Ziing

Somewhere between here and school, I realized I had a headache today, and that I couldn't see out of one eye. That tends to happen when the weather changes suddenly, as it did today, so when I got home, I took some tylenol.

Well, that's about all that I have to report.

Except, for perhaps, a rant levelled against the Mayor of Biloxi, who said that Hurricane Katrina was "their tsunami." Now, I realize there's some controversy over who said the controversial statement, but I'm going to add to the controversy and say that this is perhaps the most arrogant thing I've ever heard a spokesperson say. The scale in damage and deaths of Katrina to the Boxing Day tsunami would be like somebody having their car shot up and calling it "their 9/11."

The last tally I saw for Katrina pegged the confirmed dead at just over 80, with hundreds still missing. Compare now to the Boxing Day Tsunami. There were hundreds of thousands of confirmed deaths, and millions missing, injured, or displaced. New Orleans is under water, and I understand that is a tragedy. But the water will recede, and New Orleans can be rebuilt. Had it actually been a tsunami, New Orleans would be but a memory, just like those hundreds of villages on the coast that were swallowed by the sea during the tsunami. They are gone.

This, is a hurricane. One of might and breadth, but it is still a hurricane, and they are prone at this time of year, in that location. There's a reason why it's called hurricane season. And it's not like Katrina appeared suddenly one morning and laid waste to a nation. There was almost a week of advance warning.

My condolences go out to the families that have lost property and loved ones to the storm, but they must know that this was no tsunami. Saying it is, is belittling those that died in the great disaster, as if 80 some American lives are now worth as much as hundreds of thousands of foreign lives.

Edit: Amended for more accurate counts.

We're ruthless and We're cunning

First day of school today, and the day played out much as I thought it would. I think I'll live, despite being a bit underprepared for the workload, and being left out of the loop for the college newspaper. Chalk that one up to e-mail error, so no points scored or lost. I'm still a news editor, which was a relief, and I have two assignments, which I will be pouncing on tommorrow.

It's good practice, really. Anyone who would like to try their hand at journalism, I would highly recommend it. It's a lot of fun, and it's actually a job where you can see both the cause and the effect happening at once.

Just don't try to compete with me.

It must have been genius, whoever thought that making journalism a competetive industry would be a good idea. It simultaneously ensures that free and new ideas will always be available, but at the same time, prevents any chance of there being a collaborative effort in finding the truth in incidents that we deem as news. There will always be bias, and there will always be opinions. And that tends to be what sells now, instead of raw news.

Inappreciable

Indeed, so as time passes, so too do I from your memory.

The tides have come and gone a fortnight since my passing through these parts.
The beach is clean, and I have left no prints.
I make no sound, for my breath is short and shallow, and my steps are light.

My thoughts are dark and deep, like the ocean before me.
They are turbid and unsettled, like the storm above.
They are light and dark, like the days and nights that will pass innumerable around me.

I live as this planet lives.

Every heartbeat a moment that is both infinite and infinitesimal.
Every blink of an eye, a moment of vulnerable blindness.
Every word spoken, a concept worthy of a thousand more.

With sleep, even then I walk and I think.
There is not a moment where my mind is at rest, anymore.
There is not a moment where calm pervades everything.

I see the world, with all the senses.

My eyes show me the obvious.
Like all living things, it takes time to see through the deception.
The ears can hear words of honey, but only the tongue can taste the poison.

The mind, perhaps, is the greatest sense.
Foresight, and calculation are it's domain.
With it, there is no surprise in your action, and no unexpected turns.

I live, as we all do live.

I feel everything that you feel.
Although I may not see everything you see.
It is not a far stretch for me to understand you,
and therefore,
understand what moves you.

Because everything that moves you, moves me also.

Dead Silence

My last hurrah before school starts ended up being a last groan.

Didn't sleep at all last night. I was sequestered on my friends sofa, and my sleeping bag and the sofa didn't exactly get along well. So I ended up on the floor for most of the night, and it was very uncomfortable. The whole three hours of sleep that I did get were filled with terrible nightmares that partially woke me a few times, in a cold sweat.

I'm sore, tired, and just generally in a bad mood. Like clockwork, this is usually when things go from worse to terrible.

Bring it on.

Good Night, Mr. Zacharin

Here's to doing nothing all day, being ahead of the game for once, and actually still being on my feet. My list of things to do before going back to school has shortened to two items, both of them optional at my labour. One of them happens to be Ryan's banner. My apologies, but we ran out of potatoes. I'll get back on that once we get some more spuds.

So, this is the peak before the rollercoaster goes down, the eye of the storm that's passing over. Everybody seems to be in overdrive, and I guess I'm coasting in for a landing through the tumult, on a sturdy wing and a misty prayer.

Lots of news this summer, lots of reviewing to do. My weekend will be a perusing of the archives, note-taking most of the main happenings this summer. And then I'll be packing my stuff up. Laptop in backpack, notebooks at the ready, and mind sharp.

Well, the mind is already pretty sharp. We'll just say it hasn't been an easy summer.

Wake Up, Mr. Zacharin

So I was out pretty late last night, and the weather was more than miserable. Wet, cold, dark. Couldn't see a damn thing through the windshield.

So, now I've been asleep for 10 hours, and just rolled out of bed. Not a cloud in the sky. The sun is still a little subdued in the cool air, but it looks like it was never raining to begin with. I had to check, just how long had I been asleep? Am I sure that I haven't been asleep for a day and 10 hours?

No, the date is correct. There is no evidence of the misery that was dropped upon us for the last few days. Not even a cloud.

It's so odd, but around here, I'm hardly surprised. The weather is about as predictable as the people, which means that you can predict that it won't be predictable at all. That's normal.

And I dreamt that I was locked in a tower.

Perspective is Accidental

The best pictures are always the ones you didn't know you took. I was adjusting the flash for my camera and ended up bumping the shutter button. I thought I had just cued the focus, but I was wrong.

It's a unique perspective anyway, and I liked it enough that I kept it. I was lucky that I did. The exposure was perfect, and everything was in focus. Good times indeed. I'm just sad now that all the nice sunshine has gone away, and it's now cold and wet outside.

I await the return of the sun, if there is going to be such a thing before fall besets us.

Reliquary

Within Westerdale are remains and relics of the early times, the 1920's, 30's, 40's and even the 50's. This school was built a long time ago, and my dad, aunt, and uncle all attended it, albeit that was when it was out in the "School Quarter," a plot of land that's now only barley.

Now, it's a relic, slowing rotting in Westerdale. The paint is flaking off the walls, and vandals have all but destroyed the vintage glass windows of the school. In the corner you can see the piano and the chalkboard, remnants from a time of transition in the school.

So much history, locked into four walls that are slowly melting away. It's a shame really.

The Long Roads

All of the roads out here are long. It's not like the city where lanes end abruptly, roads go to dead ends, and people are always changing lanes. Here, you can run for miles and never run out of road. There could be something deep and metaphorical about these long roads, but like most things out in this area, it's best just to keep things simple. These are roads.

They go places.

Hit the Shutter; Pray

The cool evening was perfect for fireworks. I wish you all could have been there to see it. My cousin rigged up an awesome display of pyrotechnic might, and it was the best I could do to sit there with a long shutter delay, snapping pictures, and praying that a few actually turned out.

I'll let you be the judge of my success.

Quiet

This is the baseball diamond at Westerdale. There's more history here, in this diamond, that in any of the professional diamonds in any city or town, bar none. It's empty now, since most of the people around are either too old, or too young to play baseball or softball.

So I just sit up in the bleachers, thinking. Thinking and listening to the breeze that comes down from the Rockies. The air here is mountain air, not prarie air, so there's a cool nip and crispness about it. It's warm out, but you know that fall is on its way.

Just across the street is the graveyard where my granddad is buried. I visited him for a brief time before we left. My grandpa was and is something special to me, but that relationship is not something I'm going to discuss here.

Needless to say though, this is a place of peace. It's impossible to describe, and impossible to defile.

Without Fail

The weather was good up at Westerdale this weekend. It's rained without fail for the last five years, so generally, when the family gets together, it's a soggy affair. Not so this year. I got a whole memory card full of great pictures, and I'll start processing them either tonight or tommorrow.

Being out in the country gave me a chance to clear my head too. You have no idea just how different the mindset becomes when you get out of the city. There are too many people here, all of them thinking the wrong thing. It's poisonous, with some particularly grievous effects. So I breathed the fresh country air, and thought only good thoughts for the weekend. Chatted amongst the family members for a time, and then realized they thought they were conversing with someone named Jason.

Awkward.

I'm not staying long. In a couple of days, my destination will be Strathmore again, instead of Westerdale. I'm taking the Ibanez out there for some jamming, and perhaps some gratuitous drinking and girl oggling. Scratch the girl oggling. I'm just going to drink until I forget.

See you all in a couple days.

Falling, or Kiting?

Just something I made tonight, in my boredom. Feel free to interpret this one however you want. Whether it be a person kiting, or a body falling. Whatever.

I apologize for my lack of pictures. I just haven't had the juice to get up and clear the camera off to make room for more. Expect me to bring back some from the weekend, provided it doesn't rain the whole time.

"God's Peace" Augustus, the Son of Jack.

God damn, what a day. I'm bone tired right now, and have been all day. I feel strangely triumphant for even making it through today, but I know the feeling will pass, once I actually settle into this chair.

Now, I have to repeat this performance tommorrow, and hopefully they'll let me out early. I have to leave this weekend, and I'm being pressured to leave as early as Friday, if possible. That means you guys will have to live without me for a weekend. Not that such a task should be hard.

The drawing of blood went smoothly, in an awry sort of way. They took less blood than I expected, but the fool drawing the liquid life from me kepting bumping the syringe sideways. Imagine a three inch needle imbedded in your arm, and watching the tip play about an inch left and right, under your skin.

My poor nerves were bruised. Anyone who's got a bone bruise knows what that's like.

Yeah. Not pleasant. I've got most of the feeling back, but I'm hoping the 10 or so hours of numbing discomfort was worth it.

Sorry son, you're going into Overtime

So.

I'm scheduled to work an emergency shift tommorrow. After my bloodwork. Because a co-worker has to make a 5 minute court appearance to testify on his girlfriend's behalf about a red light charge.

That was going to be my last day off before I'm done work. Now, I'm going into overtime. I feel sick and overworked as it is. I can only imagine what tommorrow will be like, after I lose about a litre of blood, and still have to put in eight hours. Followed up by another eight hours the day following.

Thanks to J too. I've only told him thrice that I'm gone this weekend. So he goes ahead and puts together a huge house-party, and wants to know if I can come. Hello, earth to Captain Oblivious. This is number four.

I'm not here.

Wonder when everyone's going to pick up on that fact?

All Good

Had a doctors appointment today. Regular checkup, and everything looks okay. Now I have to do a fasting blood test, which should be fun.

Not sure why I shared that. People's concerns over my health are generally pretty... erm... familiar , not that I have any control over it. My friend J is probably going to push me to borderline alcoholic, in time, and there's nobody to really stop me and hold me back.*

____

I had a dream last night, and it pretty well scared me. I was sitting out on my lawn, enjoying the warm summer sun, when I heard some loud booms, and some strange clouds form in the sky. Then, suddenly, it felt like I was falling, and I couldn't breathe. Well, the crux of this story is, I actually did fall out of my bed, and I couldn't breathe because I had my blanket wrapped around my head. True story. So remember kiddies. When you're dreaming, remember to come up slowly.

*Well, no one who's not a complete fucking hypocrite anyway.**
**That was humour.

If you're slow...

Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels) by The Arcade Fire is playing through my headphones right now. I was at work, and I stumbled across an advertisement on the HiDef TV's. Wouldn't you know it. An Arcade Fire concert on High Definition, followed by a Coldplay concert, also in High Definition. There's one way to sell those newfangled TV's. I still don't get HiDef, as compared to my digital pictures, their idea of "High Resolution," still looks about as appealing to my eyes as a baboon's ass.

But The Arcade Fire to my ears is like nectar to a bee.

*buzzzzzzzz*

That aside, I've been watching the Gaza withdrawal with some interest. I don't know who's fighting whom anymore, and I'm guessing that the people over there are thinking the same thing. Only problem is, they're the ones with the guns and bombs. So, I've narrowed it down to four factions. The Palistinian Authority, Hamas, the Israeli government, and the Israeli supernationalists. As far as I can tell, Hamas and the Israeli SN's hate everyone, and are more than willing to shed blood. The PA and the I-Gov are more willing to co-operate. Some sides are calling the withdrawal a victory. Others are picking sides.

I personally think the whole affair was childish, and foolhardy. I won't take a side, as both the Palistinians and the Israelis are wrong in their endeavors. It was wrong for Israel to suddenly spring out of another sovereign territory, and claim itself, but it was also wrong for the Arab powers to respond with warfare, etc. I'll refrain from using catchwords like terrorism, democratic, etc. It doesn't matter who has the tanks. It doesn't matter who swears to Allah. Dead is dead. There is no deader than dead. There are no martyrs. Just dead children, dead mothers, dead fathers, dead brothers, dead sisters, dead, dead, fucking dead.

That is what I won't pick a side. If anything, I'll speak for the dead, because it's obvious none of you will.

Business, as Usual

Who are these fuckers, and why are they spamming our blogs?

That should be the question everyone is asking themselves. Everyone's been hit by comment spam recently, likely from some seedy resort in Florida, or some other spam capital in the world.

Let me make it clear to you, spammers of the world. Let me pre-empt you even. I don't want anything you have to offer. The fact that you have to ram it into my face using comments on this blog and others, and through my e-mails, makes me desire your products and services even less, if you can believe that. I don't care what your marketing department says, if it even speaks English. Wasting my time, the server's money, and useful screen space, does not translate into some kind of profit for you.

Unless you count this technophile's unbridled hatred for you some kind of profitable incentive, your action just prove how far the underbelly of the corporate world is willing to drag.

If you want to actually turn a profit honestly, consider this. Pay for a small strip of advertising space in a legitimate website that has similar interests to your business. That way, you're not getting in our faces. Think of it this way. Don't call us. We'll call you. If it's the other way around, then you're doing something wrong.

____

Rant aside. Happy Birthday, Stephanie.

Unexpected?

I wasn't planning on doing an entry tonight. In fact, I wasn't even planning on being home tonight, at least not until later. Some friends of mine were supposed to be coming to the city, and I left the night open for them.

Well, guess what? Nobody showed. Shock and... wait. No, I'm not surprised.

Life lesson for this summer. People say stuff, but don't follow through. In fact, people say a lot of stuff, and are currently batting 0.0 at following through. Except maybe for Ravuya. He said he'd make a fucking game, and he delivered. On the game. Not the fucking. Whatever he does behind those doors are his business.

So I'm ranting about something you all have known for years. It's boring and egotistical of me, but c'mon. I seriously thought you all were better than that. If you're ever on my bad side, don't get mad at me for holding you to your word. Don't make vague promises. Don't bullshit. Say what you fucking mean.*

If that means you don't want to have anything to do with me, or you're just too busy to get out for the evening, don't just assume that I'll know that you're a liar. I hate being right. Let me know. Preferably ahead of time. So I don't end up wasting the entire night, like I did just now, waiting for you.


*Those of you in the online world are exempt. This applies to my locals only.

Dark Hunter of the Crosswalk

Well Trevor, here you go. I finally got that sketch put into photoshop. This is what I saw in my mind when you mentioned hitting something in the crosswalk. Frankly, I think it would look a lot better on the bumper of your car. It's... unnatural, and the stuff of nightmares.

I'm deathly afraid of dogs and wolves that are black, with red eyes, and sharp teeth.

Pains of being Healthy

So, I think I was actually about to fall ill yesterday. It would have been unavoidable if it had happened, since there's been a pretty bad bug going around work, etc. But fortunately, in my sleep, my body repelled the invasion, and I'm healthy again. Or so I thought.

When I sat up this morning, my throat wasn't sore, but pretty much everything else was. All of my muscles felt bruised, and sore, and just getting out of bed and walking was a painful ordeal. I've felt dead tired all day, even though I slept for more than 10 hours last night.

I think I've got all the crinks stretched out now, and I was trying to do some guitar stuff, but alas, my brother came home and literally played backseat guitar. He hasn't a clue, but still thinks himself in position enough to give orders. So, I hung the guitar up for today, and I've been here, behind this screen, since about 3:00 this afternoon.

Boy, hasn't today been great?

Space between my Ears

So, I didn't get to jam today. To be frank, even touching that guitar is better than any intimate things I've enjoyed in life thus far. The power and noise I'm able to put out with that thing amazes even me, and it's all the fun without the mess.

Well, and on to my day. I feel stupid. I came home, and I just couldn't put a thought through my brain that didn't die halfway. I swear, my experiences today actually made me dumber than when I woke up this morning. Can someone please pull me out of this funk? Please? Anyone? Some kind of mental stimulation, if you please.

As an added update to not one, but two previous rants, Discovery touched down today in California, and appeared to be in better condition than anyone originally thought. That's a load off all of our collective minds. Now, back to the drawing boards, NASA.

Rainy, grey, damp, cold. That's the weather. I feel like a potato left in a well too long. Please excuse me while I go to try and warm up in a frigid blanket while the temperature drops in here.

Ibanez

Just a little piece of my new guitar. I went down to Long and McQuaid, a local music joint to check out their deals. They didn't have much in the way of what I was originally looking for (scrapped the Raptor idea, and instead went looking for a Stratocaster). Well, they only had used Strats for under a grand, so I browsed around instead.

And then I found this. A matte black Ibanez, fits me like a... well. Yeah, it's just really comfortable to play. I picked up a practice amp for it too. The look on my neighbors' faces when I walked into my house with amp and guitar in tow was sheer terror.

I will try my hardest not to disappoint them.

This is the Rage

There is no kind of anger quite like this. This white hot rage against the unjust hiding behind legal justice.

Some people are just failures. That they get a law degree, and champion a cause fit for the 1700's is not something they should be proud of. Gamers everywhere should now be familiar with the name of Jack Thompson, a certified bar member and poseur crusader against video-games that sport violence and sex. Now, lets get one thing straight before we start. Threats are bad.

Onto more pressing matters. Mr. Thompson has taken it upon himself to champion the cause against the video-game industry. As if there was some kind of bogus conspiracy to corrupt America's youth with violence and sex (note Stars and Stripes flapping in the background). To see it from his point of view, game designers are making games that purposefully corrupt the tender minds of America's youth by exposing them to damaging scenes of violence and sex. God forbid the little bastards ever get in a barfight, or you know... have sex with a girl in Junior High (loud gasp). It happens, deal with it.

What about movies? Hmm? It's perfectly alright to have a non-interactive media that shows graphic dismemberment and graphic nudity... yes, brestesses of all things, in PG, ZOMG! Are there children seeing this? Of course. But the moment there's a controller involved, and the players has a choice, it suddenly becomes wrong?

Dan, follow me on this one. Mr. Thompson is kicking off a "scandal" against Killer 7, to have it forcefully removed from store shelves and the market altogether, for purported scenes of "violence, and graphic sex." Apparently, a rating of Mature isn't enough. It needs to be Adult Only. Uh huh. Because if a parent buys this game for their children, it's the developer's fault.

Maybe they'd like to pull Resident Evil 4 as well. I've never seen to many heads lost to chainsaws, and honestly, Ashley's undies are white satin. Oooooh... I'm so corrupted.

As far as I've seen, video-games don't make people killers. Preaching war, intolerance, and generally poor values makes people into killers. Being unstable makes people killers. Repeat it with me.

Videogames do not make people killers.
Videogames do not make children have sex.

Those two things were happening long before videogames, and will continue to happen long after I'm gone.

Mr. Thompson, if you somehow find your way to this little backwater blog, know that from my personal experience, this little "scandal" you are launching against Killer 7 will be nothing compared to the firestorm against you that you are ignorantly holding a match to. I don't say this as a threat, but rather as a roadside warning. You are catering to one lazy generation to infuriate the next. I don't think you need me to explain the foolishness involved with this. America already suffers from the worst transition from one generation to the next, and you are doing nothing, save furthering the rift between these irresponsible parents, and their awakening youth.

Traitorous

So, it seems it's been a pretty bad week for all of us. Scratch that. We'll make this the week that never should have happened. I'd be inclined to rant about my bad week, but it seems pretty trite of me to rant about little things, when there are things being stolen and there are people bleeding and suffering out there.

It's not fair.

"But Life's not fair. Deal with it," or so I've been told. It's funny, how whenever that comes out of someone's mouth, they really have no fucking clue what's going on. As if somehow their personal experiences lessen the impact of life changing events like a car crash, or the sudden death of a family member. As if, going through their own hell, they suddenly don't care about anyone elses. That we're somehow lesser than.

Is that how we should "deal with it?"

On another note, the Shuttle is coming down in a day or two. I'm hoping in one piece, but you never know. The shuttle itself should have never taken off in the first place, now that the engineering history of the craft is made apparent.

I'm surprised that there were no warning bells sounded earlier. Every time NASA has put one of these craft up, they've been showing a farce to the public, that they had confidence in these vehicles. Now, we see, that they were sitting on crossed fingers with every launch, and that every successful return was less a marvel of engineering, and more an act divine intervention.

I'm waiting to see how NASA will "deal with it." Especially on their peanuts budget that Bush keeps handing them.

The Edge is Blurred

Just as we arrived, we can also leave. Disappeared between the places. There are times when we fall to one side or the other, and in this world of stuff and lies, our light grows dim. In amongst the half-truths, and the material wealth, our conviction, and our purpose is diminished. The wounds of old cannot be mended here, because in this world, time is the healer.

Here, in the bright lights, our footsteps falter, and we can no longer find each other as we could out in the Void. We become wrapped up in this Place, and we forget.

We forget, until that cool darkness begins to breathe and grow again, and tug at our feet. Within us now, is a piece of that uncaring, that deep apathy. With every footstep we take away, it grows a little larger, and consumes a little of the light within us.

But it yearns. It yearns to return to that dark place where it was born, but in doing so, it risks its own destruction, for in the Void, we are no longer creatures of it's darkness, but rather beings of our own light.

And it is with us, that this line between light and dark becomes blurred, and harder to trod.

At the Edge of What is Not

The numbness is burnt away like hair in a fire. Before me; before all of us, this emptiness is not nothing. It's waiting to become something. While the space between parts is still great, every step we take together, every heartbeat that courses through us, burns away the nothing.

It is here, in the very heart of the uncaring, that we come alive. Where our once whole world came apart and gave birth to this quiet darkness, we tread, and in turn rend it asunder as was once done to ours. Although we tread alone, in this endeavor we are together, and on occassion, we find each other's footsteps among the stars and the cold. Within us glows the same purpose, the same benevolence, the same caring. Within us, it glows, but only in this dark place.

This is our purpose, and our place. We walk along the edge of this Void, and this World. At the very edge of what is, and what is not, you will find us, walking and thinking.

At Last

This cool, uncaring feeling is all around us now. I'm torn between fighting it, and letting it go.

It's all around me now, the fingers have become blankets. It would be impossible to think of anything else right now. My one good eye is all I can see with, and it is so heavy now. I think I'll just close it for a time...

If not for that glow, within me that still grows brighter. I can see it now, a warmth with no name. It does not burn, it does not sear. Only here can it be seen, and finally, it comes to the fore.

At last, I can see this light within me. Only amidst this darkness do I shine.

Falling Like This

Falling like this, I sometimes feel the cold, uncaring fingers of this place reach out to try and stop me. It won't stop me. Unlike it's twin of stuff and lies, there is a dark honesty here. It won't stop me.

It will wrap me up in it's numbing tendrils, and make me a part of it, and it a part of me. The numbness within has found the numbness without, and now the two seek to meet, if I let them.

Falling away like this, I feel more than ever, my sense of self, my sense of good. Here it burns brightly, in stark contrast to before, when it was but black and inert. I do not know. Perhaps this is the last flare goodbye, before everything that I am is swallowed by this darkness. And I become a part of it, consuming all the others who follow in my footsteps.

A new concept comes to me now.

Regret.

This is the Void

The journey of a lifetime...

Feelings wither away, spirited away on the black expanse. Notions disappear. Love, murdered by time. Liberty, eroded at birth. Self, consumed wholly.

The very fabric of what is, becomes torn. The blackness seeps through, until the world is torn in two, and the definitions drift apart like icebergs in the deep North. Where once there was one, there is now a duality.

Perhaps, now, at the edge of what is, we can enter the Void without that measures the Void within. An emptyness where... something should have been. We feed this Void with everything we can get. Love, Hate, Passion, Apathy, Wealth, Vanity, Grief. And yet it still grows and pulls at us, until finally we feed ourselves to it, throwing ourselves over the edge.

And now, in the Void, we tumble empty, until we reach the edge of What is Not.

Dark Outside

Uhh... I think there's a storm coming. What do you think?

I had to drive through this storm. Everything was going great, I had the wipers and the music at full blast, and then I hit a downdraft of intensly cold air. Now, we all know what happens to windows in the cold of winter. They fog up. Now, imagine your windshield going from clear to fogged too bad to see through... in less than 3 seconds. In the middle of summer.

Freaky. That's been one of the few times that I've had to pull off the road and put the hazards on. I'm a pretty good driver, but even the best can't drive if they can't see what's in front of them. Oh, and I would like to personally thank all those ignorant fuckers who never learned that in intense rainfall or inclement weather, headlights are mandatory.