a time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing . . .

funny how things work, isn't it?

i'll be your huckleberry . . .

i really wish people would stop referring to bush as the "cowboy president." this offends me, as i am a fan of cowboys. i mean, cowboys kick ass. george bush is just an asshole.

transcendence on two wheels . . .

today i have had some crazy experiences on my bike. it started this afternoon, when i woke up at two. i had nothing, i mean nothing, to do until six, when i had to go to mass (for the first time in a long time . . .). so, to defeat boredom, i decided to go adventuring on my bike. i headed north, through the garden district, to government. from there i headed west, toward the river, and northward, toward spanish town. i stopped by capitol lake and had a weird moment with a nutria. i explored some old, abandoned houses. i sat by the river and wrote. i biked home in the rain.

i've only recently started to develop a relationship with this town. i've only just begun to think of it as my "home." for the first two or three years i was here, baton rouge was a place i had to be for the next four years. i knew how to get only to those places i needed to get to in order to survive: my bank, winn-dixie, louie's, my job. but now, now, when i'm about to leave this fucking town for good, i go and get attached to it.

for those of you who have never realized, baton rouge is a town divided. some places in this town look like a third-world country. my roommate, joey (you who don't really know him, he's a crazy architect . . .), told me tonight that he's seen economic maps of this city that indicate significant portions of town with average incomes of $8000 and below. that's fucking low. i mean half-the-conservative-u.s.-definiton-of-poverty-as-$16000-a-year-low. and jutting out of this cracked urban landscape is a giant monument that reads in stately latin script: vnion confidence jvstice. let me tell you, this town is anything but united. and it's anything but just. and there are many who don't have "confidence" in its economy. surrounding these ghettos is a university and a sprawling suburbia packed with whitebread families pulling in a hundred gee's a year, at least.

now i'll get down off my soapbox.

then . . .

as i was biking back from campus (i was visiting joey in studio) some guy in a little red car yelled out in the voice of a cartoon villain, "fucking hippie!"

for the last time, i'm not a goddamn hippie.

a quick note

one thing:

all you heartbroken liberals out there -- stop trying to make yourselves feel better by saying shit like "well at least the election was a historical exercise in democracy." bullshit. this election was not primarily an exercise in democracy -- it was primarily an exercise in stupidity. let's not try and make lemonade here, pretending like it's not that big of a deal that they reelected a fucking war criminal. it's time for action, not distraction (no, i did not intend for that to rhyme).

p.s. -- check out the pavement around the quad and other places on campus. "live more, buy less."

good days, bad days

i am at rock bottom, or damn near. i don't care about school anymore. wait, that's a lie. i hate school now. i hate my job, no rewards, no sense of accomplishment, no gratitude (a note to all: don't be a dick to your servers at restaurants -- that shit ain't easy). i have no love/sex life, no prospects, no game, and recently, no will to even try. i am at rock bottom, or damn near.

what i hope will happen is that once i am completely lost in hopelessness some sense of inner freedom will emerge.

otherwise i think i shall only go mad.

fuck you america.

i cannot forgive you this time.

some words from the prophet hosea:

you have plowed wickedness
you have reaped injustice
you have eaten the fruit of lies

because you have trusted in your power
and in the multitude of your warriors
therefore the tumult of war shall rise against your people
and all your fortresses shall be destroyed.

welcome to the apocalypse.

happy election day!

i woke up at 5 am. i spent thirty-five dollars in gas, and nearly five hours on the road. but it was the best time and money i've ever spent, because it was spent trying to save the world. it's still not too late to vote -- please help get that motherfucker out of office. remember: rights are like muscles -- they atrophy if not exercised regularly.

p.s. -- on my way to vote, a really old man flashed me the peace sign. i responded in kind. marvin said it best: we've got to find a way to bring some lovin' here today.