We're Gonna Be OK

It's 1:07 and I'm just hopping on for a late-night/early-morning update. I have several things on my mind that will eventually make their way on to this blog, but I ask for your patience. This isn't quite Ike apologizing to Tina (or to Kevin Nealon; "Ike didn't mean it, Kevin Nealon"), but I do feel like a neglectful spouse. This means the blog has finally become a clinical psychological problem, yes? Something that would be better addressed by the good folks at Mayo?

The subjects occupying my thoughts in a way that would normally show up around here include: Jury duty, fantasy baseball, Billy Joel, and British reality TV stars. How are you living without this stuff?

The day this site becomes only an infomercial for other ventures, I promise I'll shut it down. But for now, a brief infomercial: Head over to The Second Pass to read Jon Fasman's take on a dystopian classic, Emily Bobrow's review of a novel about a 16-year-old schizophrenic roaming the New York subway system, a review by one of my favorite science writers, John Horgan, recommendations from the site's readers (if you are one, send a recommendation along!), and the latest on the blog -- the blog whose lipstick is on my collar when I come home to ASWOBA at night.