The primitives are going amok this morning, with the Big Zero putting cuts in Social Security and Medicare on the table; wait until they find out he's going to have to put a lot more than this on the table.
Anyway.
Today marks a certain anniversary.
On July 7, 2005, multitudes of primitives said that the recently-late red round one would be in their hearts and minds forever; they'd never forget him, they'd remember him every day of their lives.
And so for the next four July 7ths, there was always a campfire on Skins's island remembering the late red round one.
But on the fifth anniversary, July 7, 2010, no one remembered.
And so decent and civilized people had to remember the late red round one themselves.
(It's true that many hours on, there appeared a brief campfire on Skins's island commemorating the late red round one, but that appeared long after the one here, and was obviously inspired by the one here.)
Well, here it is, the sixth anniversary, and the primitives aren't remembering the late red round one.
One wonders what's up with that.
A little anecdote, if one has the patience; in late July 2005, I finished an accounting project for a Roman Catholic mission in South Dakota. When they were ready to write me out a check, I stayed their hand.
I said to make the check out only for my claimed expenses, and to use the rest so as to have Masses for the repose of the Immortal Soul of the late red round one.
I said I supposed that would cover Masses into the next six or seven July 7ths.
No, I was told; it would cover them into perpetuity.
