Which is why I have decided to start one myself. I've always dreamt that the Leviathan is a hideously frightening creature, much like the blog project you see me beginning here. Chances are, like most things in my life, I'll grow sufficiently apathetic and let the beast die a natural, if abrupt, death and relieve you all (i'm full of myself enough to assume someone will read this tripe) of any obligation you feel to read this. These things in mind, it's raining outside. This could be indicative of change if we look to modern art, film and literature.
Or it could be the calling card of mild depression if we look at it from a Central New York psychological point of view. Many people decide to treat this by transforming their skin into the same color and consistency of a rotisserie chicken. Crispy and brown, and just a little bit flaky.
Leviathan Arise, pretentious to the last. It's still raining. I bet Noah hated rain.
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