The following is in response to my digressions of July 9, 1996 and October 14, 1996:

....I found your lunatic ravings, and behind them, a kindred spirit. However, I must disagree on the topic of pedestrianism. I deliver tonor cartridges (I deliver those used by your mechanical engineering Cad Lab, in fact) and am thereby blessed with the oppurtunity of swiching between driver and toter of boxes across streets in rapid succession. I am a terrible driver. In the year and a half I've been on the roads, I have destroyed two cars, been caught for two traffic violations, bumped every bumper in Santa Barbara, and generally dinged and scraped whatever car I'm using to a state of unsightliness. I rammed my employer's truck before his very eyes--but the dent popped back out. On one point, however, I am the essence of safety: pedestrians. I am a person struggling to operate a very powerful and dangerous tool, and the pedestrian is a person forced to beware my mad progress just to get about without kissing chrome death. I temporarily halt operation, so that others may continue with their life. Occasionally, the fed up drivers behind me try to go around (endangering those on foot) so I yank and lurch and hurl my automobile into the driver's path. I watch their expression in my mirror temper from unkindled rage, to realization, to relief. It is important for drivers to stop driving occasionally and notice that outside their steel cage and rapidly receding traffic signals is a gentler, slower moving world. A world with concern for its inhabitants, and an honest desire to make everybody's existance manageable. How, in your cruel vision of tyrannical traffic ceaselessly racing by, is Granny to cross the damned street? She was there, waiting to cross, when you were yet several blocks (and several seconds, you speeding fiend) away. Does not the priority of ordered arrival grant her leave? Can not I, hefting a load of your comtemptable tonor cartridges, hope to complete my task on the other side of the street? You villian. You swine. Do you wish to kill and leave laser printers devoid of tonor? But I grow weak... Weak with disappointment in the dwindling dream of brotherhood...