The Architects of Time
By C. Dale Young
had grown to love absence,
and so, the lot had to be vacant
except for the lone tree.
The first, on arrival, would
throw his hands up, reaffirm
that with a gesture he could
return the leaves to the branches.
Another, tired from the journey,
would lie down
and, closing his eyes, hasten
the demise of the locusts.
It was always the same.
A week, a century, the empty lot.
The last architect, the great
philosopher, was late as usual—
when they talked about the end,
he would laugh and remind them
they were now at the mercy
of the scientists, without whom
the architects would cease to exist.
It was a lovely, cool, rainy Monday, and I spent most of it indoors with a lingering headache that was threatening to become a full-blown migraine as the weather front moved through, but apparently I got the combination of drugs and the timing right because it moved off by late afternoon, just as the thunderstorms moved in. The kids had summer homework to do and friends to play video games with this last week before school...Adam's best friend came over here and stayed for dinner, while Daniel's best friend, who has spent most of the summer visiting family in Bangladesh, and this morning he appeared on Runescape, so the boys were IMing for a while.
I managed to wring out enough news from that Kate Mulgrew interview to post an article, and then USA Today had a new interview with Zachary Quinto about Heroes and Star Trek. In the evening we all watched Pan's Labyrinth, which we never managed to see in the theater and is finally on Cinemax On Demand. Not sure I'd have watched when the kids were up if I'd seen it first -- the fascist violence is really awful, I'm glad I didn't see that on the big screen -- but they're familiar with other atrocities that happened to children during the same era in Europe and although they were definitely bothered by certain scenes and a bit confused about the ending, they liked the movie and I'd so much rather them see violence in a movie that's about something than most of the crap action stuff that's out there. The cinematography is as good as everyone said and the acting is exceptional. I'm so glad I convinced apaulled that we didn't need to watch pre-season Monday Night Football.
This one is only a couple of hours out of the shell. It kept getting up, wobbling a few steps, then collapsing right back into this position.
Someone had hung up absolutely dreadful chicken jokes throughout the poultry barn.
"Why did the chicken cross the road? To prove to the possum that it could be done."
"Why did the Roman chicken cross the road? Because she was afraid someone would caesar."
I'm not sure whether the jokes were supposed to sell chickens or just draw attention to which ones had won ribbons.
Anyway, where else can you get a white silkie cock for $20? *snickering*
I see that the Queen of Mean has died and Michael Vick has agreed to a plea agreement. And Dean is now a Category 5 hurricane -- hope everyone in Mexico and Texas is somewhere safe!