Exploding Pigeons

The tales of Spontaneous Human Combustion have been
thoroughly disproved in recent years. Forensic arson investigators
using rigorous testing and simulations have shown that
a majority of these cases happened like this: An overweight
person falls asleep while smoking in a closed room with
almost no drafts. Their chair, couch or bed catches fire, but
the lack of fresh oxygen limits it to a slow smolder that
consumes their bodies almost completely, fed by their body fat.
Once deprived of this fuel the fire extinguishes itself, leaving
the rest of the room virtually untouched.

That's all fine and dandy, but what explanation do the 'experts'
have for this?
Normally I would conclude that a cat ate the bird.
But how does that explain the missing grass and scorched dirt
at ground zero?
As soon as one mystery is solved, another takes it's place.
What an interesting world we live in.

A Sign From God?

I'm not one of those people who will travel
a thousand miles to pray to an image of The Virgin Mary
someone noticed in the bark of a tree, or on a grilled cheese
sandwich.
And I almost never mention the time I woke up one Easter Sunday
with stigmata. (Another story for another day.)
But I do believe that God sends us signs from
time to time. Why wouldn't He?
If you believe He exists, you have to believe
that He would communicate with us once in a while, right?

I took this photo a few weeks ago because I needed "A Sign With The Letter X"
for the online photoblog scavenger hunt I participate in.
So at the time, I regarded the X made by jet contrails
as a sign, but had no idea what it meant.
Well, yesterday's paper had an article about the sick-fuck teacher
at this very church's school who thought a preteen student of his
was as in love with him as he was with her.
They exchanged some poetry, then he molested her.
Yessir, it was a sign alright.

Progress, My Ass

I'm bummed out.
You see, running parallel to IH10 West just past Loop 1604 was a
rather historic railroad line. Originally the San Antonio & Aransas Pass,
then the Texas & New Orleans, Southern Pacific and finally owned
by the "Borg", Union Pacific, which assimilates smaller railroads
into the collective, this stretch of rails dates back more than a century.
Over the past few years the tracks have been pulled up, bit by bit.
The people who live in The Dominion shouldn't have to drive their
Porsches over bumpy tracks every day, right?
Eventually reduced to a short spur that served a lumber yard and
a limestone quarry, it was a favorite place of mine because of
this old timber trestle across Leon Creek.

Well, the quarry closed and the land was sold to developers
who are building 'The Rim', another shopping center.
And since shoppers shouldn't be expected to drive their SUVs
over bumpy tracks, the rails I took train photos on a few weeks ago
are suddenly gone and the trestle's days are numbered.
We can't have some bored kids leaving mommy's side and falling off
the bridge into shallow water, or more likely onto rocks and caliche
since the creek only runs after it rains.
So a peaceful place where I would take pictures and daydream
about watching trains as a little kid is ruined forever.
It's not the end of the world, but whenever I come back to shop
at the new BestBuy and BassProShop, my heart will break just
a little bit more.

Barnes Auction

All I know about these Barnes Auction people is that
they can't spell for shit.
It should read 'Belgian', and there's
no excuse for spelling 'American' incorrectly.
If you ever go to one of these auctions, read the listings
very carefully, and make sure the items match.