Cogs can think.

Yesterday eve, as I was driving home from Amsterdam after seeing Transformers, I popped Bruce Springsteen’s Greatest Hits album into my car’s CD player. When it reached “Better Days”, I remembered how this song used to, like, help me through the rougher patches during my mom’s illness.

Now a life of leisure and a pirate’s treasure
Don’t make much for tragedy
But it’s a sad man my friend who’s livin’ in his own skin
And can’t stand the company
Every fool’s got a reason to feelin’ sorry for himself
And turn his heart to stone
Tonight this fool’s halfway to heaven and just a mile outta hell
And I feel like I’m comin’ home

These are better days baby
There’s better days shining through
These are better days
Better days with a girl like you

All this, of course, after I fantasised about my Micra being a Transformer. He’d She’d be called “Micron”, and have an eternal minority complex.

I stayed in little-boy-mode a little too long.