Doves

'Morning.

A day, depending on where you are and what you do, begins in either darkness or light, comfort or the unholy despair of a hangover. We who like the constant, however, strive to unify our greetings. We're all Newtonian to first order, and so we choose time as our invariant. Of course, this is not true of cross-net communication, but somehow that is irrelevant. When I wish you a good morning, it may be the depths of night or the honeymists of dusk around you, but you feel the morning. For a brief moment, perhaps, but you feel it nonetheless - which is how you ascribe it meaning. I am neither an artist nor a writer, so I shall ask you to concentrate neither on the meaning nor the placement of the word, but instead on the combined whole. I do not know how you might feel it, whether as the beginning of a unit of waking experience or as a nocturnal limit, but perhaps I can say, without sparking too much controversy, that it must be signifying an endpoint. Some endpoint.

So, what is the significance of all this bullshit diatribe? Simply that I shall once more try my hand at a blog. Sheepatplay, Humanitybites, they all died. Let us forget them. Welcome, then, to Electroweak.