Just read Shawn's latest piece and have to agree that atheists (maybe more correctly non-christians) are on a day-to-day basis discriminated in society. A personal example involves my workplace, where we are encouraged to decorate our workspace for the holidays. Recently I had a discussion with the "lunch crowd" about this issue, and was, well not really surprised, but still amazed at the staunchess of held opinions. We were talking about decorations and how everyone has a right to decorate their area how they want it, according to their beliefs. Their was a Jewish woman at the table who started by saying it was somewhat daunting to come into the office and be confronted by row after row of Christmas decorations, and some rather graphic representations of Jesus, Mary and the rest. Most of the table did not agree with her, a few even snorted disdainfully. I came in next that on the same token if I was a Satan worshipper and decided to display upside down crosses and bloody die Jesus stickers they would all soon feel very offended as well. I believe at this point I was told that there was a difference between that kind of belief or something like that. In other words there wasn't a problem with Christmas decor becuase almost all of them were Christian. It's the problem with the majority, maybe even with democracy. The majority wins and their views are respected to the exclusion of other beliefs. To me it was just astonishing that no one could even see the point I was trying to make, even in an academic kind of way, to them it was a no-brainer: Christmas is good, good people like Christmas. Truly a case of atheist (more correctly non-Christian) discrimination.

I wanna go hoam too.

Yo Yo YO!

So da party rocked the house and took the roof off. Amy came and was just as fantabulastic as she always is on the show. She mesmerized an audience of over 200 fellow Bufallonians for an hour with straightforward facts about the state of our media and concomitant/codependent democracy. We sat on the floor, fitting somehow, listening to a succinct monologue of offenses against our right to free speech and an informed press. We ate wonderful mostly vegan cuisine provided by Coop housers Emily and Kevin, and yours trizuly (which was made only slightly less gourmet by the buffalo wing smell permeating the room-apparently the union workers strike if there aint no wings). Amy ate of food from my hand. Probably right now little cells of my substance are slowly being digested before incorporation into her greater whole. Yes, I am now a part of democracy's voice. Hail me faithful subjects as I (through my host specimen Amy) strive to lift veils of obscuring corporate curtains from the eyes of your minds. Yea, Oh, Verily, and Behold. Apparently I no longer need to get high to write rambling nonsense-yay. So I think it went great. Over 200 people at $10-$20 average ticket price equals at least $3000, and that's assuming no one put in at Patriot ($100) level. So maybe we made $5000-that's a year of Democracy Now! I won't be surprised, and am so glad that this, my first real activist effort, seems to be turning out so positively. Maybe I should stop being such a negative old fartmudgeon. Nah, all my friends would miss my cynicism I am sure. Though between Holly and I we are over the top sometimes. One of these days when we're bemoaning our sorry fates someon's gonna take our advice and shoot us, and we'll deserve it. Amy is shorter than I expected-aren't they always? Her face was kind. She ate my cells. Not too many though, just enough for germination. God, I hope she doesn't read this somehow. Do you think others share this fascination with her? I should look. I'll post later the results.

First of all shoutout to P-Diggy for the handy new pop-up feature. Whoopie-doodle-dandy! But really, what I'm here to talk about is the holidays. I've been having many thoughts around this topic lately. They stem from an uncomfortableness that I always feel around this time of year when I see the first decorations go up and hear of the vast array of sales approaching. The thing about holidays is that many have legitamate backgrounds and meanings behind them, but have been transformed and mutilated into shooping sprees and consumer frenzy. Ask a kid what Christman is about and they're gonna say gifts. Grownups will give you the bit about family, holiday cheer, and maybe even mention Jesus, but get them started and you'll end up talking about shopping, sales, and decorations, in other words, what really matters. And this is what I can't stand. Take a holiday, like Christmas, which to me already doesn't mean much given I'm not a Christian, add the layer of American consumerism and I'm ready to barf. It's so fake. The only part I like is getting together with the family and what not, but I hate the feeling that the only reason we do it is tradition. Same with gift giving, fun idea, but do I really like these people, do they like me, or do they feel that they are supposed to recognize something because the calender tells them to. The worst offender in this respect is cards. Boy, oh boy, do cards drive me crazy. Such a meaningless, canned message, throw away after a week thing to send. I don't know you enough to find a cheap gift you'll like nor anything nice that I'm willing to spend the money on, in fact, I can't even think of a few words to say, so I'll just give you a cheesy picture with a poem on it that a guy in a cubicle made $50 thinking up, but really, I do care enough to sign my name with a big cursive LOVE above it. And the best is, depending on the holiday, you'll likely find a shiny bill nesteld in the folds. Just use the table printed below to find out what denomination:
Birthday: $50
Christmas: $20
Thanksgiving/Easter: $10
Valentine's Day - Halloween: $5 or less

Well thank you very much. I don't know, I'll take the money though. Bottom line is there's nothing wrong with holidays but I hate the way American culture has warped them. Give me a pagan fertility fest, or African rain dance any day. Those are things that should be celebrated and revered, not fat men in red suits, or fluffy bunny rabbits. And I wanna have real celebrations like you mean it, not the mandatory dinner with the relatives. Drunken all night dance parties with hallucinogenic drugs: that's worship. Ceremonies involving ritualistic consumption of human flesh (Trisha's Paul had similar thoughts on turkey-day), especially brain tissue to pass knowledge from one generation to the next: that's kindred spriritualism. Halle-fucking-luya!

that my sister has emailed me and I actually responded; now we may start some kind of correspondence, dare I say-on a somewhat regular schedule. Simply Spectacular. It's strange really, because I grew up with her for about eight years, and then went to college and then moved to Buffalo, then Germany, then Buffalo again, and in the meantime she is becoming an inteligent person with her own ideas about who she is. I sometimes think of her and can only picture the ten year old in my head (much as I think my college friends will maintain an early-twenties appearance). Ever since, I have been remiss in my brotherly duties; her most formative years and I barely ever talk to her. Such a shame: I have so many truths to tell her <pause for sardonics> that will spare her all the trouble of finding them out for herself <once again: pause> I mean, I already burned my finger, and then my hand, my shoulder, my ass (more than once), and several assorted internal organs/delicate tissues. Alas, I do not hold these truths to be self evident, nor believe that they can be taught by other than the golden hand of experience (points?). Well, what this entire unwieldy collection of nonsensical rants shall extoll is none other than the guiding precipitousligkeit. That's right, I'll repeat it (this time in Hochdeutsch): Abschüssigkeit. At first this doesn't make sense, and then, once your own precipitousligkeit has been foundered upon the rocks of disenchantment, your eyes will flutter open upon the breathless sea's wispy aerocurrents. Your fatigue shunted into unreality, you will step forth and embrace the concupiscence of eternity. God bellicose and guten Abend.

FBI keeps eye on anti-war protesters for violence,
Not surprising that they're keeping an eye out, only that it's so public and printed so casually. It's scary to me that by simply attending a completely peaceful protest or even going to a meeting about a peaceful protest you could end up with your name on a list along with any habits or tendencies that the recording officer has observed. So maybe you're at a meeting discussing what tactics you;re going to use, will you be fingered as an extremist? if you get a little mad and raise your voice will the words "anger possibly leading to violence" appear below your name on some government list? Worst of all is that once your name appears somewhere it gives the police "evidence" after they wrongly arrest you at the protest. It's leading to preemptive arrests where we don't even wait for you to commit the crime: we know you're gonna do it anyway. Scary times. Some might say Orwellian. I am one of some.

I may not be with you for a while now. Not one, but two games that I HAVE to play come out tomorrow. Embarrassing I know, but I can't help it. I don't buy many video games, especially not at full price when they first come out, but these are my staples, the reasons that I even have the stupid consoles. And, at least one of them is multi-player, so it can be a quasi-social activity as we sit around and throw shells and banana peels at each other. The other...no hope there, it will suck my life away for the next couple weeks. So if you don't see/hear me in the coming weeks don't worry. I'm alive, just not on the same plane of existence. Dork!

In about twenty minutes I will be returning to work for the first time in a month and a half. Matt made a joke yesterday about going it by equating it with the first day of school, I wish. Where is my feeling of anticipation? I am glad that I will be getting a paycheck, but that's about it. I love the idea of serving the public, but I don't feel that that's the only thing I'm doing. I need a new job, but am trapped in my American Dream. The horizon (props to Holly) of fading debts reducing to null is retreating faster and faster rather than approaching; isn't that always the way. So, I will go, I will work, I will get a paycheck; I will consume; I will charge; I will be forever indebted (largely due to my wonderful education which gets me so much now). C'est la vie!

With whiteness pulsating,
All-encompassing view through
Tortured panes reveals
Nothing... or Alle.
Has it come to the end
Must we bow our heads,
Oppressed in blanketing silence
Ne'er to hope again.
The fleeting shadow,
For so it may be called,
Found under and betwixt
Leaping particles, crystalline.

We shall see if fags can really rock the punk. Mohawk Place tonight...probably in an hour or two. I will update this journal with the results of experimental gay punk rock. Be excited, be afraid, but don't be campy.

Wellllll,
hmmmmmmmm....
Pansy Division was different from anything I've heard before. I like Mohawk Place that there are always different groups of people there depending on the event/music. This was the first time I've seen mostly gay people there. I personally was caught between different worlds and couldn't seem to find my bearings, which resulted in much wandering around and head bopping/half dancing. I definitely think that punk and gay should be mixed up more (they're both anti-mainstream side groups afterall) but I just kept getting stuck in their gayness. Plus, one of the guys was like super-emoticon or something. His face was permanently plastered in various outrageous pantomimes from ecstasy to rage to befuddlement. I just couldn't look at him without feeling strange stirrings of fright. In conclusion, go and see them for the spectacle/strangeness but I wouldn't buy their poster and put it on the ceiling next to Bowie unles you want some really funky nightmares.