Tomorrow, dear reader, is the 29th day of February — a date that occurs every four years, more or less. Such calendar adjustments are necessitated by the ridiculously sloppy mathematical relationship between the length of a terrestrial day and the length of a year.
You know what that means, don’t you? Isn’t it obvious? It’s clear, undeniable evidence that the solar system, and therefore the whole universe, were not intelligently designed.
That conclusion was the decisive factor in your Curmudgeon’s decision to use this weekend as an opportunity to begin our spiritual journey. So we went to the train station. It was a grimy place, with strange people lurking around, but we were determined to proceed. We approached the ticket counter. “One ticket on the Glory Train,” we said.
The agent looked up at us with a bored expression. “We don’t actually sell those tickets,” he informed us. “The Conductor knows when you’re ready for your journey, and he’ll stop for you.”
“You mean … I just have to wait around here?” The agent shrugged.
We took a good look at the other passengers, sitting on uncomfortable benches. The thought of a long wait at this place wasn’t very encouraging. “Never mind,” we told him. “Perhaps this isn’t the right time.”
“As you wish,” the agent said. “But, you may end up on a train that goes … somewhere else.”
We thought about that. Then we thought about the 29th of February. Then we left the train station, determined never to return.
That creepy tale is all we’ve got for you today, dear reader, so we’re declaring this to be an Intellectual Free Fire Zone. We’re open for the discussion of pretty much anything — science, politics, economics, whatever — as long as it’s tasteful and interesting. Banter, babble, bicker, bluster, blubber, blather, blab, blurt, burble, boast — say what you will. But avoid flame-wars and beware of the profanity filters.
Okay, the comment section is open — have at it!
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