Fourth in a series of increasingly tangentially linked blog entries.

The best stoner attire ever: In my MIT dorm in the late seventies, a group of guys put their considerable wits together and designed a very special T-shirt. This was at a time in history when big-oil cartels were very much in the news, and, coincidentally, groups of students often teamed up to pool their resources to make bulk purchases from -- er, specialized herbalists. I still remember when the gang showed up for their intramural softball game in their new shirts -- lovely pale green background, the obligate Cannabis sativa leaf emblem, and the legend:

DOPEC

The other tangent from the past entry: I wrote it while sitting in the Ravenclaw Common Room in Ann Arbor, the night before the Montgomery Burns tournament, where I was a reader. As my friends, one by one, acquire their own AirPort and equivalent systems, the world becomes linked in more and more ways. So many ways, in fact, that I almost never have to get off the net. It's going to be an interesting experience to be sporadically netless for several weeks. That is, unless I freak out and tote the iBook with me on my travels. I'm really trying to resist. Messages of support are much appreciated.

P.S.: Happy belated birthday, Mark. Congrats on the new job, Mike.