When I was a kid and I couldn't sleep, I would sometimes bring my transistor radio to bed with me, plug in the mono earplug and quietly listen to all manner of programming. I especially liked to listen to obscure AM band stuff like the kooky "Dr. Demento" radio show, broadcasting (syndicated) from Culver City, California, and also stuff like the then-dying, now-totally-dead art of radio plays. But some nights, the air would be so crystal clear that I could play around with the AM tuner and find faint signals peeking almost shyly through the static. The volume dial would have to be up to near maximum, making the static deafening, but then ever so gently I could coax a signal from the mess by tuning the tuner wheel ever so slowly. I once got a French-language station all the way from Quebec...on my cheap little AM radio in Rhode Island!Recent happenings have made me think of this analogy because like those midnight signals poking through the crackling dead air, I find that the Universe is helping me fine tune my Life Receiver to hunt down a good frequency.
I wish I could elaborate more on this but as I'm right in the midst of this signal flux, I'm not sure any example presented now would stay stable enough to last a week, or even a day.
I can only communicate...like a weak signal through heavy static...in semi-meaningless word vignettes.
whir-errr-wheee-eeer......gout's now not gout......downgrade from Bud to Busch......No Soup For You!......the "out of shape" comment flack......commencement of the Direct IP Clash of the Titans......the brief return of the pod-person......re-admission to the Florida Teat Sucklers Club?......Mose must be on dope......ugh, the 90's are back, not the decade, the temps......whir-errr-wheee-eeer