No new horror pics today, it's kind of all over but the shouting. Or numbness and swelling, in this case. I'm moving on.

Inspired by a friend to read some classic lit-ra-chure, I read Sherwood Anderson's Winesburg, Ohio, this week. Despite Mr. Anderson's world view being 180 degrees from mine, I have to say I like his unemotional writing style. The biggest laugh I got out of the book was A's rant about the corruption of all this here materialism we got now since the post-Civil War technology boom. (The book was published in 1919.) Now, he's talking about Ohio, so he's not advocating a return to slavery, but one of the bad guys in the book is a young man who inherits his uncles' farm. He gets obsessed by it, builds an addition to his house so he can look out on the farm hands and animals, and repeatedly, "he thought about nothing but the farm". He walks along the valley and dreams that one day he'll own all the farms, which he eventually does. Remember, he's the bad guy. The good old days were when his four uncles worked the farm and it took up all their time and energy to clear rocks and tree roots by hand. They weren't a bunch of pansies sitting in a room thinking all day! More advice from Mr. Anderson--sex never leads to anything good. Not ever. Go exhaust yourself moving rocks in the fields instead.