I was bored today, so C and I went shopping for some Lulu.

It's so much better than those Be Present pants that show your coin slot when you bend over in Paschimo. Which reminds me, today, when I was doing Prasarita Pado C, my interlocked fingers grazed the manly parts of the dude whose mat was directly to the right of mine. I think he liked it. Or maybe that was just a Luna Bar in his pocket.

Er, maybe I should leave that stuff for the latest Ashtangi satirists.

Speaking of satire, my personal belief is that if the entire world were required to watch South Park, the world would be a far better place. Hate is hate, whether it is directed AT or BY the politically incorrect. The South Park writers seemed to really "get" that in their "With Apologies to Jesse Jackson" episode, in which Randy Marsh (Stan Marsh's dad) accidentally lets the n-word slip on national television and is thereupon set upon by a nation of angry intolerants of intolerance. Randy is persecuted viciously and taunted as the "Nigger Guy" (he's no longer welcome in the local Seven-Eleven and he's driven off the road by some local yocals) despite apologizing to, and literally kissing, Jesse Jackson's bare ass...until finally he, along with Michael Richards and Marc Fuhrman(the original "N-Guy"s)appeals to Congress to enact legislation to ban the use of the word "Nigger Guy".

Now, in the aforementioned story, subsitute Don Imus in place of Randy Marsh. Throw in a different unfortunate phrase, equally hurtful. Substitute Al Sharpton in place of Jesse Jackson. Throw in the same torrents of hate directed at someone who used poor judgement, same level of disproportion between the act committed and the fury directed.

Words ARE like bullets. Anyone can fire the gun. No matter which side it's coming from, it's still violence.

YC