Yesteray my laptop broke, crapped out after three years.
My television broke two years ago and sits like a monument in the corner of my living room.
For two days I have been without the comfort of instant media, and I have been jonesing hard, like a junkie.
I sit for hours on my couch pressing the remote control, but nothing turns on. I am cut off, cold turkey.
I don't have an iPhone.
What do I do?
How do I sleep?
Like a junkie in a cheap motel, I search under the bed, in drawers, and find a Gideon Bible.
Except my Gideon Bible is a Kurt Vonnegut novel, The Sirens of Titan.
With crippled eyes, like the hollow men of Plato's cave, I begin to read, to read, to read, to really read.
And this is what I read:
"Unk had written the letter to himself before having his memory cleaned out. It was literature in its finest sense, since it made Unk courageous, watchful, and secretly free. It made him his own hero in very trying times."
