We're not Slowing Down

Almost every Tuesday at 6:30, Jake & Tony show up at Morseland. It brightens the hell out of my night every time. So here we all are....

Would you believe that we're at 26,909 words? That we passed 25k today and kept on going? That before the end of the night, we'll undoubtedly be well past 27k? That that means a near 4000 word day? Twice in one month? Spent a lot of time last night comparing Excel sheets from the past few years and was surprised that I ever finished one of these before. Every year before there were 500 word days, 400 word days.... And no streak of 2000 word days like we've got this year.

Don't know where it's coming from, but it's coming, and that's great. Last couple days have been fun stuff. Tonight we're verging on actually inventing some sort of book classification and organization system. Watch:

Dui's anger rose yet again. "I am producing nothing? Sir, our failure is a team effort. You've failed with me every step of the way!"

"And I couldn't have done it without you," Decimal said.

"There's that famous Decimal humor I've missed so much. Oh, what have I done without that?" Dui rose from his chair, stalked about the room, glaring at the books. He searched for one in particular, a book on humor written by the great philosopher Franzini in 1233. Unable to find it, he grabbed a book at random and flung it in Decimal's direction. "I don't know what book that was, but perhaps it will aide you in becoming more helpful to me."

The book landed at Decimal's feet. He picked it up and read the cover. "A Treatise on the Methodology and Practice of Bipedal Amputation. I'm not sure how that is relevant."

"I'm not either. How about this?" Dui sent another book flying at Decimal.

"Steam Engines Analyzed and Discussed. Another miss, sir."

Dui grew angrier and angrier, began throwing random books at Decimal, overturning great stacks, sending entire shelves to the floor. Decimal made no move to stop Dui, and did not flinch as heavy volumes came close to taking off his head. During Dui's entire tantrum, he appeared as calm as could be, as if he had been expecting this all along, as if he had been hoping for it all along. Eventually there was but one book left on the shelf and Dui stopped, breathing heavily.

"Is that the one, Melvil?" Decimal asked. "Is that the book you were looking for?"

Dui glanced at the remaining volume and shook his head. "No, I must have missed it."

"Ah well, it is no matter. I likely wouldn't have gotten much use out of it anyhow."

"No I can't imagine that you would have."

"Feel better?"

"I suppose. I certainly seemed to have worked out my anger on these books." The poor books; they had never done anything to hurt Dui, and here he was inflicting great peril and harm upon them. "I'm just upset that I couldn't find what I was looking for."

"They must not have been very well organized," Decimal offered.

"No, I suppose they weren't," Dui agreed. "And now I have to clean up this mess. I'd never live this down amongst the club members."

"Perhaps, Melvil, we could consider this a great opportunity."

"I'm sorry? I fail to see how the task of picking up all these books could possibly be an opportunity."

"Well, there's nothing that says that you have to put them back the same way you found them."