If only I could shape sharp blandishments with my pen and persuade with a tongue honeyed and dulcet. Alas, I am not keyed to the tones of these times, these many brash and bold barks of confidence, informed only by vicious moral certitude. Words are wielded only as edged weapons to score the point, the debateable point. And I? I only know how to hum softly and craft phrases of pretention. Compared with the loud and cutting tongues, I am a tyro and a mooncalf. Or so it seems.

Sick, sick, sick
in the dumpster, baby
Sick, sick, sick
of your lies.
-- Iggy Pop, lyric from unlisted song on Beat 'Em Up which I call (what else?) "Sick Sick Sick"

In other news, I'm working on some new banners/title graphics but because I'm working in Illustrator, I'm having trouble making them do what I want. Here are some variations. The thick black top/bottom on the first one is a mistake but it makes for a nice effect.