Nomads have wandered through cities during the last two weeks, sold their goods and departed for lands of milk and honey.

They don't leave a trail, but their wares do – usually ashes, perhaps a foul-smelling odor but always a glowing experience.

Fireworks salespeople have rigorous lives. I recently caught up with one such seller, Smokin' Joe Romancandle. What follows is his normal day:

6 a.m. Wakes up, sings the "Star-Spangled Banner," eats a Pop-Tart and brushes his teeth.

Last month I was in Wal-Mart, and I aimlessly wandered into the vitamin aisle. There were hundreds of nutritional supplement items, but one caught my attention – shark cartilage.

Unfortunately, the label contained little information pertaining to what the product actually does, such as make one lose weight or grow a dorsal fin.

As a kid, I used to see "Jaws" on my wall at bedtime. Now I see health companies trying to withhold routine information on Jaws' cousins.

Can you keep a secret?

Last week, I met with a special agent from the Department of Defense. I had my shrubbery costume ready (luckily, there were no dogs around), but it wasn't necessary. The agent led me into a room in the Crawfordsville Armory, looked both ways and closed the door. The questioning was ready to begin.

Anyone fed up with the government? Ready to turn in your "Made in the U.S.A." clothing? You could have a chance to do just that — if you move south.

Southern Party organizers have registered with the secretaries of state in Florida, Georgia, Texas and Virginia, according to the Associated Press. The party hopes to establish ties in all former Confederate States plus six border states and eventually secede from the Union, a la the Civil War.

Last weekend, I was tangled in a crazy game of H-O-R-S-E with my cousins.

For those of you unfamiliar with the game, or think it is somehow tied to the Kentucky Derby, the game is simple. Make a basket (shoot, don't weave), and if the person behind you misses, they get a letter. You keep playing until you spell "horse." There are many versions of the game, including H-O-R-S-E-S, P-I-G, and a personal favorite, D-R-O-M-E-D-A-R-Y.

But which is more important to the game – athletic skill to make a shot, or being able to spell?

By now, I'm sure that everyone and his or her dog (assuming said dog is on DogBook) has heard the hubbub relating to new Facebook privacy policies. I have to be honest: I haven't read every single story about it, primarily because I don't intentionally publish stuff online that should be private. In general, people rarely read terms and conditions before signing up for something online, but hopefully now, people will check out Facebook's privacy terms and decide whether or not they want to keep their account.

A few glaring items came to mind as I finished reading Roszak's "The Cult of Information:"

If you aren't happy with the selection of holiday sweaters that you have seen this year in the stores, you have a few options. One would be to just wear the same ridiculously tacky one that you wore last year. The other idea would be to make your own at We Hate Sheep. We Love Holiday Sweaters.. Make sure you accessorize as much as you can because the holidays come only once a year! You can also choose to window shop and peruse all of the previously made gorgeous sweaters. I'm wearing mine right now!

It's startling to see what you can find on the Internet these days. Of course, I don't need to tell you this ... you're reading this article as it is. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or not to be sitting at work and have to shield your computer immediately due to something that just popped up on your screen. In any case, it's anyone's guess as to how long the Internet will stand as it is.

Lately I've been reading "Catch-22" by Joseph Heller. It's a great book
(watch for a review in the future), but I noticed last week that the
paperback price tag was 95 cents. The copy I'm reading is nearly 50
years old, but even still, how could the publisher make money selling
books for under a buck?