"It's *IMMORAL*!" they cry. And you *know* what they're thinking: "Only God can make a baby!", and, "I know *exactly* what God thinks about *this*!" I'm talking about the clone babies, of course. Interestingly(?) it seems to be the same old anti-choice people thumping on the same old bible. (By the way, didja notice that the guy who won the powerball lottery in West Virginia was already a millionaire? There is no justice. See what happens when you let the repiglicans run the country?) I had a hard time getting to sleep last night, tossing/turning until probably midnight, but I got up on time OK, and had a pretty dull day at work. Well, it wasn't all that dull, I figgered out how to do a kinda tricky combination exam, so there were ten exciting minutes in that eight hours somewhere.... I got to come home on time, and Karen had been babysitting with Drew all day, and she had to go to a party that several ladies at work were giving her. She had to leave before Karla picked Drew up, since it was in an unfamiliar neighborhood and she wanted to get there before dark. When she got home, she said that she'd had a good time, even with them praying over her... two of the women are married to preachers, it seems. Meanwhile, I stayed home and watched a coupla football games, or parts of them anyway. Nothing to get really excited about. I keep wondering when my intellectual side is going to kick in so I can quit watching these damned games, and then I wonder if I even *have* an intellectual side. And then I start wondering if the football side of me is fake, or am I just totally fake in every direction? Psudointellectualism is a real thing and a great danger to those in the immediate vicinity of those who are afflicted. So, am I a psuedointellectual, or am I a pseudo-redneck? I think that I can fool all of the real rednecks all of the time (but then, who can't?) and I can probably fool half of the real intellectuals half of the time... but the real intellectuals can fool me all of the time, and the real rednecks can always kick my ass. There's a special niche in there for me, and it's worked for lots of years... but I can't ever really know what it is, or how it got there, other than just as a survival mechanism. And I've survived. More than just surviving, I've enjoyed it all. Yes, I am. And I will continue doing that, yes, I will.