"Stakeland" lingered in dream but no vampires or berserkers; instead wandering through neighborhoods and over rooftops, faint piano music and hopeful apocalypse, melting to rawr of chainsaws cutting the old oaks in the field. Let it be just for the health of the tree, not to clear a view. now the field is littered with branches, feed for the goats who love their oak leaves and nettles love something thorny to ruminate you put an ambient track on the iPod, slowing down, measuring out heart beats this winter's mostly lacking in social stimulation ---looking out windows a lot, going out only to walk in the woods, sit in a cafe, or buy groceries; work at home in PJs, --the telecommuter's down- at heel condition, bit of a joke, a cartoon. Could easily stir things up but it comes soon enough that mental weather without my bidding Random lines from online: We are entering a logical blizzard he says. For a time, we will be unable to see anything in front of our eyes. For a time, we will feel quite lost, quite wretched. But then, he says, we will come to the eye of the storm, the logical storm, he says. Everything will become clear, he says. Everything will become still. Logic: do we understand how terribly calm logic is, the heart of logic? Do we understand that true peace is really logical peace? ---Lars Iyer, "Wittgenstein, Jr."