No stories from an abbreviated evening in SF. None worth telling.
It is Easter weekend here. I believe that we're the only ones celebrating. I haven't checked my facts yet. I don't care for the unfortunate way in which facts sometimes cause discord. There appears to be another flood on its way. It will rain all weekend. The famed deluge.
I heard a good youtube clip the other day from Christopher Hitchens. I have never read his book, God Is Not Great, though I've felt that the title goes on one word too many to make its point.
If you decide to watch the video do so without watching it. The audio is better than the video.
I'm not in the mood this morning to discuss theism, or the lack thereof, with myself. There will already be too much of that to go around this weekend. He is risen yet again, unlike clockwork. Easter is a moveable feast, it seems to sneak around the month of April, occasionally rising in March.
I had looked forward to getting pictures of the little waddling Rhys, searching and hopefully finding a few colored Easter eggs. I have no desire to rob him of that experience, at all. Children should be safely exposed to the fantastical and improbable. A human sized bunny... what a thing that is.
I couldn't decide if I preferred the black and white version of the image or the color. Not wanting to be an unwavering fundamentalist I've published them both.
I wonder how long I'll live.
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