Perhaps it was too soon to claim the never-starting summer in New York; the heat has arrived in full force. It would be nice to think that it would only hang on the east coast, but it has moved steathily across the country, settling also over California. San Francisco has been experiencing temperatures in the 90's Farenheit (~33 degress Celsius), a blinding heat that draws fissions in the streets from which Hades can jump out of the ground in shimmering waves. I can only imagine the tasty smells emanating from the subway stations across coastlines in Manhattan, whose notorious urine stench (among other pungent remnants) clings to hot days like waves to the ocean. The never-starting summer has more than arrived and is trying to make up for lost time...
A coworker sent me a meeting invitation to the end of the world. Fitting. I'm not sure if I should accept or not (suppose it depends on your views of the end of the Mayan calendar ), but somehow it reminded me of the Prince song on a related subject . Fitting as well that this coworker was not born when Prince extolled the virtues of partying like it's 1999 (side note: I did party like it's 1999 while studying abroad in Milan at that time, which was a heady experience with the coming of the Euro and all. How times have changed, how the mighty have fallen...). Time change, sometimes faster than we think, and our cultural references become dated. Perhaps just like the Mayan calendar falling out of fashion over the last few centuries, until its end becomes a modern cultural phenomenon - or not, depending on your view of things. In either case, it's worth partying like it's 1999 regardless because hey, it will be Friday when this all goes down, and Fridays
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