Can someone please tell me exactly when I entered this parallel dimension? It's a familiar and yet strange place, where we have no idea when (if ever) there will be a new Star Trek film or TV show, but things are moving along smoothly for not one, but two Star Wars TV shows?
So, I pull into the parking lot of Stately Wombat Manor this evening, prepared to File My Taxes in the traditional manner: in a rush, the night before, with the requisite grumbling, dark oaths, and general disdain for the bozos in (City Hall/the State Capitol/Washington) that are the hallmarks of a healthy democracy. Waiting for me, I find three, count them, three black cats clustered around the tree next to my usual parking spot.
