WASHINGTON, DC—Representatives of the National Transportation Safety Board, their "bosoms heavy with melancholia," announced the findings of their investigation of American Airlines Flight 25 Moday, citing "fate's cruel hand" as the cause of the Jan. 5 crash that claimed 411 lives.

"The best-laid plans of mice and men go oft astray," NTSB spokesman Frank Whelan said, "and leave us naught but grief and pain for promised joy. Such was the case when the 747 unexpectedly burst into flames and plummeted to the ground at 7:14 a.m., shortly after take-off from Chicago's O'Hare Airport." According to NTSB investigators, the London-bound Boeing 747 relayed a distress call at 7:07 a.m., just 12 minutes after leaving O'Hare. Three minutes of desperate radio communication between the pilots and air-traffic controllers ensued before contact was lost and passengers and crew "shuffled off this mortal coil." Speaking at the press conference, American Airlines spokesman Carl Donaldson expressed sympathy for the victims' families. He stressed, however, that American Airlines accepts no responsibility for "this swipe of God's mighty hand." "I am deeply sorry that this tragedy occurred," Donaldson said. "But let us ask ourselves, what is so tragic about awaking to life immortal?" Donaldson praised the members of the doomed 747's cockpit crew, who "struggled mightily to right the listing ship but were ultimately destined to go to a far better place." "Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!" Donaldson said. "But I, with mournful tread, walk the deck my Captain lies, fallen cold and dead." Based on air-traffic-control records and eyewitness accounts, the crash may have been caused by an explosion in the plane's left engine. Neither the NTSB nor American Airlines, however, plans to investigate. "The call of death is a call of love," Whelan said. "Death can be sweet if we answer it in the affirmative, if we accept it as one of the great eternal forms of life and transformation."

American Airlines spokesman l Donaldson asks reporters, "Who am I to question Flight 25's destiny?" Victims' loved ones traveled from across the country to attend the press conference, hoping to learn more about the crash or simply share their pain with others. "Why? Why?" asked Teresa Salton, 34, clutching a hand-knitted sweater her deceased sister had given her last Christmas. "Angela doesn't deserve this. It just makes no sense. It can't be." Whelan urged Salton and other grief-stricken loved ones not to cry, telling them that they should envy the victims, who "now sing in the choir invisible." "Out, out, brief candle!" Whelan said. "Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more: It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." A Chicago Tribune reporter asked Donaldson to respond to rumors that the plane's inspection record reveals a history of left-engine problems, and that service documents may have been falsified to allow scheduled flights to continue. Donaldson shook his head and gazed upward. "How ridiculous to think we humans can control our own life and death as if setting a clock," Donaldson said. "One's days are numbered, one's hour is come, one's race is run, one's doom is sealed." Of the plane's 411 passengers, 33 were children. Donaldson spoke briefly to the families of these particular victims. "In To An Athlete Dying Young, A.E. Housman explained best why we should not shed tears upon the graves of these little ones," Donaldson said. "'Smart lad, to slip betimes away / From fields where glory does not stay / And early though the laurel grows / It withers quicker than the rose.'" Despite the words of comfort, families of victims expressed anger and confusion over the NTSB's decision to forego an investigation. "How can they just do nothing?" asked Elgin, IL, resident Pamela Robinson, whose husband Anthony was on Flight 251. "Something needs to be done. We need to know why this happened." The NTSB, however, remains steadfast in its refusal. Whelan said he has no interest in searching the crash site for the plane's black box. "There is special providence in the fall of the sparrow," Whelan said. "If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come. The readiness is all. Since no man of aught he leaves knows, what isn't to leave betimes? Let be."

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SAN FRANCISCO—Many web users were trapped without service Monday, when a large section of the Internet collapsed under the weight of the millions of baby pictures posted online. "Some personal web pages contain literally hundreds of adorable infant photos," MCI senior vice-president Vinton Cerffe said. "Add to that the number of precious pumpkins on photo-sharing sites like Ofoto.com, and anyone can see it was a recipe for disaster. The Internet simply was not designed to support so much parental pride." Cerffe said he expects regular web-traffic flow to resume once the nation's larger Internet providers are reinforced with stronger cuteness-bearing servers.

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WASHINGTON, DC—In the interest of national security, President Bush has been asked to stop posting entries on his three-month-old personal web log, acting CIA director John E. McLaughlin said Monday.

According to McLaughlin, several recent entries on PrezGeorgeW. typepad.com have compromised military operations, while other posts may have seriously undercut the PR efforts of White House press secretary Scott McClellan. A July 24 posting read, "Just got back from a lunch with Colin and Adil Moussa (one of Prince Saud al-Faisal's guys). Colin wants the Saudis to send some troops to Najaf—so some of the soldiers are Arab, I guess. This Moussa guy sure wears a lot of jewelry. A golden chain, a golden ring with his initials or something, and some other sparkling stuff—kinda effeminate. Anyway, best of luck in Iraq, Iyad."

McLaughlin, normally hesitant to express public disapproval of the president, said the blog was "ill-advised." "I would hate for the president to inadvertently put American soldiers at risk," McLaughlin said. "We work hard to maintain the integrity of state secrets. When we see the president posting details of troop movements, international counter-terrorism negotiations, and even the nuclear launch codes, as he did on Monday, we have to step up and say something."

Bush said he could not understand McLaughlin's anger, characterizing his blog as a "personal thing written for friends and family or whoever" and therefore "none of the CIA's business."

Nevertheless, U.S. Secret Service director W. Ralph Basham objected to the blog, as well.

"He is compromising his safety and the safety of those in my department," Basham said, citing a post from last Thursday in which Bush revealed that he "had to go to some secret meeting with Norquist at some Marriot [sic] over in Virginia." "Someone could uncover some serious state secrets, if they took the time to wade through all of those photos he posted after he got that digital camera in June."

On Saturday, Basham asked to pre-screen all blog activity before Bush posts it online. Bush rejected Basham's request and later that day wrote in his blog that "Some people who shall remain nameless apparently do not know there is such a thing as free speech in this country."

Members of Bush's re-election team have urged the president to exercise caution with his blog, perhaps because of posts like the one dated July 8, 2004:

"Another long day of speeches and fundraisers. Met with all these phony media company execs. Had to promise them some bill next term and shake a lot of stupid hands, but they did bring in two or three million or so. Whatever. Karl keeps a list. I got big laughs during my speech, so I'm happy."

Republican National Committee chairman Ed Gillespie said he spoke to Bush about the blog last month.

"After he mentioned our Monday message-of-the-day in a Saturday post, we've really been pushing him to not talk about campaign strategy," Gillespie said. "He's not that involved in the planning anyway, so it shouldn't be too much to ask."

"We're not trying to stifle the president's creativity," Gillespie added. "We think it's great he's taking an interest in writing."

Bush maintained that he's doing nothing wrong.

"I know so many people, but I'm way too busy to keep in touch with all of them," Bush said. "Whether I'm talking about our strategies in Gitmo or my dogs down in Crawford, the blog is an easy way to let everyone know what's been up with me. If I've just had a really good lunch at a new restaurant, or something funny happens in a briefing from the NSA, I want to let my friends and family know about it."

McLaughlin said it's likely that Bush will eventually agree to submit his blog for review by the Secret Service.

"Right now, the president insists it's his right to have it, as long as he doesn't work on it during White House work hours," McLaughlin said. "But I believe we'll be able to convince him, if we let him calm down. And even if we don't, frankly, I can't see the blog holding his interest for too long."

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Ingredients

1 1/2 cups flour
3 teaspoons baking powder - level
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons sugar
1 cup milk
3 eggs
6 tablespoons melted butter

Sift together flour, baking powder, salt and sugar into a bowl and set aside.
Separate egg yolks and whites into two different bowls.
Beat eggs yolks with a fork and add milk and melted butter.
Combine egg yolk mixture and flour mixture into one bowl and mix (just use a spoon- no electric mixer)
Add extra milk if mixture is too thick.
Beat egg whites with an electric mixer (on high) until foamy and stiff.
Add the eggs whites to the batter and fold in with a spoon
(Do not use an electric mixer or mix too thoroughly!)
Ladle mixture onto a hot waffle iron and enjoy with pure maple syrup!

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Ingredients 1 - 9 ounce package chocolate wafer cookies 6 tablespoons unsalted melted butter 1 - 12 ounce package fresh raspberries. (thawed out frozen raspberries will be fine as well) 6 ounces good quality white chocolate 4 - 8 ounce packages of cream cheese 1 1/3 cups sugar 2 tablespoons flour 4 large eggs 2 tablespoons whipping cream 2 teaspoons vanilla extract 1/2 teaspoon almond extract

Required Utensils 9" Springform pan with 2 3/4" high sides Heavy-duty aluminum foil Large roasting pan - at least 2" deep fine strainer Double boiler (or comparable small metal bowl and saucepan) 1 large bowl, 1 medium bowl and 2 small bowls Food processor or rolling pin Basics: measuring cup, electric mixer measuring spoons and a rubber spatula.

Making the Crust

• Preheat the oven to 325 degrees.
• Butter the springform pan.
• Double-wrap the outside of the pan with heavy-duty aluminum foil.
• Blend cookies in food processor until they are course crumbs.
• Melt butter in small bowl and pour into cookie crumbs, blend until evenly moistened
• (Alternately you can crush the cookies with a rolling pin and stir in butter with a spoon until evenly moistened)
• Pour the crumb mixture into the prepared pan and press firmly onto bottom and halfway up sides keeping the thickness of the crust consistent throughout.
• Bake the crust for 5 to 8 minutes then cool on a rack (leaving the foil on).

• Press raspberries and juices through a fine strainer into a small bowl until you have 1/2 cup of puree, set aside.
• Using an electric mixer, beat the cream cheese and sugar in a large bowl until smooth and fluffy.
• Beat in flour, then eggs, one at a time.
• Beat in whipping cream and vanilla extract
• Transfer 2 1/4 cups of the batter to a medium bowl and set aside
• Stir the raspberry puree and almond extract into the remaining batter in the large bowl
• Pour the raspberry batter into the prepared crust in the aluminum foil lined springform pan.
• Place the springform pan in a large roasting pan and pour in enough hot water to come 1 inch up the sides of the springform pan
• Bake at 325 degrees for about 50 minutes - The raspberry filling should be softly set in the center and beginning to puff at the edges
• While the raspberry layer is cooking, stir the white chocolate in the top of the double boiler over barely simmering water until just melted and smooth
• Alternately stir the white chocolate in a small metal bowl set over a saucepan of barely simmering water
• Pour the melted white chocolate into the medium bowl you set aside with 2 1/4 cups of batter in it and stir in completely
• When the raspberry layer is done cooking, remove it from the oven and let is sit 5 minutes to firm slightly.
• Starting at the edge of the pan, spoon the white chocolate batter in concentric circles onto the raspberry layer and smooth the top
• Making sure the water level is still an inch up the side of the springform pan in the roasting pan, bake again for 30 minutes at 325 degrees
• When done (again the filling should be beginning to puff at the edges) refrigerate for at least 4 hours uncovered
• Cut around the edge of the pan, then release the sides. Garnish with white chocolate shavings and fresh raspberries.

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To whom it may concern,

Please accept with no obligation, implied or express, my wish for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, politically correct, non-addictive, low stress, gender-neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, as well as the secular practices of your choice, but with full respect for the
religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all.

And further, please accept my wish for a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling, and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2004, but not without due respect for the calendar of choice of other cultures whose contribution to our diverse society has helped make this country great (not to imply that this country is necessarily greater than any other country, and without regard to race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith, veteran status or sexual orientation of the wisher, wishee or their third-party beneficiaries).

These wishes are limited to the customary and usual good tidings for a period of approximately one year, or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first.

Use of the term "Holiday" herein is not intended to, nor shall it be considered to be, limited to Judeo-Christian celebrations or observances, nor to such activities of any organized or ad hoc religious community, group, individual or belief (or lack thereof). In particular, the word "holiday" is used herein without reference to its etymology.

Note: By accepting this greeting, you are accepting these terms. This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal, and is revocable ab initio at the sole discretion of the wisher at any time, for any reason or for no reason.

This greeting is freely transferable provided that there is no alteration to the original greeting text. Any transfer is to be at the risk of the transferor who, by making such transfer, thereby agrees to hold the wisher harmless from any and all adverse consequences resulting from such transfer.

This greeting implies no promise by the wisher to actually take any action or fail to take any action to implement any of the wishes for the wisher her/himself or others, or responsibility for the consequences which may arise from the implementation or non-implementation of same.

This greeting is void where prohibited by law, custom or policy and is offered irrespective of any card, hard copy greeting or embarrassing self-indulgent letter summarizing achievements in 2003, however mendacious, which may or may not have been purveyed by myself or any member of my extended family.

Sincerely,

Will

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Racecar
Rise to vote sir
Madam I'm Adam
A Toyota! Race fast, safe car. A Toyota
Madam in Eden, I'm Adam.
Rats live on no evil star.
I roamed under it as a tired, nude Maori.
A man, a plan, a cat, a ham, a yak, a yam, a hat, a canal Panama!
Go deliver a dare, vile dog.
Doc note, I dissent. A fast never prevents a fatness. I diet on cod.
If I had a hi-fi
Satan oscillate my metallic sonatas.
Cigar? Toss it in a can, it is so tragic.
Vanna, wanna V?
Man, Oprah's sharp on A.M.
(... Yawn.) Madonna Fan? No damn way!
No, Mel Gibson is a casino's big lemon.
Plan no damn Madonna LP.
Al lets Della call Ed Stella.
Bird rib.
Bombard a drab mob.
Camus sees sumac.
Cigar? Toss it in a can, it is so tragic.
Dennis and Edna sinned.
Draw, o coward!
Egad! No bondage!
Enid and Edna dine
Evil olive.
Flee to me, remote elf.
Go hang a salami! I'm a lasagna hog!
God! A red nugget! A fat egg under a dog!
Kay, a red nude, peeped under a yak.
Ma is a nun, as I am.
Naomi, did I moan?
Ned, go gag Ogden.
No lemons, no melon.
Now Ned, I am a maiden nun: Ned, I am a maiden won.
Pa's a sap.
Senile Felines
Sex at noon taxes.
Sh, Tom sees moths.
Sit on a potato pan, Otis.
Sniff'um muffins.
Solo gigolos.
Stab nail at ill Italian bats.
Star comedy by Democrats.
Stella won no wallets
Step on no pets!
Tarzan raised Desi Arnaz' rat.
Too bad, I hid a boot.
Did Hannah say as Hannah did?
Did Hannah see bees? Hannah did.
Emil asleep, Hannah peels a lime.
Never a foot too far, even.
Live on evasions? No, I save no evil.
Red Roses run no risk, sir, on nurses order.
Marge, let's "went." I await news telegram.
I, man, am regal; a German am I.
Tracy, no panic in a pony-cart.
Egad! Loretta has Adams as mad as a hatter. Old age!
Resume so pacific a pose, muser.
Marge let a moody baby doom a telegram.
Straw? No, too stupid a fad. I put soot on warts.
Sir, I demand, I am a maid named Iris.
No, it can assess an action.
Bob: "Did Anna peep?" Anna: "Did Bob?"
Sex at noon taxes.
Egad, a base life defiles a bad age.
"Stop!" nine myriad murmur. "Put up rum, rum, dairymen, in pots."
Delia, here we nine were hailed.
Anne, I vote more cars race Rome-to-Vienna.
Mother Eve's noose we soon sever, eh, Tom?
Too hot to hoot.
Nurse, save rare vases, run!
Draw, O Caesar, erase a coward.
No mists or frost, Simon.
Trap a rat! Stare, piper, at Star apart.
Top step -- Sara's pet spot.
Reg, no lone car won, now race no longer.
Zeus was deified, saw Suez.
Evil is a name of a foeman, as I live.
"Degenerate Moslem, a cad!" Eva saved a camel so Meta reneged.
Was it felt? I had a hit left, I saw.
Won't I repaper? Repaper it now.
Too far, Edna, wander afoot.
Stella won no wallets.
"Do nine men interpret?" "Nine men," I nod.
Nurse, I spy gypsies, run!
Draw pupil's pup's lip upward.
Lewd did I live, and, Edna, evil I did dwel.
"Sirrah! Deliver deified desserts detartrated!" stressed deified, reviled Harris
All erotic, I lose my lyme solicitor, Ella.
No, is Ivy's order a red rosy vision?
On tub, Edward imitated a cadet; a timid raw debut, no?
"Deliver desserts," demanded Nemesis, "emended, named, stressed, reviled."
No, it is opposed; Art sees Trade's opposition.
"Ma," Jerome raps pot top, "spare more jam!"
Live not on evil deed, live not on evil.
Sir, I'm Iris!
Now do I repay a period won.
A rod, not a bar, a baton, Dora.
No, set a maple here, help a mate, son.
Some men interpret nine memos.
Delia sailed as sad Elias ailed.
Ned, I am a maiden.
Dennis sinned.
Now Eve, we're here, we've won.
Tuna nut.
Wonders in Italy, Latin is "Red" now.
No, it is open on one position.
He Goddam Mad Dog, Eh?
Draw no dray a yard onward.
"Revolt, love!" raved Eva. "Revolt, lover!"
Max, I stay away at six A.M.
Ere hypocrisies or poses are in, my hymn I erase. So prose I, sir, copy here.
St. Simon sees no mists.
Draw, O coward!
Top step's pup's pet spot.
Puss, a legacy! Rat in a snug, unsanitary cage, lass, up!
Now, sir, a war is won!
Degas, are we not drawn onward, we freer few, drawn onward to new eras aged?
Now ere we nine were held idle here, we nine were won.
Yo! Bottoms up, U.S. Motto, boy!
Was it a bar or a bat I saw?
Was raw tap ale not a reviver at one lap at Warsaw?
Live on, Time; emit no evil.
Ban campus motto, "Bottoms up, MacNab."
Norma is as selfless as I am, Ron.
Won't lovers revolt now?
Do not start at rats to nod.
I made border bard's drowsy swords; drab, red-robed am I.
Set a broom on no moor, Bates.
Ten dip a rapid net.
O render gnostic illicit song, red Nero.
Are we not drawn onwards, we Jews, drawn onward to new era?
Mother at song no star, eh Tom?
Lepers repel.
May a moody baby doom a yam?
Draw -- aye, no melody -- dole-money award.
Mirth, sir, a gay asset? No, don't essay a garish trim.
Sh! Tom sees moths.
No misses ordered roses, Simon.
Evade me, Dave.
Ten animals I slam in a net.
Did I draw Della too tall, Edward? I did?
No, it's a bar of gold, a bad log for a bastion.
Red now on level -- no wonder.
Step on hose-pipes? Oh no, pets.
Stiff, o dairyman, in a myriad of fits.
To nets, ah, no, son, haste not.
Dennis, no misfit can act if Simon sinned.
Revered now I live on. O did I do no evil, I wonder ever?
In a regal age ran I.
Name now one man.
Doom an evil deed, liven a mood.
Nurse's onset abates, noses run.
Roy, am I mayor?
Repel evil as a live leper.
Eva, can I stab bats in a cave?
Goddesses so pay a possessed dog.
Ah, Satan sees Natasha.
Do Good's deeds live on? No, Evil's deeds do, O God.
Madame, not one man is selfless; I name not one Madam.
Dora tended net, a rod.
Golf, No, sir, prefer prison flog.
War-distended nets I draw.
Stephen, my hat! Ah, what a hymn, eh, pets?
Bog dirt up a sidetrack carted is a putrid gob.
Ward nurses run "draw."
Live dirt up a sidetrack carted is a putrid evil.
Oh who was it I saw, oh who?
"Reviled did I live," said I, "as evil I did deliver."
Pull up, Eva, we're here, wave, pull up.
Revolt on Yale, Democrats edit "Noon-Tide Star." Come, delay not lover.
Won race, so loth to lose car now.
No, it never propagates if I set a "gap" or prevention.
I maim nine more hero-men in Miami.
No. I save on final perusal, a sure plan if no evasion.
He lived as a devil, eh?
I saw thee, madame, eh? 'Twas I.
Dior Droid.
Regard a mere mad rager.
I saw desserts; I'd no lemons, alas no melon. Distressed was I.
A dog! A panic in a pagoda!
Yawn a more Roman way.
Semite, be sure! Damn a man-made ruse betimes.
Pull up if I pull up.
Able was I ere I saw Elba.
Eve saw diamond, erred, no maid was Eve.
"Slang is not suet, is it?" Euston signals.
I roamed under it as a tired, nude Maori.
Pa's a sap.
No, miss, it is Simon.
Step on no pets!
Niagara, O roar again!
Lewd did I live; evil I did dwel.
Too bad, I hid a boot.
"Rats gnash teeth," sang Star.
Lapp, Mac? No, sir, prison-camp pal.
Tide-net safe, soon, Allin. A manilla noose fastened it.
I moan, Naomi.
Too far away, no mere clay or royal ceremony, a war afoot.
Rats live on no evil star.
Deer frisk, sir, freed.
I did roar again, Niagara! ... or did I?
No evil Shahs live on.
O gnats, tango!
Stop, Syrian, I start at rats in airy spots.
"Not New York," Roy went on.
"Norah's moods," Naomi moans, "doom Sharon."
Eva, can I pose as Aesop in a cave?
Trade ye no mere moneyed art.
Was it a rat I saw?
Help Max, Enid -- in example, "H."
So may Obadiah, even in Nineveh, aid a boy, Amos.
See, slave, I demonstrate yet arts no medieval sees.
Egad, a base tone denotes a bad age.
Lew, Otto has a hot towel.
"Warden in a Cap," Mac's pup scamp, a canine draw.
Paget saw an inn in a waste gap.
A slut nixes sex in Tulsa.
Must sell at tallest sum.
Drab Red, no londer bard.
Revenge my baby, meg? Never!
Stop, Syrian, I see bees in airy spots.
Did I do, O God, did I as I said I'd do? Good, I did!
Pusillanimity obsesses Boy Tim in "All Is Up."
Refasten Gipsy's pig-net safer.
Pat and Edna tap.
Adam, I'm Ada!
Ma is as selfless as I am.
Poor Dan is in a droop.
Leon sees Noel.
So may Obadiah aid a boy, Amos.
Sis, Sargasso moss a grass is.
Now, Ned, I am a maiden won.
I moan, "Live on, O evil Naomi!"
Delia and Edna ailed.
So remain a mere man. I am Eros.
No lemons, no melon.
Never odd or even.
Rise, sir lapdog! Revolt, lover! God, pal, rise, sir!
Ah, Aristides opposed it, sir, aha!
Ma is a nun, as I am.
Star? Come, Donna Melba, I'm an amiable man -- no Democrats!
We'll let Dad tell Lew.
No, it is opposition.
No benison, no sin, Ebon.
Ladle histolytic city lots I held, Al.
Harass selfless Sarah!
Ten? No bass orchestra tarts, eh? Cross a bonnet!
Si, we'll let Dad tell Lewis.
In airy Sahara's level, Sarah, a Syrian, I.
Nor I, fool, ah no? We won halo -- of iron.
We seven, Eve, sew.
Peel's lager on red rum did murder no regal sleep.
"Go, droop aloof," sides reversed, is "fool a poor dog."
Sir, I soon saw Bob was no Osiris.
St. Eloi, venin saved a mad Eva's nine violets.
Here so long? No loser, eh?
Flee to me, remote elf.
Six at party, no pony-trap, taxis.
Drab as a fool, as aloof as a bard.
Red? Rum, eh? 'Twas I saw the murder.
Pull a bat! I held a ladle, hit a ball up.
No, Hal, I led Delilah on.
Nomists reign at Tangier, St. Simon.
Nemo, we revere women.
Harass sensuousness, Sarah.
Are we not, Rae, near to new era?
Red root put up to order.
"Sal is not in?" Ruth asks. "Ah, turn it on, Silas."
Retracting, I sign it, Carter.
A Toyota.
Gate-man sees name, garage-man sees name-tag.
Live not on evil.
Nella won't set a test now, Allen.
Ha! I rush to my lion oily moths, Uriah!
Live dirt, up a side-track carted, is a putrid evil.
Dog, as a devil deified, lived as a god.

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