I will be brief: There is much speculation about the question of divinity within Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.
I know most of you don't care, I'm just trying to show you how brief works.

Lightrail.

Today on the lightrail:
Woman with a lot of Groceries: Hi, can I sit here?
Joanna: Yes.
Grocery Bag Woman: Thanks. I just got done shopping.
Joanna: Yes I can tell. Your bags smell like frozen pizza.
Grocery Bag Woman: Ha, Would you mind holding one?
Joanna: a pizza?
Grocery Bag Woman: No a bag.
Grocery bag woman proceeds to drop grocery bag of frozen pizza in Joanna's lap on top of her Latin homework. Joanna begins to shiver from the ice in her lap. Joanna smells like frozen pizza for the rest of the day and her pants remain wet for a few hours. She loves the lightrail mucho.
Note: The photo above has nothing to do with the lightrail.

Glass Families and Banana Fish.

Ladies and gentlemen, one of my favorite writers of all time died today: J. D. Salinger. I don't know why, but there was something incredibly exciting about reading about the Glass family and knowing that the author who created them was still alive, hoveled away in his rural Cornish shell. Most of the works I read today are written by authors who have been dead for centuries, which is fine by me because I rather enjoy reading Ovid and Virgil. Still, I feel Salinger was a rare breed, and that I need to light candles and mourn his loss while wiping my tears with some pages from his Catcher in the Rye, or something dramatic like that.

Herman Melville

"All men live enveloped in the whale-lines. All are born with halters round their necks; but it is only when caught in the swift, sudden turn of death, that mortals realize the silent, subtle, ever-present perils of life."
— Herman Melville

You can study too much.

My eyes are burning two holes into the computer screen from staring at my microsoft word document for hours without end. So, I resorted to ffffound, where I found this picture, and a few minutes of visual relief. I highly suggest this website if any of my two readers ever feel like their eyes are about to rupture from their skull, leaving chasms where all the things that they have just studied can begin to spew out of. That's right, I ended my sentence with a preposition. chaos.

Martin De Thurah. Ya, yes it's human.

Carpark North “Human”. video done by Martin De Thurah. I watched his short film "We Who Stayed Behind" and some of his other stuff this weekend and competely fell in love.

This is what a mistake looks like:

Ten points to anyone who can guess which wall I like, and which walls I loathe, despise, hate...

I know, it's kind of a tough call. Hopefully my displayed typography: "SOS, international distress signal" expressed my feelings clear enough.