Diary Without Comment: Archive




Hey kids! Let's play "Add a new word to the English language"!

First, make something up. Now stick it in a high profile news story.

Try one: "suborn".


Top Ten Records of 1997

  1. "Walking On The Sun" by Smash Mouth
    Frat rock!! Frat rock!!!
  2. "Criminal" by Fiona Apple
    Cher sings for the Beatles
  3. "Breathe" by Prodigy
    ...and I didn't have to smack anything to like it.
  4. "The Perfect Drug" by Nine Inch Nails
    Gee, maybe Trent could show Bowie a thing or two.
  5. "Brick" by the Ben Folds Five
    "I'm Not In Love 1997"
  6. "Naked Eye" by Luscious Jackson
    Runner up: "Let It Snow"
  7. "Female Of The Species" by Space
    Memo to Space: More songs like that one, please...
  8. "Pearl's Girl" by Underworld
    At least now you can spell the band's name.
  9. "Setting Sun" by the Chemical Brothers
    With the "nice" Gallagher.
  10. "BBC" by Ming Tea
    Just because.


So, the Pentium has another bug.

How high do you suppose this house of cards can get, hmm?


A Short Quote:

Spice Girls' videos are like porn movies, except porn movies had better soundtracks.

-Phil Spector


A short baby appreciation moment:

My 16-month-old daughter spent a good twenty minutes investigating various permutations of laundry basket, doll, pillow, blanket, and herself. When she finally got comfortable, the whole mess tipped over and she had to start over again.

Any analogies to life in general are left up to the reader.


It's Halloween.

Jeez, am I tired. It doesn't matter, though. I'm determined to get a glimpse of the Great Pumpkin, and I'll stay up all night if I have to.


I'm going to go out on a limb here and recommend that martinis be made with Bombay Sapphire gin.

I will not, however, recommend having to wake up afterward.


Lately, it has apparently become impossible to comment on anything without winkingly couching the comment in a cozy buffer of irony. I'm as guilty of it as anyone else, but the net result is that it's difficult to take anything seriously.

I guess I'm just getting cynical about irony.


Some statistics:

Sales to date of the Elton John CD single that features "Candle In The Wind '97": 31.5 million, surpassing sales of "White Christmas" (30 million sold since 1955.)
Estimated decrease in sales of the CD if Elton John hadn't included two of his other songs: 0
Estimated amount of royalties, profits, etc. from the sales of the CD that will not be dedicated to Diana's Memorial Fund: About 66%.
Total amount of the CD list price that can be considered "profit", after the manufacturers and distributors take their cut: Less than 5%

Target Stores initially declined to donate their profits from sales of the CD to the Memorial Fund, stating that they routinely donate 5% of their profits to charity. Maybe they had the right idea.


I'm trying to design a crime. A nasty, horrible, tasteless, twisted, evil crime. The kind of crime that would set the tabloids afire and keep pundits talking for months on end. The kind of crime that would cause the public to beat down the doors of the legislature in an effort to severely punish the perpetrator of this heinous affront to individual liberty and society in general.

The reason I'm trying to invent the crime is that I've already invented the punishment. Problem is, I can't think of anything bad enough to merit the sentence of sitting in coach on Continental from Newark to O'Hare and back again.


I think I'm finally getting to the point where I can actually make a schedule and stick to it. I'm getting better at planning ahead, meeting deadlines, and showing up promptly for appointments. Yessir, I think I'm finally getting control of my life.

[There will be no diary for 10/21/97 due to unforseen circumstances.]


The newspaper is becoming a burden. It demands time to read it, and it demands attention when it comes time to dispose of it. Plus it turns your fingers black.

Telemarketers can never seem to get a handle on why you wouldn't want to get the newspaper they're selling. Then again, they're paid to ignore your needs. If telemarketers could just figure out the simple trick of knowing what I want, when I want it, they might have something. They'd need a bigger R&D budget, of course.


Created "Diary Without Comment". World peace sure to follow.