I've been working my way through Eating the Dinosaur by Chuck Closterman. I purchased it in the Orlando Airport, before my flight back to Las Vegas. I had heard mixed reviews of Closterman's work before, but there was a triceratops on the cover so I couldn't resist.

It's mostly a discussion of modern pop culture and how it alters our perceptions of reality. And although that sounds heavy, he tends to keep it light and fluffy. Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs is next on my reading list before I form a finite opinion on Closterman.

However, his musings have force me to contemplate my own musings. Why am I writing this blog, and what do I hope to gain from it? I don't know. I doubt anyone is actually reading.

Originally, I intended to chronicle my photographic pursuits, but this summer has been light on those. It could examine my exploration into cinema and literature, but that doesn't sound accurate either. For now it will stay aimless, even though the blogs that I admire the most are very specific in topic and message.