Meteorite Update

Check out the recent article from Space.com 'Meteorite' Crash Breeds Mass Hysteria. It looks like I might have a future in professional psychological speculation. (You can read my original post "Meteorite Sickens Peruvian Villagers" here.)

Then again, what if that is what they want us to think? I mean, I haven't actually been down to the crash site. And where are all of the sick villagers now? Is this a cover up for a global conspiracy about alien viruses, and if not, a highly advanced weapon that is not supposed to exist? This could be a case for Scully and Mulder. Or not.

Would anyone else like to throw in a conspiracy theory or two? This is one of my favorite ways to waste time at work.

Magna Carta for Sale

I thought it was a pretty cool story on nytimes.com. Check it out here.

For those of you who can't quite match the name to any of your otherwise infinite knowledge of history, the Magna Carta was created by King John in 1215. It was written to appease the barons of England and bound the king as well as his subjects to the rule of law. It is the basis for the U.S. Bill of Rights.

More construction

I thought it was an earthquake at first. But anyone living over a construction site would identify the tremors as just another nuisance that comes with the territory. Are they installing a ceiling? Are they actually drilling down into the ground? Perhaps an untapped source of oil is sitting just underneath the location of that future clothing store. I can just imagine oil gushing up through my sink and the the bath drain. Maybe I could get all of the other renters to pitch in and collect all of the oil that they can in buckets and used soda bottles. We'd sell it to local gas stations and make a few bucks.

When the tremors started, I just grabbed onto the shelves to steady them. But after around three minutes, it was clear that everything would come down in one way or another. So the apartment is laid out with dishes and cups and glasses. These things may still knock over so I wait and see. But for how long? Only until the motion sickness gets to an unbearable level. I feel like Sylvester the Cat after his head was bashed with over-sized cymbals. You know how he would vibrate and bounce out of a room, onto the window ledge, and then fall to the street? Tweety was a clever bird.

This could be a good thing. A test of the body and spirit. Maybe astronauts have to sit on a shaking platform for five hours in order to stimulate liftoff. Yep, this could work in my favor. Future astronaut. That could be the most important job of my life; the career change that all of the palm-readers were too frightened to tell me.

Is this text a bit wobbly or is it just me?