So the inevitable has occured. All the drama her parents raised...I can imagine how hard it'd be to let your child go at first, but they've had 10 years to get over it.

Images of Terri's brain clearly show most of it was gone. Her blinkings came from the only functioning part of her brain: the stem, which controls AUTOMATIC responses and functions. In other words, she had the consciousness of a robot.

In first place, Terri should've been euthanized. I support Dr. K's actions. I mean, I can't imagine ever wanting to die. I want to live forever. But everyone who is in great pain with no hope of attaining a better condition should be allowed to die peacefully if they want to. It's their own lives—it can't get more elementary than that. Many Christians are against it, but if they believe in heaven, won't it be good if people get there ASAP? :) But yeah they believe that God will be angry with them if they meet Him sooner than He had planned. It's like your date popping up 20 minutes early.

But I say to Christians: don't you believe that God granted you free will? Basically, you have the right to piss off Him if you want to. So the concept of enforcing laws to keep people from "sinning" should seem stupid to you even if you're religious.

The most bizarre non-morbid thing I've seen on TV:

A few years ago, I caught some daytime talk show, Oprah or whatever, and it featured adult men acting like babies. I can see women going, "So? You're talking about 99% of guys." :) Nope, I mean, literally act like babies. They were married men with normal intelligence who wore supersized baby attires, sucked on pacifiers, were spoonfed and had their wives change their diapers. In the show, they sat on the floor with wide-eyed, slack, yeah, baby-like facial expressions. They even gurgled. When they were asked a question, their faces'd snap to adulthood and they'd give a perfectly intelligent response before slipping back into infancy. Their women actually enjoyed the wife/mom role.

Anybody wanna investigate what their sex lives are like?

I got on Craig's List to sell my old computer (I just got a new Powerbook). The site unexpectedly asked me for permission to send my classified AD into outer space. I clicked for more info and here's what I got.

Tonight I have to write a paper and I can't get myself started. So once again I'll grease up the wheels inside my head by writing about something irrelevant. I may as well as finish that pointless lil recap of last Friday.

'A NIGHT IN DC' CONTINUED...

-I don't remember how I got to this point but I wrestled 2 guys at once and managed to pin both of them. Then Paul tripped I-forgot-who so perfectly that he just plopped face-first on a mattress lying on the floor. Male bonding at its best :cry:

-I'd never seen so many peeps at DPHH. Good thing the place, Buffalo Billiards, was huge. Good times. Wish we had arrived earlier, but in the condition I was in earlier, I might've tried to wrestle down some deaf professionals, a big no-no for networking. But then I'd have stood out in their memories, which is important for networking.

-There was a huge horse racing video game. About 7 or 8 people participating at once. The contestants first breed a horse—there's even a pedigree chart—then choose how to raise it. I remember some Chinese regiment was one of the options. When they finally get to race, they bop rhythmically on a big button.

-When B.B. was closing, 3 ladies decided to join us when we were leaving. Then I saw another girl I knew getting into her car. I had a feeling our ride had taken off already, so we joined her. We were still "alive" and impulsively decided to go to a houseparty. It was really lame, consisting of froshies making out under black lamps. We blew the joint.

-We walked a few blocks to my car and spotted some of my friends chatting on a porch so we joined them. Two guys immediately started hitting on one of the chicks, Julie. They refused to believe that she's married so she breezily flashed her wedding ring in their faces and walked off (to the kitchen, not out of the house ha), leaving them slack-jawed.

I guess it's a pretty good time to introduce Julie's blog—she graduated from CSUN, was just back in America after spending 2 years in Kenya as a Peace Corps volunteer and will start her grad studies at Gally this fall. Her accounts at her blog are so well written that it doesn't matter if you aren't particularly interested in Kenyan culture right now. And that the typeface's so frickin' tiny.

-It was 5 am and I was tired and hungry as hell. After posing for a few wacko photographs, we left.

-I went straight to bed and conked out without gulping some water, which means, yep, a hangover next day. Didn't do much that day. Watched a movie at a friend's pad (a laptop with a projector). Hebrew Hammer, a comedy about a Jewish crimefighter. Pretty good.

Okay, I shall attack the paper now *rolling up my sleeves*

Minutes ago, I sat on my porch, basking in the balmy weather and the sun, and observed a couple of things.

First, something I wrote almost 2 months ago. I posted it but then saved it as a draft instead. I was sick with a case of cold and in my dazed state, I thought that post'd result in an unwanted outpour of pity for me *roll eyes*

"Somebody was killed by a 18-wheeler this afternoon near the Fla. Ave & 6th St. intersection. Less than 100 feet away from my bedroom. I didn't see the incident but my housemates and I got to watch everything that happened afterwards. We could see the body lying under the truck's trailer. The cops roped off the whole block and took pictures of the scene. After they put the body in a medical examiner's van, one of them shoveled sand on the road, where it had laid—to cover up the blood, I presume. After about 2 hours, the police cars, about 10 of them, and the truck finally left. Right now, the cars are zooming over that patch of sand, the drivers blissfully unaware of what happened earlier. I only hope the poor guy wasn't a Gally student."

Nope, SHE wasn't. I read about it next day in the Washington Post. Apparently she slipped and fell in front of the truck. I wondered if she had a family, had lots of friends, basically if she'd be missed. I found out within a couple of weeks. You know how people'd place flowers and a cross on the site of the accident that killed their loved ones. It isn't possible in this case, the site being a busy city street. But there are bags full of stuffed animals tied up to a nearby lamp post. To this day, they're still there.

The other thing I saw: a blind man on the intersection. I'm sure all of you Gally students or alums know him. I forgot his name. A chubby man in his 50s or 60s that's a warden of Gallaudet University. Yep, Gally shelters and feeds him free of charge—it "adopted" him when he was young. The place I most often see him in is a locker room at Field House. He'd sit on a bench there, wearing nothing but a towel, lost in his thoughts. His face'd constantly change, swinging between bemusement and amusement.

Anyway, there he was, trying to cross a street. I did nothing at first—if he got there, then he probably know how to get around. But then the "Cross the bleepin' street now" light came flashing on and he just stood there, waving his cane around. I watched him for a moment and started to think he needed some help. Just as I stood up, he suddenly crossed the other street instead, swinging his stick around like it was a lightsaber. He's presumably safely back on campus.

I have a paper to write so I shall warm up with an essay I call...*drumroll* 'A Friday in DC'.

After mulling on the beverage for the night at a ghetto liquor store, I swooped on what looked like Smirnoff plain triple-distilled vodka (if I wasn't on a college student budget, it'd be Grey Goose, no question). When I arrived home, to my horror, the vodka turned out to be watermelon twist. WTF? Who thought of that up? OK, hold that racist joke.

But once I took the first swig, I was pleasantly surprised. The watermelon taste wasn't overpowering at all—unlike strawberry twist, another accidental purchase of mine...all of the aforementioned versions of Smirnoff have red labels. So I drank it with my housemates. You know how with hard stuff, it's easy it is to lose track of how much you drink. Had brownouts for next couple of hours. (Apparently before I left, I chatted up some people online. Next day I saw IM convos on the computer screen that I had zero recollection of. It was strange reading those convos, I can tell you that much.)

TO BE CONTINUED

David S. grew up in South Africa and will become an American citizen soon. He's white but he'll be able to say he's African American.