is possibly the only thing that saved an otherwise aggravating trip to Popeworld. That and the knowledge that I really don't like Michealangelo's work very much. By the time we got to St. Peter's in the morning, The Man was busy blessing pilgrims, many decked out in fancy Jubilee 2000 outfits. We had to pass through metal detectors and I beeped because I had left my Visor in my back pocket. Without even thinking, I whipped it out and lay it on top of the x-ray machine forgetting that I had put a Satan Has Your Nose sticker on the cover. "What's that?" the security guard asked. "A computer," I replied, bracing for a fight. "Oh. Okay," she said, waving me through.