What is reality? Tell me...
Tell me thoughts of God
Do dreams fall from God?
Tell me what dreams may come...
-- Fields of the Nephilim

The lead singer of FotN, Carl McCoy, thought himself an incarnated angel, sent to warn humankind of disaster of a universal/spiritual nature almost Lovecraftian in its foundation. Or, perhaps, he would be the one to bring it on. Mulling it over carefully, he decided the best way to complete his mission would be through the creation of haunting gothic music with a strong lead guitar.

His lyrics are beautiful, though. Sumerland is the climax of the Elizium album, which starts with a brutal murder and continues on throughout the rest of the album with the poor soul in the afterlife. Sumerland is the soul's decision-point whether to stay in the afterlife or to return to earth.

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Saturday morning, I drove out to my brother's to help him and my sister-in-law move. The stores were still boarded up, and the entire city of St Petersburg was empty before the evacuated residents returned. Driving around was like experiencing a disaster book or movie in which the buildings were spared. The Stand, perhaps -- evidence of catastrophe and human chaos, minus the people. It was eerie.

Moving was the normal pain that any move is, plus crashing thunderstorms and ankle-deep rainwater. I think we had more wind, rain, and lightning on Saturday than we did with the edges of the hurricane on Friday. Welcome to Florida in the Summer ;)

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It was a wonderful lazy morning, Sunday. In the afternoon, my sister and some friends came over, and we hung out by the pool as I played cabana boy, mixing Cosmos using fresh limes from my tree. It wasn't inferno-hot for once, there was a nice breeze and just enough clouds to kill the worst of the sun. We decided to take a sunset cruise, and I backed us out of my canal about a half-hour before sunset. We tanked up the boat quickly at a fuel-dock and shot John's Pass into the Gulf of Mexico at the height of sunset. I cut the engine a mile or so offshore, and we watched the lights come on over land as the sky looked like streamers of red burning charcoal. I turned us south, and we went out two or three miles -- enough to see the Skyway bridge lit up, and the hotels lined along St Pete Beach. We headed back up to John's Pass and hit Gators for some late-night munchees. I played a controversial game of airhockey. We had wings and wraps and fries and a huge variety of dipping sauces, except the one we had ordered. We watched huge snook circle the lights of the dock. We watched the cops bust a fisherman who probably had kept a few of the aforementioned snook (they are out of season right now, in the spawn).

Home from Gators, the clouds were gone and a zillion stars covered the sky. The plankton is back -- the propwash was glowing green with phosphorescence, and when I pulled the boat on the lift, scattering fish left glowing trails underwater.

Fingertips have memories
Mine can't forget the curves of your body
And when I feel a bit naughty...
--Harvey Danger

One of those form surveys after the cut, stolen from behindtheview. I should make one of my own, it's kind of a cool interface.

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