I want to juxtapose these two pieces

http://www.slate.com/id/2287146/
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/sam-harris/morality-without-free-wil_b_868804.html

Oh, the other part was where we were at a dinner table/restaurant which I think was actually my aunt/Nonni’s house but in fact I think looked more like the bedrooms, but maybe none of them, and I think it must’ve been one, sort of, 'cause there was a closet with drawers, but we were at the table + my brother thought I was being disrespectful (to Dad?) so he went to the closet and I angrily bite/kissed his lower lip/teeth to prevent him from getting out a gun (shotgun) and pointing it at me to lay down the law.

Jesus Christ. It was knocked off the charts by the fucking Black Eyed fucking Peas. I have hit some sort of new, abysmal low.

Jesus

First of all, Wikipedia considers it “trip hop” (a term I fucking despise, and would never call it that, due to its slick production), and apparently it’s her biggest song which I somehow missed until now, even bigger than her “Stan” song.

If it was this song that planted that li’l seed to have that dream, that is rather disturbing.

P.P.S.

OK, going back and listening to the track, in my defence, in hindsight, I think what got me open was the intro, which my first thought was, “This would be awesome to sample!” but now going back and listening to it through decent speakers and not those round, in-hung-ceiling-panel ones, it’s obvious it was meant to sound awesomely sampled in a post-hip-hop world.

or at least another talking-to-therria-to-convince-her-how-much-I-loved-her dream. In it I played her that song I just heard yesterday while getting my dad’s Father’s Day gift, which I just googled and found out is Dido’s “White Flag.” Jesus. I suspected it might be her, when I was thinking of it just now—Jesus. Fucking Dido. I heard that playing over the Muzak and I sort of started paying attention to the lyrics, and then I had to stop what I was doing and listen, and was like, “Oh, shit.” You know, like, omg, these lyrics are so true… omg, I am emo, man; you know you’re gone when supermarket songs are starting to seem deep (again). Like the “Life in Hell” thing about how pop songs seem eerily relevant. Anyway, that song is now going on Addenda.

OK, so also, since I’m writing ’em down, my dreams were also about these three developmentally disabled brothers who looked like the Kool-Aid man descending in size according to age, riding in the back of some car on a windy road, being taken to their destination by a chauffeur, driving around in some parking lot with a British dad and him fucking around and then his car being at the end of this car park and on the edge and there was this steep hill and I can’t remember if he rolled down and hit the car waiting in line in front of him, and also going around this London bazaar street with lots of Hindustani writing that I think was in the Persian alphabet but there was probably also some Nagari that I just didn’t see.

If I can remember any more I’ll add more.

Another making-up-with-therria dream

Rand told her followers to smoke cigarettes because "it symbolizes man's conquest of fire", and that all this stuff about it causing cancer was "communist propaganda to promote socialized medicine"  (i.e. Medicare, which keeps old people from dying if they can't cough up $350 for medicine that costs $3.50 to make.)

She is right about one thing: objective truth always has the last word.  And the truth is that Rand didn't smoke cigarettes for some lofty philosophical reason; she smoked cigarettes because she was addicted to nicotine—a life-destroying weakness.  And she wasn't assassinated by the communists; she died from smoking the noble capitalist cigarettes that the noble Captains of Industry assured her were safe.

That too, pretty well sums up Ayn Rand and her grasp on objective reality.

Faye, Faye, Faye, I still have to much to say to you, but sometimes, like this one, you are RIGHT. ON.