For the moment there's only a very short story of mine here, but  when I have the time, more will follow.

First of all, have some music while you take a brief moment to ponder the age-old question "How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?"
... or for that matter, "How many skeletons can dance on a tombstone?"

'It didn't start on time, my Lord.' Seraphim said glumly. He really disliked giving messages like these to the Lord. They always made God look at him in a way that made his feathers stand on end.
'How do you mean, "It didn't start on time". Did I not create the sun so that the Earth would be fertile and that life could dwell upon it?' God gave him the Look.
'You did, my Lord.' the angel mumbled.
'Did I not make sure that the earth orbits this sun, infallibly, in exactly 365 days, 5 hours, 48 minutes and 46 seconds?'
'Yes, my Lord.' Seraphim said with an involuntary snigger. There is a bar where angels go after a hard day's work and Seraphim vaguely remembered sitting there late yesterday evening having a discussion with some other angels about the Lord's inexplicable love for nonsensical numbers like, say, Pi or Planck's constant.
The Lord looked upon him scornfully and his sheepish grin quickly subsided.
'And did I not, in my eternal wisdom, give the Earth a rotational spin around a non-vertical axis' God roared 'so that none of Earth's inhabitants would have to suffer the boredom of one never-changing season?'
'So you did, oh Almighty One.' said Seraphim demurely.
'Then what in the name of Me is the meaning of this stupidity? I will not tolerate disobedience from seasons! The Summer must start on time!' God thundered.
'Sure, sure, no seasonal disobedience, whatever you say my Lord,' the angel cowered 'but what can I do about it? I'm an angel, not a meteorologist.'
'You know what I think? I think I smell something fishy and somehow I wouldn't be surprised if there were a little hint of sulphur in it as well. This is exactly the sort of thing he would do and I'll be damned if I let him get away with it!' God rose majestically from his throne, pushed a button in a cloud and after a moment two elevator doors open with a melodious 'ping'.
'You know what I'm gonna do? I'm going down and I'm gonna see what he's up to and if I find out it's him again, he's gonna witness the Wrath of God up close and personal. This time the bastard's gone too far, messing with my seasons!'
Fuming, God stepped in the elevator car and banged the bottom button. Not surprisingly, the button was engraved with a captal 'H'. 'I'll administer him some Godly justice, allright. First I'll administer it to his face and then I'll slowly work my way through all the other bits that need administration!'
With another ping, the elevator doors closed again and Heaven grew quiet again as the elevator car started it's slow descent towards Hell.
Eventually the misunderstanding was sorted out and the summer started, although it started a few days later than was usually it's habit.

                                                                                                                       - Stonehenge -



                                                       





Because I am one of the millions of people against the war;

And because the American government has made it clear that it won’t listen to world opinion;

And because the symbols of American power are its corporations and their brands;

I hereby pledge to boycott Brand America, from the moment the war begins and to the best of my ability until the empire learns to listen.

To find out more and sign the pledge, visit adbusters.org.
Tonka