to know when to stop

I still don't understand the lesser-of-two-evils logic in politics, I don't care who's got the kill lists, who's doing the bombing, what particulars of morality they purport to care about, because let's be honest, words and platitudes don't mean shit. You can tell me all the sweet nothings you want, but if you're stabbing me in the back at the same time who cares?

 I don't fear the wingnuts any more than I fear the ones who wring their hands a little more before they pull the trigger. My politics are not so ideologically skewed so much as virulently agnostic and so when I see myself going down this well-traveled lot of pay-no-attention-to-the-man-behind-the-curtain-look-at-that-crazy-wackjob-over-there, I get to the point where I have to change the subject to something else.

Anyways, I played music this morning. I got some phone calls, and evidently some loyal listeners in Deutschland. Someone requested The Sundays, which might have seemed incongruous to some wedged in between the doom metal and whatnot. I figure good music is good music and it works to my ears.