Nothing like Radiohead to give you a sense of futility and meaninglessness.

I am immediately reminded of a particular quote from “The Simpsons” (nevermind the fact that Ptolemy was proven wrong well over a thousand years ago.)

I’m a lonely, insignificant speck on a has-been planet orbited by a cold, indifferent sun.

There is a site with mp3s from Radiohead’s live performances and I am currently listening to their show at the Greek Theater at Griffith Park in Los Angeles. I have also consumed three beers, although they are Japanese beers. I was, for some reason, thinking that they wouldn’t affect my supertentorial functions as badly as beer usually does.

The question before me is this: should I have one more, which will surely send me to the land of the unconscious, or should I just fret and worry about life in this malformed haze, slugging it out with the existential questions that torture my soul?

It’s too bad I’m too drunk and lazy to actually make it to the refrigerator.

Nobody loves me. Boo-hoo-hoo.

That was random.

The eternal question, the crux of the matter, is, what do I want out of life? The universe. Everything?

Bleh. Why is none of this even remotely simple?