In light of the incomprehensible tragedy that occurred on Tuesday, the whole concept of weblogging as I practice it — wry, acerbic commentary on popular culture — seems patently absurd. So if you're looking for witty, sarcastic observations, check back in a few days. Or weeks. Or never.

But what is one supposed to do in the wake of a tragedy of this magnitude? Hell if I know. Everything I do seems ridiculous, whether it's going to work, getting my cavities filled, working out. ... Shit, I can't even donate blood — the one sane response in the midst of all this insanity — on account of my penchant for body modification. Nothing like the worst terrorist attack in the history of the world to put things in perspective, huh?

The fact remains that all my loved ones are safe and sound. But becasuse of the scope of this disaster, that may not be the case for some of you who read this. I can only imagine how that must feel. I still cannot get my head around the enormity of this, and I haven't even lost anyone close to me. My heart goes out to those who have.

To those who thought they'd never see the day, I'm really just at a loss for words. I hope you and yours are safe and sound. Over and out. ßßß

Grab up the people you love and hold them close. ßßß

Life is so short that it is not wise to take roundabout ways, nor can we spend much time in waiting.
— Henry David Thoreau

So my hedging of bets in Friday's post was prophetic, no? Barry hit three homers on Sunday afternoon in Denver on the Giants win over the Rockies. Two of the three were classic Coors Canaveral shots: balls that would have been outs, or doubles at best, in any other park. But his first homer was monumental, something on the order of 440 feet.

So the record is clearly within his reach now: seven homers to tie Mcgwire with 18 games remaining. One every 2.57 games. Piece o' cake, no? Sidenote: The Giants are leading the NL wild-card race. This is getting good.

My Weekend, in Brief

Dinner out Friday night with the wife, followed by viewing Rogue Trader. Great food, great company, terrible movie.

Saturday: Matinee of Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Good movie, great songs, woulda been much better in the hands of a more experienced director. Then errands on behalf of my brother who's suffering from an undiagnosed liver condition. Then viewing Rock 'n' Roll High School. The Ramones. Three chords. Rock 'n' roll. Joey RIP.

Sunday: Going to the gym and forgetting to take my thyroid medicine until late in the day, hence feeling like I'm on narcotics all day. Even after a nap I was still groggy and out of it. Not entirely unpleasant, but weird. Then band practice, which totally rocked. Then viewing Insomniac with Dave Attell. Definitely worth losing sleep over. Not to be missed.

Now work. You too. Go now. ßßß

Don't miss last week's brilliant insight.