d be the Lee Harvey Oswald (or at least the Charles Guiteau) of the botanical world!
In other news, statistics fabricated only moments ago show that 99% of botanical preservationists put all of their eggs in the same basket when they shop.
The little old lady in the apron at Wal-Mart was giving out samples of new Chocolate Lucky Charms today.
I went back 5 minutes later and snuck a second cup while her back was turned. Because, you know, I’m too cheap these days to actually BUY them. Besides, they’d be like crack — addictive, bad for me, and my kids would get into the stuff causing no end of troubles.
My butt hurts. I spent at least eight hours, maybe nine, perhaps even 10 sitting at my computer and coloring and lettering the last of the current commercial project. Yes, there were breaks in there. I had to take some time off because my mouse-hand started to hurt. That hasn’t happened since Starcraft (or maybe Insaniquarium yesterday, but that should go without saying).
Anyway, now my time is my own for the next 13 days. Hopefully I can get some Schlock cranked out in that time. I mean, I’ve just demonstrated that I can put the hours in when I’m being PAID to.