The Waiting Is the Hardest Part

I hope Santa gets here soon. I have the French Press ready. The cookies are out at the appointed spot. I've moved the car a bit to make room for the sleigh's landing. And I've rehearsed the question Skylar requested that I ask him so many times that it's burned into my brain: "How fast do reindeer fly?" I wish I knew. Given my knowledge of geography, though, I suspect that there is magic involved. Perhaps the festive flight crew apparates from one location to the next. I'll have to listen for the sound of a sharp crack in the night.

Merry Christmas!

Word To World

Woot for the Loot

I didn't get a lot of presents this year, but they were especially good ones. The big gift was Unseen Cinema - Early American Avant Garde Film 1894-1941, a massive 7 DVD collection, which I am dying to dip into. But I was also delighted with the collection of Snoopy and Woodstock cartoons Skylar picked out, the model of a 1967 Shelby GT Mustang, and the Rudolph-the-Red-Nosed-Reindeer back massager. I spent hours laughing at Sky Maul, which distills the absurdity of the Sky Mall catalogue into something sublime. And I love the shirt I'm wearing, which would be awesome no matter where it came from, but is even better because it comes from chrisglass:

I got mine because I won't stop making random statements involving "Nietzsche," whose visage appears in the top right corner of the T-shirt design. But there are plenty of other reasons to celebrate a diverse group of men wearing facial hair. Or so I've been told. And there are certainly many reasons to direct your business the way of Chris and his friends.