I don't mean to incite violence or anything, but I wanted to share the image and words above to remind people that sometimes I'm glad that I shave my head bald.

Actually, this picture's dreadful. I found it on a Live Journal blog (Live Journal is public high school to Blogger's Ivy League). Probably posted by some ignorant redneck jock, the kind that used to want to beat me up when I was a long-haired teenager back in the 70s. It takes me back to high school - I can still hear the taunts: "Hey, hippie! Get a haircut!," and "Get in the car, we wanna talk to you about sumpin'," and "Hey, faggot!" (which I understood even back then to mean "Hey! You're different and strange to me, and I have these deep, complicated, unresolved issues about that," but I knew better than to express my understanding). And people outside of my family were even worse.

So Emos are apparently the new freaks. "Hey, it's 666 Day! Let's go punch an Emo kid in the face," I guess today's high school jocks say. They'll probably grow up to be Republicans, with nothing to offer the world except date rape and bigotry.

666 Day. I'm glad that people didn't make too big a deal of it. The water-cooler talk around my office revolved around whether or not terrorists would find significance in the date, and use it as a target date for their next atrocity. Apparently not, based on the news so far today (and it's getting late).

Getting late on a long day, too. Up at five, at the zendo by six, office by eight. Full day at work, and then off to a Neighborhood Planning Unit meeting at 7:00 p.m. I didn't get home until almost 10. Tomorrow evening's my only time off until Friday night of next week.

Now, I've got to go and answer several emails - the Zen apostate; my half brother (!), a son of my late father by his second marriage, who's written me for the first time. like, ever; a few people interested in Saturday's Zen hike. Then a shower (no time in the morning if I'm to make the 6:00 am sit) and off to bed.

That's my life. How're you doing?