Skymall Catalog's special "Rich and Stupid" edition.

Tired of just burning your money? Then you need a $79 sweatshirt. But not just any sweatshirt! This is a very special woo-imbued sweatshirt.

These are not your ordinary shirts! Why? Research that shows written words on containers of water can influence the water's structure for better or worse depending on the Intent of the word. The human body is over 70% water. We believe that these positive, loving and powerful words will have a profound effect on your entire being when worn on your own personal "container" on a daily basis. Imagine the feelings of Love, Peace, Courage, Strength, Hope and more, that you'll experience with these wonderful words printed on the inside of your clothing.

Where to begin?

Saturday night and I ain't got nobody.

I'll be in Chicago this weekend. I notice that the spinach ricotta cheese pie is still on the menu at Dave's Italian Kitchen. Would anyone care to join me? How long is the wait for the purple line at Howard on Saturday nights these days?

Another example of how not to get in to graduate school.

From: Hope S. Eternal
To: Angry Professor
Re: Graduate School

Hey Dr. Professor,
My name is Hope and I'm applying to the LSU Social Science Ph.D. program. Your work on [cut and paste from website] looks very interesting. Can you tell me what else you're working on? Are you accepting new students?

Hope

Thank god it's over.

My paternal grandparents came from the Ozarks, a place to which their ancestors fled (the family speculates) after deserting the Union army. They eventually settled in Atlanta and became slumlords, providing barely livable housing to poor Black families. They referred to their clientele exclusively as "The N---ers." My father taught me that was not an acceptable way to refer to a person of color, even while he speculated that there must be something wrong with people who would live in the squalid conditions established by my grandfather.

My maternal grandfather was a South Carolina native, a state that his ancestors came to as landed gentry. My ancestors were slave-owners, and my mother's very unusual maiden name is shared by our White line and a Black line that my aunts and uncles have tried very hard to ignore. My grandfather was a farmer, and he had Black tenant farmers -- sharecroppers. My grandmother was fond of entertaining guests, and would, for large parties, ask the sharecroppers' wives to serve dinner for her guests. She would make them wear black dresses with white aprons. My grandfather was heard to tell them, "Mind you say nothing to my guests." We were not permitted to play with their children.

I grew up in a town in the middle of a Midwestern state. There were no Black families in my town. I only saw Black children when I visited my grandparents. When I reached high school, I finally had two Black classmates. Thanks to my upbringing, I was incapable of interacting with them in any way that wasn't ignorant and racist. I like to think I've come a long way since then.

I am not going to tell you, my readers, for whom I voted for president. We had two smart and decent candidates from which to choose, both with strong qualifications and both with serious limitations. Never mind for whom you and I cast our votes: I am very proud today to be a citizen of these United States.

I'm paralyzed.

No, I haven't dropped off the face of the Earth. However, I can't blog anything right now. I'm over at pollster, transfixed by tiny little movements in proportions not significantly different from 0.5. It's like popping bubble wrap; I can't stop myself. If y'all don't hear from me by Thursday, I'll probably need some help getting out.