Here I am...

Not knowing exactly why i created this public forum for rants and raves. I feel like a victim of must-feel-meaning-by-forcing-opinions-on-others syndrome. Today i wrote a seriously weak-sauce stage-style paper for Great Ideas. Trying to meld humor and Epictetus works about as well as watching Napoleon Dynamite to get meaning in life. Although i can imagine some people think it is pretty profound. To you, I say " ." Not worth my typing, but notice how i put the end punctuation inside the quotation mark.

I fully intend to never capitalize my first person subjective pronouns here, and i hope to make posts that make even Sam a little jealous, ok then, maybe David Foster Wallace, ok, maybe i'll stick with Sam.

Question of the Day: If a white playwright wrote Othello in the year 2005, what would become of him?