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Late January, 1968, noonish (prenatal):

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Achieved consciousness, finally — kinda bored, groggy. I figure this is a good time to think up easy-to-remember passwords and PIN codes that I might need later. Right now I’m liking “umbilical cord,” assuming I learn how to spell it, or for that matter develop the brain functioning to comprehend things as abstract as language or an alphabet.


4-minute reads

  • Click above to read my columns. Don't be afraid. It's just reading -- you're doing it now, only you scroll down a bit more and keep going. Think of it like a trip to the dentist. Apprehensive at first, but then there's laughing gas. Only you won't be spitting up swallowed blood once my hilarity subsides. If you are, let me know immediately, because that means I'm obviously doing something very, very wrong.