Greetings from the Little House on Barry. One of our runs this morning was a “hazardous materials” response. This meant that some unfortunate backhoe operator accidentally tore into an underground gas main, and man was she (the gas main) a-singin’. This also meant, of course, that a good number of fire suppression companies (including the Hazardous Materials Incident Team, or whatever we call the city of Chicago’s lone apparatus appropriately equipped to respond to chemical, biological, or other potentially apocalyptic material exposures) were present in case some idiot decided to light a cigarette, or, in fairness to smokers everywhere, in case a hot meteorite happened to collide next to the ditch containing the ruptured main.

In any case, our alarm terminal has been silent for a couple of hours, so I’ve intermittently been popping upstairs to surf a bit, and I came across the following photos at Bartcop. Enjoy:

These posters call to mind a thought I’ve repeated here often (sorry), and it is a sentiment that Bartcop himself refers to: the U.S. electorate seems to be extremely stupid, criminally indifferent, or a varying combination of the two.

On another, unrelated note, it dawned on me this morning that I will have Monday all to myself. No work, no gym scheduled, no school. It is that last part of the trifecta that I find myself slightly regretting. I thoroughly enjoyed my last semester in Spanish class. Even though my fluency in spoken Spanish may actually have deteriorated since the end of the previous semester, my understanding of the language seemed to increase exponentially. For the former regression, I have only my own laziness to blame. For the latter progress, I can thank the ability of my professor to turn what could easily have been a grueling, didactic ordeal into a thoroughly engrossing, entertaining, and edifying journey into the Spanish-speaking world. I just have to make sure I enroll for the next semester before the January something-or-other deadline. Of course, this class will be added to the two web/TV classes I’ll be taking. A whopping three classes next semester! This is seriously threatening my preferred pattern of slothful indulgence.

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