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March 19, 2008
The space between clarity and the long hairy heavy howl is delineated by such a thin, by a seemingly delicate membrane. Yet it is a tough material, capable of absorbing the most violent thrusts of feet, fists, sticks, or logic. I am reminded of a joke of sorts we used to have at a place where I worked. It was called “staying beneath the radar,” and we would dip and roll our eyes, the thought being to avoid calling the attention of the hypo manic winged execu-harpies who would tear us apart with no warning and with no apparent motive.