So today the printer blew up.



The Lexmark X83 Printer/Copier/Scanner/Fax got all hot and bothered, emitted the unmistakable smell of sizzled electrons and simmering plastic, and gave up the ghost. Six months old, that's all she was. 180 days of not so terribly hard work.



I wonder if appliances/equipment die in threes the way celebrities do. Should I be casting a suspicious eye at the stereo . . . or is the TV's number finally up? Oh God, not the DVD! Please, anything but that . . .



Today's WDQ:



The romantic artist, off alone in his storm-battered castle, fuming

whole worlds from his brain, reflects his culture's most persistent

myth, of God creating from a primal loneliness.

--Garry Wills