Gentle Reader,
It is horrible but true--I am the Troll! In more than appearance alone. I have been so unfaithful to you, lost track of the days, contented myself to wandering downhill like a stream, like that cut of water alongside Herr Doppelganger, a gentle incision, widening at the mouth, the rain fell hard at times today, for about ten minutes there was a wondrous sun. My serious question to you is, and I'm taking a survey, "What are your plans for Y2K? Someplace safe? The arms of a lover? Surrounded by friends? Shotgun alap? All the above?"

Today, I thought about many things. I spun the bottles atop the fridge, the ones with herbs steeping in them. I drew circles with the computer. I could tell they weren't round. Zoom in. Zoom out. Undo. Livin' la vida loca. But like Low Rider magazine says, Don't forget la vida pura, lacquered candy and shiny pumps.

There is an outdoors somewhere. My high school physics teacher tried the simplify schtick but came back because nature didn't talk, but now I think about it he probably just wasn't a very good listener. If a tree fell by an airport, would anybody hear it? If you threw away your computer, would anybody notice?