A Nice Little Bit of Sophistry(From a burned out law student)

This sentence is a lie.

I'll use the following definitions:

TRUTH--Binary 1. Correct as a proposition. Exists.

FALSE--Binary 0. Can be stated as NOT. Negation.
LIE--Opposite of TRUTH. Is the conjunction of mathematical falsity(FALSE) and propositional correctness, i.e. NOT TRUTH.

Beginning from the sentence's internal logic: If the sentence is a LIE, then we can infer that "it is FALSE that it is TRUTH". We rewrite the sentence as: "This sentence is NOT TRUTH" or "This sentence is FALSE".

As the sentence states it is a LIE, but is NOT TRUTH and FALSE*, we can clearly negative it to get a TRUTH, since the opposite of a LIE is TRUTH, and negativing creates an opposite. Negativing "This sentence is a lie," we get "This sentence is a TRUTH."

Since the sentence states that it is a LIE, or the opposite of the TRUTH, the sentence is externally seen to be FALSE as a proposition.

To be FALSE as a proposition is to be the opposite of TRUTH, or a lie. So, we can say with some certainty that it is TRUTH that the sentence is a LIE.

The sentence states that it is a LIE.

Thus, the sentence is TRUTH.

Stop.

The Sidekick Incident

So, there's this interesting event that is making some waves in the internet community, what will inevitably become known as the 'Sidekick Incident' in the future. Apparently some girl found a sidekick in a taxi, and rather than return it to the owner, who sent many text messages, even offering a reward, she just replied with intransigent threats and illiterate attempts to justify keeping the phone that was now 'hers.' Because of the sidekick's ability to record the aol screen name and other info on the people using the phone, which information is then stored on T-Mobile's central servers, when the owner got a new sidekick, she was able to see everyhting the thieves had been doing with the stolen one, thus giving quite a few clues as to their identities.

A friend of the owner posted a blog about this event, at http://www.evanwashere.com/StolenSidekick/ and has been getting a lot of attention. The myspace pages of thieves were posted, the fake address they gave, as well as a bunch of really shitty photos they took with the stolen phone. Also, a link to a video that the girl who stole the phone had put up on myspace about a month before the phone was stolen was posted.

This video link is actually the topic of this little diatribe of mine. THe video, located at http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=743388586&Mytoken=8DCE707B-C335-14D8-099AEAB2528135642754597 is fairly mindane little bit of bad ass-shaking by the 16 year old thief and her 14 year old friend, all set to bad music and occasionally complimented with their bad english. The video itself is unremarkable--hundreds like it must exist all over myspace. But the comment log is itself something rather amazing. At the start of it, are just 4 or 5 comments from the thief's friends at around the time the video was first posted. As of 6-07-06, when the blog went up detailing the sidekick theft, an avalanche of comments begins. Starting with many pleas for the phone's return, evolving into all kinds of ad hominem attacks on the girtls themselves, comments like "I think i threw up in my mouth a little," to glee at the immense trouble the thief will be in soon(the blog noted that the police have been notified and are instructing him how to proceed), such as 'Hahaha you're going to get soooooo much shit soooooooo quickly.' There were an assortment of absolutely revolting pornographic images, mostly posted 15-20 at a time so they took up an entire page of comments: one, a syphilitic penis and the sores all over it, another, the infamous goatse. There was pride that a stupid thief was being caught and outsmarted by a savvy nerd: 'internet > you' THere were even plenty of racial epithets: from latinos or hispanics telling the girl she was making them all look bad, to comments about how they are a couple of 'dumbinicans', to 'DEPORT THESE ILLITERATE ILLEGAL ALIENS BACK TO THE SHANTYTOWN SHITHOLE IN MEXICO THAT THEY CAME FROM.'

In short, a video posted well before the theft, and really having no connection to it other than that one of the girls in it is allegedly the thief(I say allegedly, as there seems to be discussion as to whether it really is her, and the original blog only provides a link; no evidence), has become a sort of modern-day pillory. This is really somewhat of a unique phenomenon. Besides disregarding the fact that there hasn't been any sort of trial and that in America criminals are innocent until proven guilty, the commentors seem to have taken it into their own hands to dish out the punishment as well. To some extent this is sparked on by the orginal blog itself, whose stated goal is to make the perpetrators feel so ashamed that they are forced to return the phone, but even the blog's author asks that people be at least somewhat respectful, to leave race out of it, and has also asked that people not 'run by' the thieve's home in NYC, as has been suggested by some of his readers.

Is this wrong or right? There is no phenomenon like the pillory in today's society. Punishment is for the large part meted out in silence, time is served behind bars away from the eyes of the public. True, there are certain parallels between the internet response and the media circus that sometimes surrounds high-profile cases. But there's nothing high-profile about this--people find and keep expensive things in the back of cabs all the time. The only unique thing here is that the technology allowed the thief to be identified.

The vitriol springing up against the thieves is astounding. From the sounds of the blogs, they really do deserve our contempt, but for hundreds of non-involved parties to go out of their way to mock and deride the hapless crooks seems all out of proportion to the crime committed. Beyond being a testament to the ease of communication over the internet, this is seemingly a proof of the sense of justice that really pervades our society. What is happening here is not the justice of the courts, the justice of the law, but rather the mob imposed justice of ridicule and shame that had heretefore gone the way of the true pillories of dark ages europe.

3 Weeks, Condensed

It's been a while, so here's a quick breakdown of everything that's happened since I got back from New York and DC:

* Brittany came back from Uruguay with some sort of flu/cold and gave it to me. I've been sick as hell and am finally getting better. I've been going to work for the most part anyways(only missed one day!) but it's made the past couple weeks rough.

* Brittany had an awesome time over spring break and was primed to talk about it in every conversation for at least a week. I think she's totally sure she wants to take a year abroad in South America at some point, she's just trying to figure out when.

* I decided to accept Fordham's offer of admission and sent in my first deposit. AMAZINGLY, the next day I got an e-mail from their financial aid office telling me that they are awarding me a $7,500 per year merit-based scholarship, for all three years I am there. That was, by far, the most shockingly good news I have heard in a very long time.

* Brittany's roommate Laurel suddenly and unexpectedly went batshit crazy and decided she needed to move out, basically telling Brittany that she should trade apartments with me. She actually yelled that at her while I was sitting right there, talking about me in the third person, and never quite got around to asking me if it would be alright. Well, anyways, it did turn out to be the most expedient route, because Brittany's going crazy and needs someone to move in with her if Laurel moves out, which is inevitable at this point. So, long story short, I'm moving from Duck's Village to Brittany's apartment downtown and swapping leases with Laurel. I'm gonna miss living with Gabe, Mike, and Brandon, but I had to get Brittany's back on this or she'd be pretty screwed. Right now I'm in the process of moving all my junk, trying to get it done by next weekend.

I think that's about it for the major events of the past few weeks.

Travel Hell

So we left off and I was just getting to Dulles airport...

My ticket to Las Vegas, where I was supposed to transfer to a flight to Eugene, said United Airlines. Prominently. On the first line. WIth no other airlines listed anywhere.

Like an idiot. I believed my ticket, and so I stood in line at the United ticket counter for 45 minutes. At the ticket counter, they explained that although my ticket said United, it actually meant US Airways, and so I'd have to go there instead. I complied, walking briskly across Dulles' huge terminal, and naturally, the US Airways rep explained to me that I'd have to go to even further, to the America West ticket counter, because they had merged and I'd actually be on their airline instead. United is at the furthest possible position from America West i at Dulles. I'd estimate it was about a quarter of a mile walk, and I was encumbered by two very heavy bags. I go to the America West ticket counter at 8:03.

My flight being at 8:30, they calmly explained that I missed the 30 minute cutoff and they wouldn't let me check-in. There was no way I'd be able to get to the gate fast enough, they said, and there's no chance they'd even let me try. It would be a disservice to me if they did, they said.

I completely lost my shit, essentially demanding, pleading, begging that they just check me in. They're wasting valuable time, I tried to expalin, there's still 27 minutes, I can make... Then there were only 25 minutes.. then only twenty, and then they asked me to leave.

I called orbitz, screamed at them for a while, and they refused to take responsibility. "I'm flying America West, but my ticket says United.. You put the wrong airline on my ticket, so it's your faultthat I missed my flight I told them." "The ticket is supposed to say United," they rejoined, "They're the issuing airline!" "But it's misleading to put the wrong airline front and center on a ticket! You put the wrong information there!" "No," they replied, "We put the right information there, and we're not going t argue with you about that. You should have paid closer attention. It's all in the service agreement you clicked next on."

I gave up. It was 8:25, my flight still ahdn't left, but there of course there was no way I'd be getting on it. I went back to teh ticket counter and asked to reschedule my flight. THey were nice enough to waive the $150 change fee, and set me up to go Phoenix at 7AM the next day, and fly standby to Eugene once I go there. I called Mr. Cimino-Hurt, and like the hero that he is, he came and picked up, aying he didn't mind driving me back to the airport at 6 the next day.

Fast forward to 6 the next day. I check in, and then start my stopwatch. I walk deliberately to security. THey pat me down, the whole deal. They single me out for special inspection, swab everything for explosives, and riffle through my belongings. Stopwatch is ticking.

I walk to the shuttle to my flight, wait for it to leave, and then exit it when it reaches the proper terminal. I heave my enormous bags to the gate, and take a seat while I wait to board. 17 minutes had passed since I left the check in counter. Bastards.

The flight to Phoenix was uneventful. I slept most of the way because I was exhausted, and when we got to Phoenix, I had plenty of time to get to the gate where my standby flight was leaving from. I was one of the first ones there, but when I asked the gate agents if I was going to get on, they explained that the flight was overbooked, so it would take an act of God for me to make the flgiht. I bought a cinnabon for breakfast, and I waited. Julie Portnoy walked by, and she was taking the flight. We said hello. She got on board the aircraft, since she had a real ticket and wasn't on standby. I ate my cinnabon and watched a fligt going to Eugene take off without me.

The next flight to Eugene wasn't until 5:30, 6 hours later. So I sat around, read a little, and waited some more. Around 4:30 the gate agents came to the gate so I asked them if I might make this flight. It was even more severely overbooked. Furthermore, the next flight to Eugene from Phoenix wasn't until TUESDAY NIGHT. I sat at the gate, and chatted with Mark Johnson, a philosophy proffessor who was on the flight. The whole time the gate agent was asking ticketed passengers to give up their seats because they were so badly oversold. I could tell I wasn't getting on this flight, either. Eventually professor Johnson boarded the plane. Eventually the plane took off, and again I saw my ride home leave without me.

The only way to get back home was going to be to go to Las Vegas, wait 26 hours, then catch a flight that miraculously had 1 seat still open. Fortunately, my grandma lives there so I had a place to stay, and I actually had a decent time visiting with her for a day.

I only had one more flight left, but of course there was no way it could go smoothly. I got to the airport with about an hour and twenty minutes, waited in line for 50 minutes, then asked an agent if there was any way she could help me get to the front of the line, because I thought I'd miss my flight. SHe just laughed at me and shrugged. I was freaking out and thought I could feel an ulcer start to develop, when another agent who had overheard came up and actually tried to help. SHe checked me in, and then told me I probably wouldn't make it, but I had better go as fast as I can if I want any chance. There was no way I was going to miss this flight, so again I went as fast as I could to security, where, of course, they decided to give me the 'extra inspection.' They made me unpack everything, they even confiscated my tiny swiss army knife, which I'd been flying around the entire country with and no one had bothered me about before, even in my last flight where I was given the special treatment as well. I thought they had reformed the laws a litte, guess not. ANyways, when they were finally done with me I was again sprinting down the terminal, still lugging around all my clothes and the ten pound paperweight that used to be my laptop. Breathless and sweaty I made it to the gate just in time. I think sitting down on the too-small seat on the little regional jet was probably the happiest single moment of my trip. Secure in the knowledge that I'd actually be getting home that night, I took a deep breath and relaxed.

The next few days...

So, the rest of my trip was pretty nice-- I had good times in New York, hung out with Gavin on Tuesday, and then that night had dinner with my cousin Allison. I spent all day Wednesday at Fordham attending the admiited students day. It was really quite impressive.

THen I started having some real bad luck.

I should have known something was wrong when my laptop stopped working entirely on Wednesday evening. I was just sitting in Yerachmiel's apartment in Brooklyn surfing the web and it totally stopped responding. Cursor was frozen, alt-tab, ctr-alt-del, nothing. I finally did a hard shut-down, and when I tried to reboot I didn't even get a bios. I wasn't able to get any response out of it, no matter how I tried to reboot, restart, anything. I am pretty sure either the processor or motherboard just gave up. That was pretty disappointing. I'd had that laptop since freshman year and have replaced many components. I think now it's finally dead for good. Rest in peace, Little Computer that Could.

So, the next day another funny thing happened. I lazed around the apartment until about 90 minutes before my flight, then Yerachmiel and I started to drive to JFK. It was pretty nasty traffic, but we got there with about 25 minutes to go 'til my flight. I checked my ticket to see which airline I'd be taking so we eent to the right terminal, and it was about then that I realized I was supposed to fly out of Laguardia. Oh, shit.

Yerachmiel had no idea how to get there, and of course neither did I, but I broke out my handy subway map(which happens to ahve a few major surface streets as well) and frantically told Yerachmield to get on the Van Wyck, which would take us in more or less the right direction. Yerachmiel called one of his friends, and he told us which exit to take. We go to LaGuardia with about 10 minutes to go, I jumped out, ran to the front of the line, bolted through security and sprinted to the gate. I didn't check any luggage, so I was carrying everything--including my 10lb laptop which was now total dead weight. I made it with seconds to spare, got on the plane, and, of course we waited on the tarmac for about 40 minutes to take off.

When I landed in DC, I had to find transportation. There are signs everywhere at Dulles saying to only take authorized taxi services(I think the airport gets kickbacks), and at the taxi place there was guy giving out flyers, so I grabbed one, he wrote something on it, and told me where to go. I looked at the back and it said it'd be around $50(est.) to get to DC and they charge by the mile and by the minute. So I looked for other options, and found a huttle service hidden in the corner that would get me to my hotel for $27. It's a good thing i did that, because the 2 hour ride through the worst bumper to bumper traffice I have seen anywhere, Los Angeles included, would have probably cost me over $150 if I had taken the airport taxi.

My hotel was crappy, really more of a hostel than anything else, but I figured it would be since the room was only $50 a night. TO give a poignant example of just how run down it was though: the bathroom sink was the kind with a procelain base that is supposed to extend down to the floor. The procelain base on this one wasn't long enough, so it was sitting on top of a cut-down two-by-four. Really a classy fix-it job, if you ask me.

I went to a bar nearby for dinner and a beer, and talked to some of the locals. None of them really had much to say about American University, which I was going to visit, but they made DC sound a lot more livable than I had imagined. I guess it's gotten much better in the past few years.

Next morning, I cram onto the subway at 7AM to get to the American Law campus. Their presentation was nice, and it definitely gave me something to think on. I really will need to make a hard decision, because American seems to stack up to Fordham better than I though it might. I cut out early to go visit Mr. Cimino-Hurt, who was a teacher at my high school, my advisor, and also the Sensei of our Karate team. He lives in Virginia now, ao I made the trip out there by subway and he picked me up.

It was really cool to see him and his family. His wife was also a teacher at my high school, and really cool, and I'm friends with his sons Alex and Robyn, although only Robyn was home. We had dinner and he drove me to the airport, where I arrived with about 70 minutes to go before my flight...

well, i'm finally back in Eugene after

first day in new york

i landed at newark at like 7:30...i slept a little on the plane but not much, and was so beat... i only got 3 hours of sleep on the plane and it was 4am eugene time. so i got on the train and it took me about 3 hours and plenty of transfers to get to crown heights. when i got off the subway there yerachmiel wasn't answering his phone right away so of course within two minutes a chasid came out of nowhere and asked me if i wanted to wrap tefillin, so i was like 'sure,' and we went into 770 to git 'r done.

when that was done with i went outside, and yerachmiel was actually right there calling me(he had been inside 770 as well) we walked the ten or so blocks back to his pad and dropped off my stuff, then went out for some breakfast.

yerachmiel had to work so i walked over to the subway and rode to penn station. i got out and was walking around 7th street and the fashion district, which was my first time above ground in manhattan. it was SO COOL. i ended up going into macy's to get a dress shirt to put on over my zelda t-shirt so i looked less like a tourist. (which i became painfully aware that i must after seeing how differently people dress here than on the west coast)

i walked all the way through 7th street, to broadway, walked through times square, and then stopped at columbus circle, where i sat and read 'the outside world'(which brittany lent me after reading it for a judaic studies class) for a while in the sun. then i walked through central park a bit and headed west to lincoln center then onto fordham campus where i got a guest pass so i could walk around and see what it was like.

i had a little lunch on campus, but i was so beat i decided to head back to the subway and go back to crown heights. the ride was almost an hour and i was pretty much asleep by the time i got there and walked the mile or so back to yerachmiel's apartment.

manhattan is rad, brooklyn is rad, new york is rad, and i'm having a great time so far. i'm not finding it overwhelming at all, just very exciting, and there's really a lot to see. i think i'd like it here a lot if i decide to study at fordham.

Another day, another post... Plus a nice little lorenz attractor.

No stories about bunnies this time.

I'm still reeling from that Matisyahu concert last weekend. It was definitely the best show I've been to in a long time, and I've been listening to Live at Stubb's over and over again at work. Definitely can't wait for Youth to come out. Also, the opening act, Trevor Hall was pretty tight. I bought the CD on a whim after deciding I liked the guy's sound, and it was definitely worth it. Listened to it at least twice yesterday.

I convinced my boss to order a bunch of nerf guns for the office right before we moved and a delivery came today, so I was pretty hyped, thinking they had arrived. Instead, it was just a bunch of wooden blocks that he got for all of my coworkers who have children. Man was I pissed--I wanted toys for me, not toys for real kids. Oh well.


Lorenz attractors are pretty damn cool. The idea of chaos being the dominant force in a system, but the system nonetheless maintaining a high degree of order always impressed me, and I've been thinking about it a lot more lately. The weird thing about self-organizing systems, though, is that the systemic order is always contingent on the right conditions to create the attractors. Small changes in the rules or environment will lead to either uninteresting patterns of completely predictable order(i.e. boring stability, like a checkerboard), or the outright chaos of background noise or brownian motion. Of course there's always the possibility that changes could lead to a new, different set of attractors and an equally unique self-organizing system, and I think that when we talk about creating an evolution in social consciousness or the international politicial landscape, that's the sort of change that people usually want to create. But by their very nature these systems are unpredictable--I find myself... not exactly worrying... but at a sort of low level of constant anxiety over the future of civilization. I know it's kind of a huge thing to be concerned with, and furthermore so abstract as to be almost meaningless, but I guess when you read the news as much as I do that's what you end up thinking about a lot of the time. What's gonna happen as the focus of power shifts away from the US, the world's long-dominant superpower? How are environmental degradation and overpopulation going to affect policies and economics? Will new technology step in to counteract all the negative effects of previous technologies? What the fuck are we gonna do if Iran gets nukes? Lots of of questions, no answers...

I guess we'll just have to wait and see if we get another self-organizing chaotic and beatiful attractor, pure chaos and anarchy as extremism prevails and it's polarizing effects spread unchecked, or the 'boring stability' of total annihilation.

Damn I wish I wasn't such a downer.

Midnight Meanderings

Hola Amigos,
It's been a while since I rapped at ya...

Today was my first full day in the new office. LogicTools moved from 12th and Pearl to 8th and Olive. This morning, instead of walking the half block to the old office from Brittany's house, it took me a whole 12 minutes to get to work. At least it was time well spent--a refreshing walk through nice drizzle instead of the weird unseasonable sunshine or pouring rain that we've been getting lately.

My new office is pretty tight, still sharing it with Makoto, but we're a lot further from the testing lab now. Whereas I used to basically be in it and all I ahd to do was swivel my chair, now I actually have to get up from my desk if I want to do install testing on Anoubis. Also, the whole suite is controlled by two thermostats, and for some dumb reason the one on my side of the office was set to cool and the other one was set to heat. Besides the fact that it meant the environment controls were wasting enormous amounts of fossil fuels battling to drive a 4,000 sq foot space to different temperature extremes, it also meant that my office was in the high fifties all day. Chilly. Naturally, I had left my fleece at home.

In other news, there seems to be some tension in my life, so I guess I'll do what I always do when that happens(at least, always as of this moment), and tell a story. If you don't like having your time wasted, I'd recommend stopping here.
There was once a rabbit. Like all good rabbits, she had a goal in life--a carrot on a stick if you will. The Strawberry Field. Now, this wouldn't be much of a story if the rabbit simply hopped on up to the strawberry field--no, there wouldn't be any dramatic tension at all if that were the case--and this is quite a story, so rest assured that there were obstacles in the way. This being a metaphorical strawberry field they weren't your usual bunnylike obstacles, either. No, there were group dynamics to deal with, friendships to be had and ruined, a lot of work, and no clear path. Well this was a tough little bunny but she had been trying and trying for so long, she was just about fed up--she thought she might up and end her search for the strawberry field and just sit in the thistles all day long. She completely stopped caring if they got stuck to her puffy little tail, and she supposed that one day she'd settle for eating what metaphorical herbage that was in her vicinity.

Now this little bunny, she was a stubborn one, let me tell you. Once she sat down, she wouldn't get up for anyone at all, no sir. Not that plenty of folks didn't try to get her to budge. Well, now, Old Mr. Crow, he came along, he was just singing his song about some cabbage he was aiming to find. "Come on, little Bunny," he implored our protaganist, "Let's head down this here road together, let's find us some good cabbage!" The bunny was not moved, not one bit. She turned up her little bunny nose, quivered her whiskers, she wouldn't even respond. No, the cabbage sure wasn't worth it. It was all or nothing for this bunny, if she couldn't have her strawberry field, she didn't want nothing at all.

Soon enough this little bunny's legs got real tired from just sitting on her haunches all day, so she hopped up and she jumped around a bit. She strayed a bit away from her patch of dust, and wouldn't you know it! Foxy O'Callahan was just zipping by, her reddish fur almost nothing but a blur. Bunny was almost knocked flat on her tail, but ol' Foxy, well she saw her friend the bunny and sure enough she turned right back to make her greetings. "Bunny, haven't seen you in a while--You never seem to hang around the grassy field anymore, and I haven't gotten a text message from you in ages!" Well Bunny was still sittin' on her tail, but if she hadn't been, she sure woulda fallen onto it then. Foxy was acting mighty strange. They'd been friends, but not lately, and yeah, Bunny hadn't been in the grassy field with the rest of the woodland creatures for quite a while, but what did they expect anyways? There's no strawberries anywhere near there. And what in tarnation is a text message? Bunny figured it must be another one of those durn metaphors she kept hearing about. Well, Foxy was a friendly type, for the most part, but she sure didn't have time to waste--she made mention of a tasty treat she was on her way to up ahead, and wouldn't-you-know she was off before Bunny even had time to twitter her whiskers.

Bunny just looked the other way, then she quivered her whiskers. She didn't have time for any of Foxy's tasty treats, no. She wanted just one thing, the strawberry field. Pretty soon, along ambled the tortoise, just as tortoises are wont to do in this kind of metaphor. Well, being the real good natured type that he was, tortoise sidled right up to Bunny, ignoring the twittering whiskers and asking Bunny, "how d'ya do?" Bunny was having none of it. "I'm horrible and you should know it by now tortoise. Do you see strawberries around here anywhere? No. So how could I be anything but awful?" Well tortoise just gave his deep slow laugh, "Well what did you expect Bunny? You're a-sittin' in a briar patch! How you gonna find a strawberry here?" Bunny just turned away, she had no time for tortoise's slow reply.

Tortoise kept, on talking though, always a bit slow to get the point. "Bunny," he said, "I'm on my way to a crick, where I'm gonna get me a great big bunch of tasty fish to eat, why don't you come along with me?" Bunny didn't turn around, just kept her nose high in the air. Fish clearly weren't strawberries, and Bunny'd be damned if she'd follow tortoise to some stupid creek. Tortoise waited a while, but finally, he muttered something about being hungry, and he walked off too, same direction as Crow and Foxy before him.

Well now, our friend the bunny was in poor shape by now, anyone could see. Thistles all in her tail, dust in her fur, whiskers all knotted up from quivering them at folks too much, and no strawberries in sight. No one came around for a long time, so she just started to hop in no particular direction, not quite knowing what else to do.

Our friend tortoise may have looked to have walked off, but he was not deterred, not one bit. He was just a-waiting up behind a tree and when rabbit hopped by, well he let out a yip like one you never heard before. Of course, rabbit got scared, and she made a beeline away from the sound, not even looking back to see tortoise with his wry grin. She just kept running and hopping, and hopping and running, and wouldn't you know it, the thistles, they fell from her tail and the dust, it all blew away. But she didn't stop, she just kept going, and pretty soon she realized, at this speed, there looked to be a path. And just as soon as she realized she was on the same road the Crow, and Foxy, and even Tortoise had been on, well, she saw Crow and Foxy right up ahead. It sure surprised Bunny to see them both in the same place, but it surprised her even more that they were inside the local Market of Choice(tm). Bunny never had seen a supermarket before, but there it was, right in front of her--Crow was busy munching away at some cabbage from the produce section, and Foxy was chewing on a sandwich from the in-store bistro. Bunny's little mouth just dropped to the floor, and right about then, up ambles Tortoise, who patted Bunny on the back as he made his way to the fresh salmon in the cooler sectoin. 'Course, it only took a few more seconds before our stubborn little bunny realized that there weren't just strawberries here, but blueberries, raspberries, marionberries, and carrots-to-boot.

Imagine that--all on different paths, looking for different things, but they all end up just where they wanted to be, gettin' just what they always wanted.


Now if only bunnies could get jobs so they could buy the strawberries in the Market... But that's another story.

If you made it this far, good job. Get back to work.