It turns out to be very liberating to lose your last particles of hope. I actually feel better than I have in ages and a little, I dunno, ferocious. It was decades ago when I worked out the simple formula that while all hope is in vain, the only thing more foolish than hope is hopelessness. Apparently I've decided to just say "screw it" and carry on. For whatever reason (largely due to the beautiful weather no doubt), spirits are blithe.
Looking up the phrase "no soap, radio" trying to find the definitive punctuation, I learned from IMDb that there was briefly a TV series by that name thirty years ago. Very briefly. Briefer than "Police Squad!" very briefly. It starred Steve Guttenberg and featured not only Stuart Pankin but also Edie McClurg. Five episodes has to be thought of as miraculous, considering. The interesting thing is that it has an IMDb score of 7.8. Now, there were only 23 voters, and it's possible that they were all Steve Guttenberg. Just struck me as improbably that there are even that many rabid "No Soap, Radio" fans running around all these years later.
Dreams last night were frankly alarming. I had had my head cut off and reattached for some reason. In the logic of the dream (such as it is), it might have made some degree of sense if I had had it attached to somebody else's body, but that didn't seem to be the case. So for some reason my head was sewn to my neck and then later I was going to have it reattached more permanently. The worst thing is that it was one of those where I didn't realize I was dreaming. Very relieved to wake up with everything securely connected. Playing soft music at sleepytime proves once again not to be such a sharp idea.
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