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Living like Shrödinger's cat Just got back home. Or ... to the home where we used to live, but still do, when we're not where we live now except that we're not there. We're ... here. Wherever this is. Or was, by the time you read it. Maybe what we call life is where our souls are stored before they're forwarded. Maybe God is Who. The answer to the Mystery is a Mystery. With a lisp, Mythtery.
Maybe Chris Pirillo of Lockergnome fame. My first email upon arrival a few minutes ago was from Chris, whom I have never met ("Long time, never hear," was his salutation), and who points us to the Libera Manifesto. Lots of good stuff there. I'd wage a digression, but I have to go meet with Eazel. More later.
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