Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you.

My computer is old. REALLY small amount of memory: 256 megs of RAM. That's 25% of what comes standard these days on the new version of my bottom of the (Apple) line laptop.

I'm not one to really give a shit about brands (she says, hypocritically, considering that she just copped to having a branded laptop). Used to be? Sure. Especially in high school it just thrilled me to have the right, popular *thing* whatever it was. In 1987 (shortly before dancing to the featured music at a horrible, and very empty at 9 p.m., disco), I purchased a (fake) Louis Vuitton purse, for example.

But I've changed, mostly. I look for the best quality at the lowest price.

So far? This post is very demonstrative of how my mind jumps from topic to topic. The reason I opened Blogger in the first place is that I'm in the middle of watching The Corporation. I've many thoughts about the documentary, and my old computer is making the watching kind of difficult. The DVD drive is sticky; I have to jerryrig the slot to allow the disks ingress and egress. This involves a moist Q-tip. I also max the memory out with one program. I can run Firefox to browse (for a while....then it hangs up and crashes) but not when I've got Mail or the DVD player open.

And so then I noticed that I was blathering on (as I do) about the computer being old and an Apple. And I digressed on to branding.

All of this jumbled mess of emotional reaction to the movie leads to my Official Review:

The Corporation made me mad and sad and ever more jaded about people and their motivations. I mean, it paints a picture of human nature that is SO bleak I wonder why anyone bothers to do anything.

Makes me e'er more interested in homesteading. Urban homesteading, I guess. (I have no response* to my use of the poetic "e'er")

By the way, I got the DVD at the library, where I had gone to try to check out Frontier House. Which is only on VHS at my public library. And was checked out.

The End.

*This is what we used to say to mean "Whatever!".

(... I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time. )