Salt and pepper.

The birds are chirping their frickin' heads off today. Sun, everywhere. Air, balmy yet cool. Another perfect day in America.

I keep seeing these war movies where everyone is sitting around having a perfectly nice time and then they hear something and step out onto the porch, still chewing, as the sirens start wailing and the drone of heavy planes approaches.

Guess that terrorism thing is working.

But I stay positive, 'cause what else can you do? So I'll keep consuming and obeying, just like in "They Live", which I saw for the second time last night.

I remember my old friend Terry telling me about They Live back when it first came out, in '88 (which is 16 years ago for those without a calculator) and how the theme really struck me: There were these sunglasses that allowed you to see the world as it really is, to suddenly see the landscape de-colorized, aliens disguised as humans among us, controlling us with their peer pressure, a world of black and white and grey and everywhere giant signs, OBEY, CONSUME, REPRODUCE, EMBRACE APATHY, MONEY IS YOUR GOD.

The movie itself is low-budget; the hero is a muscle-bound producer's nephew with high tight jeans and a mullet hairdo, delivering one clunker line after another. It's amusing in a bad-movie way, but is nonetheless chilling.

I hear the neighors mowing their lawn, now. Sound everywhere. The birds, still, the window shade bumping gently against the window frame as the breeze breezes by.

Last night a V of geese flew over, low, honking like mad, so loud we came out of the house to see what was going on...