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Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.) Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu. This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things. Tuesday, July 23, 2002
And the rabbit goes down the hole...
Bear with me as I log yet another milestone in my life. Please remember that although suburban life is glamorized in the movies with incredible stories of talking mice children, spy children, spy parents, wacky inventors, and Mena Suvari covered with rose petals, most of the time is is far less dramatic. Except for today. For today, my friends, I no longer have a baby at my house. Despite the fact that our youngest daughter still gets big soppy tears when told she must take turns, still accidentally pees in the middle of Wal-Mart, still torments small animals, and still thinks that my omnipotence is second only to the Creator's (and despite the fact that I still do these things, too), today upon the breathtaking expanse of our driveway, she tied her shoe. Liberation! Freedom! Throughout the entirety of human existance, there has been no greater force for the advancement of civilization than the learning of this arcane and devilishly complex set of rules and calculations--of rabbits and trees and holes and circles and loops--secrets passed from the hands of Neolithic shamans to the princes of Egypt to the halls of Minos to the Agora to the Capitoline, and now to the small hill behind the Trussville Post Office, yet another brave human goes out into the clamor and confusion of life freed from the tyranny of untied shoes! Excelsior!
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