As is my wont, I consulted a number of daily newspapers earlier today in order to identify forces of evil, the cause and crusade I've made my own. But the prevalence of evil, its inescapable stamp on the daily news, is enough to give me pause. Rather than confront human hatred in all of its ugly manifestations, I will instead take on a somewhat less truly evil evil, namely chiselers of various stripes.

About two hours ago, I purchased a meal from a local eatery, an eatery I've been known to frequent. I am not quite a "regular"; instead, I am a "regular" at another "hang-out" about a hundred yards south of the eatery in question. That said, it is my belief, based on the nature and content of interactions I've had with the wait staff, that I am recognized and not actively disliked by those in charge. Because I am undemanding and have never, as yet, brought along a gang of roustabouts or other young toughs to join me for a meal, this is, I think, to be expected. Even so, I discovered, to my chagrin, that I had been charged two dollars more than I should have. Mind you, this could very well have been an honest mistake, and I by no means wish to punish the owners of the restaurant (or eatery, if you prefer) by besmirching their good name on this web site; that said, it is suspicious. More importantly, it represents a far broader problem facing our country and the world, i.e., chiseling, which threatens to undermine the social trust that undergirds a market economy and a liberal, open, tolerant society. The chiseling must stop, and it must stop now.

Last night, I drowned my sorrows in a tall glass of pineapple juice. I came to work a bit late today and, upon arriving, saw that everyone was in a meeting concerning the future of our organization, which is in the universe of publishing. It was a bit embarrassing that I was late, but I just slinked to the back of the room.

After one of our visitors (the main attraction, you could say) introduced himself, he asked all of us in the room, employees all, to introduce ourselves. A line of people went first and then someone said, I believe, "How about the back?" The gentleman meant, I now realize, the back row, but not the back of the room. Just when I thought I'd have to introduce myself, in a crowded room, I said, instead of "Reihan Salam, intern," "I have an uncontrollable nosebleed," which I did. Blood poured out of my nose. Shortly afterwards, it was under control. Upon returning to the room, as the introductions drew to a close, I properly introduced myself. I was, predictably enough, mortified. Later in the day, a massive fire erupted.

Listen up, hoodlums: fire is a force of evil. Yes, it helps to control the growth of bothersome weeds and the like, and it also provides warmth, sterilizes water, and allows us to prepare venison steaks. But, like mercurial young ladies, fire kills.

Hibernation is drawing to a close, as is the funk. Not that funk. Expect a furious lyrical assault on all things evil shortly.