Brain static is the random electrical activity that happens in my head when the rest of me is at rest, the sputterings of a loose connection. I am pleased to share these neuronal discharges with you; why should I suffer alone? If you wish to retaliate--I mean respond--feel free to do so. I've taken out the response buttons due to overwhelming public apathy, but you can send me a note from the home page.

February 3

I had a little time to kill between classes so I wandered into the college bookstore, where you can browse through sweatshirts and snacks, pens, paper, padlocks and packing boxes—just about anything, in fact, except books. About a third of the bookstore’s floor space is devoted to books, stacked neatly on shelves and arranged by subject, but the area is cordoned off with ropes.

The clerk told me they only sell books during the first two weeks of school.

When I recovered from my stupefaction and asked why, she gave me that look, the one reserved for the feeble-minded, out-of-touch elderly, and explained: “It’s always been that way.”

The opinions expressed herein are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect--well, yes, come to think of it, I guess they do.

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