Aside from an accute case of Explainitis (see: George Lucas) near the end of the book, I thought it was quite good.

I just wrote a shopping list, duplicated below.

1. Coffee
2. Potatoes
3. Spook Country

Then a crude drawing of an automatic pistol.

I think I’ll buy some slightly higher grade coffee than I did last time. Valu tub of Sam’s Choice managed to be OK wake up fodder, but it still had this vague metallic taste. I don’t think I’m ready for whole beans and grinding and whatnot though. It’d definitely be on the weird side to go on the high end for the coffee and still be pouring Non Dairy Dry Cream Colored Product into it. And I simply don’t have the taste for it black. I think an appreciation for good coffee is another project for another day.

On the pistol front, I’ve been thinking for a while about buying one, but then I’ve been looking at the amount of shit I own and thinking that maybe I should get rid of things for a change. I have a box of old comics reserved for a buddy down in Phoenix that is too heavy to ship. I should probably just cherry pick some of them for him and give the rest away on Craigslist. I have several tubs of books. I should do the same with them. A paintball gun that I’ll probably never use. Enough spare bike parts to build another bike. Strange parts to cars I don’t own. Dozens of tubs of cables and wires and AC adapters and shit and shit and shit. Just shit. Enough shit to overflow my ability to store it.

This morning I read a post that said “Possessions are a prison”, and it made me feel a little bad. I may never be able to get away from my 80’s upbringing. I’m constantly sitting in the shadow of a massive, idealized Ronald Reagan, with my corporate sponsorship stickers, driving down the freeway of my life, pedal down, in the fast lane. Rayban-shielded eyes looking for an exit with a mall at it, trying to find the most expensive stuff that will make me happy forever.