I love science. I am a fan of the logical processes. I think we should explore the world and find out as much as possible. I do however feel that there are things that we study that are a result of our strange lifestyles. I recently read of two studies with the purpose of saving us from ourselves. In the first, researchers have succesfully altered the genome of mice so that they produce muscle and fat combinations that possess up to 50% more omega3-fatty acids. They did this by splicing genes of a worm into the host genomes. This type of fat is much healthier for humans to consume. The eventual goal of the task is to make cows and pigs and such that are better for us to eat. My question: why do we need to eat them at all or so much, if they're so bad for us? The other study has to do with finding cancer cells using quantum physcis. Again, a good goal, but it seems that we're looking to cure symptoms instead of rooting out the primary cause (anyone feeling shreds of our recent war-syndrome?). Why can't we just learn to eat better and live healthier so that we don't get these maladies? Treating symptoms is good, but erradicating root causes is much more important. Our efforts should focus on making the world a healthier place and not on treating the symptoms solely derived from our current industrial atmoshere.

Paul told me the other day that he works so hard so that one day he can work for himself. Holly just posted about how it's so horrible selling yourself all the time. And I agree. It is horrible. It's strange that we don't even realize it anymore. That everytime you go into work you are trading your life away for some goal not of your own making. We are wasting our life essences on projects whose purposes have little to do with our own lives. With such a restricted timespan (80, 50, 30 years or however long before we kick the proverbial bucket) it is sad that we spend hours upon hours upon hours slaving for someone else. For purposes so far from living. Shouldn't each moment be spent living; phisically, mentally or spiritually. Yet we give it all away. It's gotten to the point where half of us go to school for years and years just to learn how to sell ourselves better, learning "skills" that have value only for others. Of course some of us have more "worthwhile" jobs. Jobs that in some way benefit society. Even so there is always some controlling force, assigning, distibuting, etc. Fucking capital. Paul just told me I don't know what I'm talking about cause I've never had a job I liked. Maybe. I don't think that alters the underlying point. I would for example have a really great time if I immersed myself in language, or physics, or genetics, which I do. I'm just not paid for it, so somehow though I know tons about these subjects I don't sell my knowledge or expertise or whatever. I'm doing it solely for myself. Enriching myself with things that interest me. That's my point. That we spend so much of our time working for others that sometimes we lose track of what really matters: living. The intellectual pursuits, musical matters, riding bikes, learning your own morality. These things are how I guage my success. Not by how much money I make, how fancy my car is, how many big words I know, but by the fact that I enjoy living. The capital market is so intent on buying our services and selling us crap that it distorts what living is about. Now maybe this sounds like I just don't want to work, but that's not it. I am perfectly content making a living, surviving. It's a part of the whole. We're just so disconnected from it all. I make decent money doing some totally abstract (in terms of personal survival) job that gets me by. But it doesn't give me any personal form of satisfaction. That's what I want and I am pretty sure I know what things I can do that give me that feeling. It is just hard to express these urges in our modern world. I guess I want my farm. Give me the goats. I am tired of selling myself.

Sidenote: There is this new reality show on Fox that Paul and Matt saw the other day where women get madeover through the series. It is so fucked up it makes me want to puke. They pick "normal" looking women and give them the chance to "turn there lives around" quote from the website . This sacred once in a lifetime chance to get what all of them have wanted their entire lives: to finally be beautiful. They don't get to look in a mirror the whole time. To see how they're being massacred. So discusting. I always wonder which model the particular surgoen has in mind when he begins sculpting the face. The nose of Naomi? The chin of Jennifer Aniston? Sophia's arching brows? Maybe Angelina Jolie's pouty lips? To me it's all Michael Jackson. Gross gross gross. If we're gonna waste our time on "enhancements" we should at least get double jointed knees for hyper-springing or eagle-eyes for ultra-seeing, not fucking Elle's ears. But, have fun girls, I hope you finally get your dreams fulfilled. And a double-long-enhanced-schlong to boot.

I hope you have a wonderful day in whichever manner you choose. Maybe I'll see you later if you feel like it. Maybe you will run away to celebrate with the frogs frozen beneath the swamps. Have fun. I love you.

On March 27, a naked-eye observer in mid-northern latitudes will be able to see five of our neighboring planets in the evening sky at once: Mercury, Venus, Mars, Saturn and Jupiter. It will take a low horizon and, of course, good weather to witness this unusual sight. I hope I remember this in two weeks. I will post again if I do to remind.

In another example of what it means to be a journalist, Amy Goodman is onboard the flight that is returning Haiti's President Aristide to the western hemisphere from Africa. She has been in Africa over the weekend documenting the story as it unfolds. Democracy Now! was also the first program to air speculations of a coup and to have an interview with Aristide himself following his so-called resignation. In this age of biliion dollar media companies it is alarming that a rinky-dink Pacifica station is the one breaking these stories. Obviously it is not that CNN/Fox/etal don't have the resources, rather they are typically avoiding a subject that our government does not want closely examined.

The government of Jamaica will host Aristide, though they are facing horrendous pressure not to. "Jamaican authorities are certainly taking on a risk and a responsibility," said James Foley, the US Ambassador to Haiti. "His coming within 150 miles from Haiti is promoting violence." Of course it could be said that ousting a democratically elected president and supporting the coup leaders is a good way to promote violence as well. The plane is set to land down within the hour (around noon today EST), and Amy will be there when it touches down providing us with a first-hand account of what transpires.

stop saying that! I don't wanna wait, i wannit now. i have a theory on friends that may or may not be fully taken from paul. more like adapted i think. paul started with the spots. ask him about it. i don't know how much he still believes. friends are there to be taken from. they are there to offer you something. we like te poeple who can teach us. i will go more in depth later. i am drunk. st patricks in buffalo is a sight to behold. people poeple everywhere. specially those underage. 15 yr old with full tankards and such. whimsical fantastical. fights? yeah sure, plenty. all in good fun? maybe maybe not, for me yeah, fun. i am a heathen though.

and yes, mel is a prophet, he sees, like the rest of us just don't see. just look and you'll see, the seer, he is profitic. very much so. the profits he does reap. profits of prophetism.

I hope it looks something like it did in 1946. Yippy yippy fun fun. Drunk before the sun goes down. Whoopie!!

new color scheme! ahhhhhh....
less wintery blue, i likes it. ku ku ku ku barabajagal. great song, donovan. ya'll should give it a listen or 10. So-a secret... how exciting...elipses...one of my favorite punctuations...whew...anyways, what i was saying. the picture of matt is adulterated. adulterated <giggle>. he's not being straight with ya folks. He changed certain, um, parts of the picture...well...part. You can maybe guess. It has to do with the size. maybe not what you immediately think though. ooooohhhh, secrets, so fun, the spice of life.

oh yeah, trisha, and emily too, bolgna and white bread, a little yellow store-brand mustard...ummmmm, one of my college faves myself. Don't touch the stufff now though, like hotdogs. I'm sure they still taste really yummy though. eeewwwwwggguuuhhhuummmmm

place we went last night. It was a nice place. In a big building somewhere. Strategically cluttered, everything randomly expressing the artistic proclivities of its owner. First thing there I tried some stuff on. Like sunglasses and a boot on my head. Sense was fleeting. We lit up a little and the already cozy place became more so. I was quite dizzy though. There was a book of stories on the floor-backwoodsy type tales. Two guys came over. I can't remember very much of them unfortunately. They seemed very nice and appealing, one even had read my journal and tried to talk about something erother in it. I hope I managed to answer. We lost Paul for a little. Eventually I found him in the bathtub. Which, by the by, is where the teeth are brushed. The sink is not useful for that purpose anymore as it is occupied by several (over 15 I'd say) things. I've never seen the like. A hairbrush, some beauty devices, maybe a shoe or two... We pulled Paul out of the bathroom and washed away his residue. Thus the trip ended. We made it home. Thanks Holly for staying lucid and taking care of us. I hope one day to be back, maybe at least start on the other end of my journey through brain-states.

Yes, I have crossed some strange line now. This morning I awoke from a dream which featured Noam Chomsky. He was coming for some kind of talk, which I helped arrange and attended. Then we all went out for a night on the town. There were a couple of people with us, the only one I can remember is my friend Leslie (one of my long lost friends from my last journal). We were out in some 3rd worldesque town (unpaved dirt streets etc.) and were looking for a bar to hang out in. Eventually we were somewhere and I was reading something Noam had written for me. It was in another language, mostly German though there were definately the words nostre and notre in it which are distinctly not German. Noam told me they were archaic but still usable (he is a world-renowned linguist after all). Leslie thought she would be able to read it, since we were in the same language courses (Japanese) in HS. She couldn't though, probably becuase it was my own strange dream language. Off to work...