The Birth, and Subsequent Death, of Pure Gold.

And now for something a little tiny bit different.

Today, yes, today, Thursday, September 9th, 2004, is the day I, Daytona Splendor, have turned over a new leaf. What occupies the underside of this fresh foliage, you ask? Correct grammar, spelling, punctuation, and yes, even correct use of capitals. Rather, not necessarily correct, but as close as I am willing to get. And I say willing as if I am actually capable of perfection, so keep that in mind. I would appreciate it if that wool stayed over your eyes.

Wow, it really feels great.

I purchased the new Modest Mouse CD yesterday, and let me tell you, that band is pure gold. In fact, they may be a baby made entirely of gold.

"What is it that makes a man dive in to a raging river to save a solid gold baby? Maybe we'll never know."
I think that's the question we all need to be asking ourselves, isn't it? I know I would save that baby. Wait, maybe that's the question we should be asking instead. Not the 'why' of it all but the 'would you' of it. Would you? Wuh Chew? Wood Jew? Hmm, I think I would take the Golden Baby over the Wooden Jew any day. Although, maybe this can be turned into a really good devotional thought.
Maybe the solid gold baby is the worldly ideal that we all want. The ultimate goal to which we all fall short of reaching. Maybe the solid gold represents the wealth and treasures available on this earth and the baby represents the youthful and optimistic schemes that we, as humans, pertain to. All of a sudden, there is this Wooden Jew thrown into the mix, but no one notices, because we are all too busy dreaming lustily about this Golden Baby of the World. The Jew is obviously a Christ symbol, well, maybe not that obviously, but regardless, he represents Christ. What do we do? Ignore the Wood, go for the Gold. Hmm, this isn't going as well as I had intended...
Well, I guess some devotional thoughts were just never meant to be. What we just witnessed was the complete failure of an idea once teeming with potential enlightenment. Tragic, no?

In tears,

Daytona Splendor