Same story: nation's going to war, and I'm mounting my motorcycle. I'm heading south. It's funny how these things happen. Last time it was Afghanistan, and San Diego. Now it's Iraq, and New Orleans. Of course, such circumstances aren't a matter of mere coincidence. If Afghanistan had remained a black hole on the national consciousness (it’s pretty much back where it started), then I wouldn't have gone to San Diego, and if I hadn't gone to San Diego, I wouldn't be going to New Orleans; at least, not on a motorcycle. Maybe Iraq will fit in later, or is just a nice bit of icing on the giant cake of continuity. Helps the world feel sane. Makes words fit on the page, even and symmetrical. Systematic. Maybe the next time I'll make it to Mexico, and if I'm lucky, a map of Argentina has my name on it.

You could think of it all as cause and effect: chaos theory, the butterfly effect, something like this: if you hadn't turned around and snuck a last glance at the pretty waitress, then you wouldn't have bumped into that old man, which made you miss the bus, which made you late, which upset your friend, which meant ... oh, but why speculate? Why fictionalize and trivialize? The web is too large, infinitely intricate ‑ everything that happens changes the course of one's life, from the slightest gesture, to the not so subtle bit where airplanes crash into big tall buildings. As Vonnegut's Bokononists would say, "Busy, busy, busy." But good luck making sense of it.

Here's an example. Tool is a genre‑bending band from LA, sometimes described as art metal. Often termed by critics as the most mysterious major label act around, they're known for dark and complex arrangements, disturbing artwork and lyrics, and a fan allegiance of perplexing intensity. Mixing in elements of Jungian psychology, Hindu philosophy, and Aleister Crowley