Note: This entry is not meant to be profound, nor even witty. It's just some unpolished crap that's rolling around in my brain and needs to come out. Then maybe I can write something fun.

EPITAPH

The wall on which the prophets wrote
Is cracking at the seams
Upon the instruments of death
The sunlight brightly gleams
Where every man is torn apart
With nightmares and with dreams
Will no one lay the laurel wreath
When silence drowns...

As I was composing this post, it became apparent that I was going into waaaay more detail than most readers would be interested in. So I deleted a lot of what I was going to say. So here's what I was about to blather on (and on and on and on) about, and more! Hooray!

Steppenwolf, a film adaptation of the Hermann Hesse novel, was released in 1974. The wiki entry is pretty lean. The last paragraph says:
...

I got yet another follow-up email from my brother, who gave me this fun factoid.

My GGG Grandfather's unit, the 2nd Texas Mounted Rifles, is famous for having a captain of one company who was arguably the strangest dressed of the War. Gaze upon Captain Samuel Richardson, "Mr. Jaguar Skinned Trousers," and swoon:



Note that the holsters are of the same skin....

My brother sent me a huge-assed email with his rather exhaustive research on what our triple-great-grandfather did during the Civil War years, as well as what happened in his general vicinity. He hung around, had a few laughs, killed some people, and may or may not have participated in wholesale slaughter of Native Americans under bullshit justifications.

Anyway, I thought some of you history perverts might enjoy some of this. I'm doing a full copypasta of my brother's composition,...

So the wife started a Facebook page a couple months back. Within freaking hours, people from her past, and some from our shared past, came out of the woodwork. Even my 70-plus-year-old kung fu teacher has a friggin' Facebook page.

It's a wonderful way to reconnect with old friends and acquaintances from your past. People thought to be long gone and forgotten can suddenly become part of your present.

Which is why I will never, NEVER start a Facebook page.