The International Space Station is a big deal. Really. It's the difference between utilizing our solar system and not. The fact that the discovery coincides so nicely with the discovery of water (molecules) on the moon almost guarantees us a Star Trek future.

Not that you'll be likely to read much about it. Nobody seems to be reading anything about it because nobody seems to be reading anything about science at all these days. Technology news is about all anyone can handle: microsoft, the web, personal computers. Rocket ships are complex and boring. The moon is too far away. Even cloning was essentially written off as not much more than an entertaining marketing stunt. The $25 billion space station is almost entirely unheard of within my well-read circle of friends and acquaintances.

These kinds of supposedly scientific events may not seem relevant to our present daily lives, but they are certainly relevant to the daily lives of our future selves. These are the sorts of things that shift our paradigms about what is possible, change our perceptions about our context, and ultimately alter our lives and yet they remain largely undiscussed. Which, personally, I find very interesting.

Famous people are pretty boring sometimes. Eating pasta in a noisy, well-lit restaurant they look just like everybody else.

Cashmere sweaters make people irresistible. You can't help but want to touch cashmere. Can't help but pet the fuzzy fabric and by default, the person underneath it. It's really weird how you'll completely give yourself over to the impropriety of fondling a complete stranger simply because they're garbed in cashmere. Immersed in your tactile invasion, you'll find yourself coyly trying to ascertain whether or not the sweater was a gift. And if so, then from whom? And what kind of claim does this gift-giver still have on the sweater-wearer? You wonder whether or not the sweater is being worn because the wearer simply likes the way it feels or whether they just like the way it makes people feel them. But mostly, though, you wonder whether or not you can borrow it. Exactly how quickly can you dispense with the preliminaries and move on to the sweater borrowing stage of the relationship? How much time, you wonder, do you *really* have to spend with someone before you can simply walk out of their life with their cashmere sweater and have them chalk it up to experience instead of having you arrested for stealing.

The Bounty is one of the only bars in Los Angeles in which I've ever had a good time. There is this little bar area with swivel-stools filled with grumpy old people still smoking and a bunch of red leather booths containing a lot of people who seem hip despite the fact that they actually look hip. Meaning that most people who look hip actually aren't hip because in order to look that way you have to make an effort. And there's just something about making the effort that is uniquely un-hip. However, when you stop and think about it, it becomes clear that by boycotting major strip malls and chain stores you pretty much can't help but be hip. If hip dressing is defined by that which is unusual and unique it seems that simply by avoiding anything manufactured for the masses you just can't help but be unusual. Hip fashion through low-grade suburban angst. It would be ironic if it wasn't sort of depressing.

Um well anyway, the Bounty also serves food.