New York Governor Resigns

After confessing to being involved in a prostitution ring, New York governor Eliott Spitzer resigned Wednesday. What do you think?

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Check me out
New Year’s Day. And with a nod of the head and a crack of the knuckles, I stopped smoking. It helps that I’ve had a cold, but I smoked through tonsilitis in my smoking heyday, if one can have a heyday so idiotically detrimental to one’s health, so this isn’t as big a factor as you might think. My wife remains, and who can blame her, sceptical: she’s heard all this before. I have tried to impress on her the difference between swearing on your unborn child’s life that you will stop smoking without any real intention of doing so, and the approach I’ve taken here and she isn’t, you know, appreciative of the nuance. And I guess one lie does end up resembling the next. But the logic to me seems strong and fairly obvious. It’s one thing to make a promise, in public, cornered, over dinner, and then cheerfully renege on it the next day, when no one’s looking, but when it’s just you in the room, and you’re listening to the crap sound your own air is making as it moves through your bronchial tubes, and you think of all the hassles and impracticalities smoking entails, the amount of chewing gum and after shave you’re getting though, the sheer tedium of freshening up all the time, you wonder what exactly you are doing this for. What a carry on! And for what? And the stakes, the stakes! So, you know: enough. A week ago, if you’d sprung this on me, I’d be going beserk within the hour. But I’ve got my mindset right. And really, no matter what people say, it isn’t so bad.

Cocaine galore! Villagers live it up on profits from ‘white lobster’
“To many, however, cocaine promises deliverance from poverty. Marvin Hoxton, 37, a lobster diver, once discovered a 72kg bale. Thieves forced him to hand over 70kg at gunpoint but he sold the remainder for $5,000. It lasted two months. “Drinking, dancing, women, the dollars fly,” he rued.”

No Mary, that was Tuesday!
I thought my Dad’s need to precisely place his stories on a particular day was weird (Seriously, Dad: You had a Danish in Sainsbury's. It's no loss to the story if I don't know the date), but last night I met a former trucker, who prefaced every tale from his trucking days with the gear he was in at the time. I kid you not. The gear.

Sly wit from the trial of Conrad Black
‘Invoices shown the jury were $33,000 for a a 1920s Chinese carpet, $9,600 for a Persian mother of pearl box, $9,000 for a pair of Louis XVI-style stools, and $17,710 for an Indian relief depicting elephants. There was a $12,500 invoice for a cabinet and shaving basin, a “mahogany barbiere with porcelain bottle that belonged to Naopolean during the campaign of Russia”.

Querying a $4,300 electric towel warmer, prosecutor Eric Sussman asked: “Did that come under capital improvement, decoration, or furniture to put the apartment in habitable condition?” Mr Williams replied: “I am not an expert in interior design, but I would probably classify that as decorating.” The trial continues.’

That Isaac Newton didn't know shit
Newton's Third Law states that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction, which makes me think he'd never been in a relationship, where the reverse is true. I overheard a couple arguing last week and it was like listening to a number double. Thinking: how on earth did they get here?

Over here!
Well, well, well. After a lengthy, unforced hiatus, I bring news from the Front. Well, Iceland actually. I recently downloaded an intriguing sounding album called Yesterday was Dramatic, Today is Okay, by the Icelandic band Mum. This is, I thought, what an album made by field mice would sound like. I picture some 1 inch drum kit and tiny speakers. But what a strange small racket they kick out!