19 February 1998 
 
Whups, I almost didn't remember about the extra r in February.  That's  
what you get for not being constant in writing... 
 
Lots of food for thought lately, drink for thought even (goes down  
smooth... great taste! less filling!) So I hardly know where to begin.   
Excuse me while I curse this shift key... 
 
Anyway, most of my thoughts relate to my current issue of Skeptical  
Inquirer, and various articles in there.  There are some particularly  
gruesome pics of half-burned corpses which have been thought to be  
spontaneous human combustion (SHC) cases.  I mean, nasty things that you  
only see in medical journals and sex ed books (I mean, they show  
disfiguring cases of venereal diseases as some cautionary omen, but they  
don't show pics of disfiguring cases of acne or smallpox in health books  
for kids.  I could have used a "this is why you shouldn't pick chicken pox  
scabs!" picture before my own run-in with said disease at a mature age.  I  
might have grit my teeth when the ravages of hives decided to take  
advantage of my refractory period... oh well, I'm scarred for life. 
 
In fact, I'm a little pissed that my chicken pox scab scars are still  
there but the marks from the time Amy burned me with hot oil have faded  
away.  All the marks on my body now are my own damn fault!  It's just not  
fair.) 
 
Anyway... (my favorite transitional phrase) one more comment about SHC and  
I'll let it go.  What's interesting about this occurance in my magazine is  
that I just finished _Bleak_House_ which contains a rare occurance of  
SHC... and what's more, the man who "got consumed" fits the usual profile  
of such victims: old, prone to falling asleep, alcoholic, and smoked.   
Actually, I think he was sitting in front of the fire at the time.   
There's a pretty nasty prelude to the discovery of, well, not exactly the  
body, but... I think I've said enough.  Ever notice that it's always  
humans that "spontaneously" combust?  I would think that cows, being so  
chock-full of methane would be prone to the event.   
 
Okay, I came in not intending to talk about combustion, and I did.  Bleh. 
And I've talked so much I should really shut up. 
 
I thought I discovered why the keyboard was not capitalizing when I wanted  
it to, but I was wrong.  I thought it was trying to teach me good typing  
habits.  
 
So I need to remind myself what I was actually going to write, so I can do  
it later, and not write a book-long diatribe.  Since it's not fair to the  
people whom I expect to read this stuff.  (Stu, you know your quarterly  
quiz is coming up soon!)  Okay: wonder, science, navels, "not so  
open-minded that our brains fall out" -- I've got to remember that for  
insults -- DNA, creation. 
 
That's enough for now.