Middle Muddle

Its the middle of the night, and I'm wide awake.

For the last hour or so, I've been waking up enough to wonder about a question, and then drifting barely back to sleep again before waking to think about the question again. Initially, the question was something like 'I wonder what he will say about those two things', which is rather difficult to answer. After a while, I tried forcing myself to think about anything else, so long as it was specific. When I got to the point of wondering why Picard's Enterprise didn't have a Science Officer, I figured that maybe I ought to get up and have something to eat -- some Jello, say. I'd have preferred Rice Krispies but my mouth's still on the tender side. They told my wife that the sutures would not dissolve, but had to be manually removed; thats as may be, but one small piece came out all by itself. As for the rest, I can feel the swelling going down. I set up an appointment for a week this Thursday to do the manual removal. They've done that once before, and as I recall, then didn't use anesthetic, seeming surprised when I would flinch at the sensation of cold forceps against tender skin. I'm hoping that will have gotten better by then.

Reading some military fiction about wonderful technology, and seeing the occasional article about what the Army is using now or in the near future, I wonder if military uniforms are evolving into 'imperial storm trooper' kinds of outfits, with interlocking weaponry and telemetry.

Tomorrow -- or today, I guess -- Obama's giving his speech on race. I'm looking forward to hearing it, and you've got to believe he's going to use all of his oratorical powers in constructing and presenting it. I hope that its enough to deflect -- I don't hope that it will end -- all of this discussion about the paster's speeches. Guess we'll see.