I have a cracked rib. It's the result of a football tackle that involved myself and one Erik Wolfe moving at very high, very opposite velocities, with the main force of the impact delivered by his left shoulder and absorbed by my second rib on the right side. Erik's explanation ("I am a house, man") doesn't make any sense to me whatsoever and leads me to believe he has some unassuaged guilt about the whole episode.

   Also, Psalm 127 describes how vain it is for us to "eat the bread of sorrows." I took this to heart recently and decided that for me, any and all internet-based discussions about the existence of God, the veracity of the Bible, and the theology or practice of the Christian faith are bread of sorrows to me, and I will no longer be reading or taking part in them. They cause me to weep and tear my hair out. I seriously do not want to talk about it. On the internets. Maybe in real life.

   On a related note, you will all probably have better lives if you watch this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YtwDTXlRY8M . That is all.