Crypto Nazis Deface NYT
Wendy and I went to a local coffee place yesterday afternoon after she went to go see SpongeBob SquarePants. We sat down inside and I grabbed the Sunday NY Times front page. Inside was a story about a group of people who are trying to put names to the Jews killed in the holocaust. Accompanying the story was a photo of the people with a caption that read something like, "...these people are trying to put names to the six million Jews killed in Nazi concentration camps."
Someone had taken a pen to the caption, though, and crossed out the figure "six million Jews" and wrote above it, "This is a lie."
It's just so weird to think that a Nazi apologist had come to the cafe that same day, read that same section of the newspaper. It was a creepy feeling...like sitting on a couch where someone had been murdered.
You know, sometimes I sit down to write and the words just aren't there. I guess that's why I don't write more often. I'm very easily discouraged.
It's been weird coming back home from Columbia, MO. It's hard to get back into the swing of things. I'm still not too productive. I planned to have about three projects done today--giving myself liberal amounts of time to accomplish them--and I was behind schedule by noon.
I often wonder if I'm depressed. Last week I was completely unmotivated. It seemed like at Amazon, I was kept moving by fear. Now, the fear is greatly reduced, but I'm not leaving the house much, either.
Went out Friday night with some old friends from work to celebrate David Stoesz's retirement from Amazon. It was nice to see the people, but the venue I picked--Bush Gardens in the International district--was a poor choice. Everyone working there was either grumpy or idiotic.
But I've got to stay positive. I have restarted my morning exercise, which helps me get going a little bit. That's good.
Someone had taken a pen to the caption, though, and crossed out the figure "six million Jews" and wrote above it, "This is a lie."
It's just so weird to think that a Nazi apologist had come to the cafe that same day, read that same section of the newspaper. It was a creepy feeling...like sitting on a couch where someone had been murdered.
You know, sometimes I sit down to write and the words just aren't there. I guess that's why I don't write more often. I'm very easily discouraged.
It's been weird coming back home from Columbia, MO. It's hard to get back into the swing of things. I'm still not too productive. I planned to have about three projects done today--giving myself liberal amounts of time to accomplish them--and I was behind schedule by noon.
I often wonder if I'm depressed. Last week I was completely unmotivated. It seemed like at Amazon, I was kept moving by fear. Now, the fear is greatly reduced, but I'm not leaving the house much, either.
Went out Friday night with some old friends from work to celebrate David Stoesz's retirement from Amazon. It was nice to see the people, but the venue I picked--Bush Gardens in the International district--was a poor choice. Everyone working there was either grumpy or idiotic.
But I've got to stay positive. I have restarted my morning exercise, which helps me get going a little bit. That's good.


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