stream o' consciousness

It's not the heat it's the blazing hot humidity
The front room air conditioner just went tits up this week.
The back room air conditioner has begun to drip. A pre-death shudder that is sure to damage the wall beneath it.
We're going to get central air and heat. In the fall.
I feel a bit beleagured. It's not like I believe an omnipotent force out there is doling out punishment by the BTU. I'm just warm and whiny.
Books
I just finished Natalie Angier's book Woman: An Intimate Geography. Note to self: I don't care if all you can get hold of are her grocery lists, read everything this woman writes.
Television
Bill Moyers is doing a PBS series called Faith & Reason. I hope I haven't blown my hyperbole wad in the previous paragraph (no less bright a spotlight on Ms. Angier). Moyers asks, "In a world where religion is poison to some, and salvation to others, how do we all live together?" His interviews with Salman Rushdie, Mary Gordon and Colin McGinn are food for the soul and the intellect. I listen voyeuristically to these–goddammit I've used up all the adjectives...brilliant minds converse. It's not just the intellectual breadth or the breathtaking vocabularies (though those are awfully sparkly at times) but it's the vision. The measured and articulated view. The creative approach to global issues. That's what makes the brain and soul feel massaged back to life. That's what gives me hope.

This stream of consciousness is getting dammed up now. I have been chronically sleepy for days and I promised myself I'd be in bed before 10pm and I'll be damned if I won't.