Here it is, another Monday. The weekend goes so freakin’ fast, even if I do nothing of any real significance. This morning is typical — foggy, overcast and a bit gloomy.

And another procrastinating weekend of domestic chores — this time around, I put off working by watching ‘30 Rock‘ on Netflix. Just getting toward the end of the first season in 2006, and this is real funny stuff of well-written antidotes and snappy dialogue delivered near-deadpan. (Jenna on ‘Hardball‘ is pure-pitch-perfect — was Tucker Carlson still considered a journalist back then?).
Tons of some great one-liners, and fairly topical.
Odd how such a great piece of TV entertainment lost its edge when it came to an end last year, a gray-washed shadow of its origins. One aspect I hadn’t noticed before was Kenneth at the beginning wasn’t such a major character as he became later on, and somehow, maybe this transformation diluted the concept, or something. The last couple of years are near-unwatchable.
But right now in the beginning, nothing better.

We start a new work week with most-likely more ugly shit to pop up before the next break, five days from now and another weekend — is it Friday yet?

(Illustration found here).

And this weekend is the first time in a long while I hadn’t posted anything. I just didn’t feel like writing. A peculiar sense that does come every so often where there’s no literary motivation to scribble shit, or do anything where I have to think, and work fingers on the laptop keyboard in coordination with those thoughts.
I spent a lot of time smoking cigarettes out on my tiny back patio — and the occasional bowl to whitewash the sun setting on this one incredibly, fucked-up world.
And the great wad of humanity has a clue to the horror coming, but can’t fathom the impact.

One biting overlay this weekend was a TED segment with Louise Leakey, paleontologist and grandchild to the famous archaeologist couple, Louis and Mary Leakey, and produces another nail in the wall.
Leakey paints a time sequence of life on this planet by the use of a roll of toilet paper cascading down a hillside with mankind on the last half of the very last sheet — nasty business here.
Via HuffPost:

Our own individual lifetimes cannot be depicted on this final sheet of the toilet roll as it would be too thin a line, yet we have been witness to more change to the planet, to the diversity of life, global climate and natural habitats in this same time period.
We are undoubtedly the cause of the sixth mass extinction event that the planet has seen in its history.

The word, ‘undoubtedly,’ confirms some type of set sequence to come.
Depressing in its reach.

Add to the glee, this little ditty from Emily Dickinson, aptly titled, “Pain” — short and herafter:

Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there were
A day when it was not.

It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain
Its past, enlightened to perceive
New periods of pain.

Now onward and outward into the pain, but just remember it’s only temporary.
Just keep Friday in sight.