The end of the world interests me as much as the next guy, maybe more. The reason I don’t write about it here is I figure, either you’re interested in it, in which case you are already reading somewhere else about AIG managers investing their bailout $$ in cucumber masks, or you’re not interested in it and will find out the hard way soon enough. Either way, I figure we’re here for the kittens, amirite?
I had a dream last night – in fact, I was having it this morning when my alarm went off – that a Turkish international economist had called me from Washington DC and left a message on my thin white Nokia cellphone (Finno-Ugric/Turkish connection! woot, extra dream points). Here is the weird, dreamlike part: The message consisted of a telephone number that would be “open” for the next ten minutes, she said. She read the number, and then, knowing I never understand anything people say on my Nokia, she read it again with a mechanical male voice. At least two of the numbers were in a foreign language, however.
I wrote them all down when I woke, figuring I might buy a lotto ticket today. I just googled the two words I had not understood. One turns out to be a Banda initiation rite, the other is a word in another language meaning pilgrimage.