I just got back from Galway. The Arts Festival was going on, so there were lots of plays and hippies lining the streets. But man, those are some pretty hippies you've got there, Galway. We took a ferry to a small island called Inish Moor, then rented bicycles and rode them along the edges of the island-the most scenic fucking bikeride that you will ever take. At the top of Dun Aengus, a cliff with a 70 foot drop, charging sigils and trying to remember memory patterns in stone. Learning to breathe. Finding, killing, gutting and eating God. Statues of Celtic Gods on the roads, with crucifixion statues down a little bit longer. And yes-there were pretty white ponies. I wanted to whip out a gameboy and start playing ms.pacman, it was that beautiful.

I'd write more extensively but I just got back a few hours ago and about 10,000 ideas for a column that I want to write next semester, if I find the time, have been running through my head. It's hypbole and reductio ad absurdum, really fun caricatures of post-whatever the fuck culture codes. I want it to be headscratchingly weird and very funny. I've been thinking of either calling it "Pirate Logic" or "Up Yer Dad". Up Yer Dad was the first thing that came to mind-it's a great sounding name for a column, I think. Anyway, it's almost 11 and I have to run out and get some drinks before the pubs close.

Fuck off.