THE WORLD NEEDS MORE BLOGS... I'M HERE TO HELP

...I DON'T LIKE BLOGS. I FIND PEOPLE THAT DO A LOT OF TALKING GENERALLY HAVE NOTHING TO SAY. IF YOUR CAT IS UNUSUALLY LETHARGIC TODAY, THERE'S NO NEED FOR A PRESS RELEASE. I'M QUITE HAPPY REMAINING UNAWARE OF WHICH CLUB A SLOPPY HOTEL HEIRESS PASSED OUT AT LAST NIGHT. WITHOUT A SECOND THOUGHT, I'LL HAPPILY IGNORE THE LATEST UPDATES ON CRUCIAL WORLD NEWS AS REPORTED BY GREATLY RESPECTED BLOGS... SIMPLY BECAUSE THE WORD "BLOG" SOUNDS SILLY.

HOWEVER, I HAD AN IMPORTANT DREAM LAST NIGHT. I FOUND MYSELF BESIDE ONE WILLIAM H. TAFT (27TH PRESIDENT OF THESE UNITED STATES, AND WORLD REKNOWNED WALRUS ENTHUSIAST). HE SAT ME DOWN IN HIS DRAWING ROOM FOR A LITTLE HEART-TO-HEART.

HE SAID, "JAMES, MY BOY... NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE VALUE OF COMMUNICATION. WHY, I WOULD SAW OFF HALF MY LEFT FOOT TO HAVE ACCESS TO THESE UNWIRED TELEGRAMAPHONES AND WORLDWIDE INTERWEB BOXES YOU SO TAKE FOR GRANTED. EVERY VOICE IS UNIQUE, MY CHILD, AND YOU ARE A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE SNOWFLAKE UNLIKE ANY OTHER. GO... GO AND FALL FROM THE SKY TO BESTOW YOUR COLD WETNESS UPON THE WORLD!"

I CONTEMPLATED HIS WORDS AS THE WISPY SOULS OF CHILDREN MR. TAFT HAD ONCE BESTED IN BACK-ALLEY KNIFE FIGHTS FLOATED UP AND AWAY FROM HIS MAHOGANY PIPE. CLEARLY, THIS WAS ADVICE NOT TO BE TAKEN LIGHTLY.

...ACTUALLY, THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN. I DON'T KNOW WHY I WOULD BOTHER WRITING SUCH NONSENSE. GUESS I'VE CAUGHT THE BLOGGER'S BUG ALREADY. THE TRUTH IS, MY BELOVED OLD SITE WASN'T SET UP IN A WAY TO FACILITATE MY LAZY TENDENCIES - SO FOR NOW, THE OLD SITE IS GOING IN THE CLOSET.

IN THE MEANTIME, HERE'S A PIC OF SOME BIRDS I FOUND ALONG THE HUDSON RIVER ACROSS FROM MANHATTAN. NOTE THE IRONIC DICHOTOMY OF THE DELICATE TROPICAL BIRDS SHARING A MOMENT ATOP A RUSTY SPAN OF BARBED WIRE (IN WINTERY NEW JERSEY, NO LESS!) ...TRUE ART.





HERE ARE SOME OTHER BIRDS I FOUND...


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