I am hanging out outside with Bridgette and Paul and a couple others, we're in California. Suddenly Bridgette says, "watch out, it's coming." No one really knows what to think at her random outburst, then the ground begins to shake. A small earthquake. No one is hurt. I don't even wonder that Bridgette seemed to be able to predict it before it came. A little while later we're somewhere not too far from there, we can see the ocean. Again Bridgette says, "it's coming." This time I know what to expect, and my heart starts beating a triple beat. I throw myself on the ground and try to brace myself. The whole world begins to move. The sound is deafening. This one is much different from the other which had lasted ten seconds and only rumbled beneath my feet. As I try to keep still and braced, a great tearing crash seems to erupt from directly underneath me. I am moving now, sliding. I look to where I am headed and see a massive cleft in the world. Like in the cartoons, I am scrabbling wildly to find a handhold. Another crash behind me and the world tilits once more. I am still sliding but in a different direction. When I turn my gaze to my new destination I realize that I am trapped completely and will soon end up spiralling away to the center of the earth. And then I start awake. My heart is truly pounding in my chest. I am totally freaked out and have to intentionally calm myself to find my way to slumber again. And I wonder, can Bridgette really do that?

This one's a "classic" and everything. Whoo-hoo. The Immoralist by Andre Gide is a tale of a wealthy young intellectual who experiences a near-fatal illness and then begins to see life from a much altered perception. He questions subjects such as morals, culture, and art and begins to wonder if what he has been taught to understand about life has any bearing on actually living. Despite it's "classic" status it was an enjoyable short (only about 100 pgs.) read. Instead of rambling more, I will offer a few of the passages that struck me as especially prescient. The work is presented in first person as the narrator, Michel, describes the adventures of the last couple years of his life to old friends, therefore unless indicated these are the musings of his mind as he progresses on his journey.

-on poets, philosophers, and such:

"At first I hoped to find a somewhat more direct understanding of life in some novelists and some poets; but, if they possessed that understanding, I must confess they hardly showed it; it seemed to me as if most of them weren't living at all, but were contented with seeming to live, and almost considered life as an annoying obstacle to living. And I couldn't blame them for it; and I won't affirm that the mistake wasn't on my side.... Anyway, what did I mean by "living"? That is exactly what I would have liked someone to tell me. This group and that spoke deftly, about the various happenings of life, never about what motivates those happenings.
As for the few philosophers, whose role it would have been to instruct me, I had known for some time what I could expect from them; whether mathematicians or Neo-Kantians, they kept as far away as possible from reality, which might disturb them, and were no more concerned with it than the algebraist is with the real existence of the quantities that he measures."

-and on what they were/should be (this one comes from a man who has already "learned" of real life as Michel now understands it to be:

"'Do you know what makes dead letters of poetry and especially philosophy today? It's because they're detached from life. Greece created idealism directly out of living reality; so that an artist's life was already a poetic accomplishemt in itself; a philosopher's life was an activation of his philosophy; so that, in addition, mingling with life instead of being unaware of one another, philosophy nourished poetry, poetry expressed philosophy, and they had remarkable powers of persuasion. Today beauty no longer acts, action is no longer concerned with being beautiful; and wisdom operates on its own.'"

and more about the same topic (ie: intellectuals in general):

"...most of them think they can't derive anything good from themselves except by restraint; they're only satisfied with themselves when they're disguised. Each one strives to resemble himself least of all. Each one chooses a pattern, then imitates it; in fact, they don't even choose the pattern they imitate, they accept one that's already chosen. And yet, I think, other things can be read in man. No one dares to. They don't dare to turn the page. Laws of imitation; I call them laws of fear. People are afraid of finding themselves alone, and they don't find themselves at all. This moral agoraphobia is hateful to me; it's the worst kind of cowardice. And yet it is only when alone that people are inventive. But who here is trying to be inventive? Whatever a man feels to be different in himself is precisely the rare thing he possesses, the thing that constitutes each man's wotrh - and it's that very thing they try to eradicate. They imitate. And they claim to love life!'"

-on culture:

"'...I depicted artistic culture as an emanation from a given people, like a secretion that at first is diagnostic of a plethora, a superabundance of health, then immediately co
ng
eals and hardens, cutting off all direct contact between the mind and nature, hiding the diminution of life beneath the persistent semblance of life, an unyielding sheath in which the confined spirit languishes and soon withers, then dies. Finally, carrying my train of thought to the extreme, I stated that culture, which is born of life, becomes the killer of life."

-this can't be the first time it was said, but:

"'A man thinks he owns things, and it's he who is owned..."

In all, this book is much more than a description of Michel's attempt to rid himself of morals. The word "morality" is used to express everything made by man and constrained by man's rules. Michel constantly bumps into these rules and by breaking them reaches a state of being he never expected to encounter. Alas, once there he finds that living without the rules is, while more pleasureable at times, more difficult by far than conforming. Where does the purpose of living come from if not from society? Searching for one's own answer to that question is perhaps the end in itself. I automatically distrust those who claim they've already found it (or at least more than partial bits of truth), isn't there always more? And I exit with a nod to Michel as he utters this last query to his listeners, a pessimistic ending if ever, but one that reveals that for all of Michel's so-called immorality, he still bears some burden, if not quite guilt, for his knowledge.

"What frightens me, I confess, is that I'm still very young. I sometimes feel as if my real life hasn't begun yet. Rescue me from this place now and give me reasons for living. I can no longer find any. I've won freedom, possibly, but what for? I'm suffering from this freedom that has no purpose. Believe me, it's not because I'm worn out by my crime, if you wish to call it that - but I must prove to myself that I didn't claim more than what was due to me."

Let's rock out!

I will admit this comes from an Artvoice cover story so is maybe less than creative journalism on my part, but it is still worth mentioning. A US official in Iraq wrote this memo to his superior officer, outlining some of the critical flaws in US policy before and after our so-called victory: . It is definately a good read. The summary article by Jason Vest does an excellent job of summing everything up: . Basically it reveals just how precarious our position in Iraq is today, and perhaps more tellingly, how many high-ranking officials within and outside of the Bush Administration accurately predicted the many shortfalls of our plans. We have fucked up big time, and unfortunately it is the Iraqis (and our enlisted men and women) who are to ultimately pay the price. I can only hope, though without much optimism, that the omens of Vietnam we see and hear everyday don't become reality.

Choice advocates from around the country gathered in Washington DC to voice there opposition to Bush and his anti-choice views. It was the largest gathering of its kind since Roe v Wade was first argued before the Supreme Court in 1973.

Key issues included:

-The winner of the 2004 presidential election could be responsible for appointing two or more Supreme Court justices, and abortion rights supporters fear Roe v. Wade could be overturned if President Bush fills those vacated seats with like-minded conservative justices.

-Last November, Bush signed the Partial-Birth Abortion Ban Act of 2003, a law to end certain late-term abortions.

-President Bush signed into law April 1 the Unborn Victims of Violence Act, which states that when a criminal act causes harm to a pregnant woman the suspect can be charged with a crime against the fetus as well.

Well not that cruel really, but... The coop is not open for roosting or beer drinking. We tried to go and the door never opened. Lilho tried to go and there's no one there. Ketchup chips are not the key. No beer for the weary. No beer for the persistent. Aw shucks, no beer for anyone.

I am confused. About what to be, what to do. I am too pessimistic. I don't believe in anything. I think too gobally, it's hard to have hope that way. I need to think about my own circle more, what I can influence. And start believing that it matters. That if I try I can make something happen. But more importantly, that what I make happen will have some significance. Do I even care to be significant? Does it matter. Am I too selfish? Is there anything else? I need to convince myself that trying to change the world is happiness. Even if there is little hope of the world being changed. Right?

sidenote: clowns driving cars like normal people is just wrong. Honey the clown was stopped next to us at the light, and when she saw me staring she game me a real creepy clown-smile. Sends shudders down my spine just thinking about it.

Scientists have successfully created the first child of two mothers-that's right, no sperm, or males at all, needed. It is so far just a mouse but hopefully soon we will have adapted the procedure for humans and can be done with the scourge of man forever. Then we will all live in peace, harmony (we shall all stay inside around that time of the month), and great fashion (so shoot me). But really it is quite fascinating. They took eggs from two female mice and managed to create a viable offspring who matured naturally and was even able to sexually reproduce. I wonder if Rosie/Ellen have heard yet, or maybe are secretly behind the whole thing.

and I never even saw him, I don't think at least. We were, of course, cordoned off about 200 yards from Kleinhans where the Prez delivered his thang. I saw a couple men debark from gigantic vans and sleek limos but who knows who they were, maybe one was him. It was a great turnout. I estimate around 500-700 protestors and 20-40 supporters. Signs and singing and chants, hoots, and hollers. Great fun. The police force was pretty massive, but very under control. We were stuck in some kinda freedom of speech zone behind orange mesh, and the only time the police intervened was when a bit of it came loose, perhaps enabling a stray protestor within 199 yards of his majesty. Meeting actual Bush supporteers kinda gives me the creeps, I just can't believe they're anywhere near the majority. Most today were of the Bible-thumpin' variety (a couple actually had Bibles in hand), plus a couple young republicans. It was almost sad how they were trying, starting chants only to be drowned out by the vast majority. The sneers-reminiscent of Dubya's own sneaky smirk-as they tried to save face at their very obvious minority-status. I hope it gave them a little idea of how the policies of their leader alienate and discriminate against minorities everywhere everyday.

So, my personal favorite: The apparenet ring-leader of the other side was this blonde very SS-looking guy, hair shaved at the bottom and all. He was handing out pamphlets to the others and actually trying to have discourse with the rest of us (and I have to say he was very civil about it, and seemed educated about the topics-he was one of the 'real' enemies who knows whats really going on and approves, as oppossed to the ignorant Bible-thumpers). I overheard another woman say he had written books and everything. So now that I had located the leader I thought I would have a little fun. Paul and I grabbed a sign and Stickboy wrote "Nazis for Bush" while Paul added a couple swastikas for good measure. I slowly eased closer until I was right next to him and then I raised my sign over our heads. There's a picture on the front page. It was mucho fun. I mean I could easily pass for a Nazi and so could he, so it made sense and all. People would start to stare at me, slowly read the sign, and burst out in laughter. Once the nuts found out about the prank they were a little distraught, but there was really nothing they could do, they were ringed in all sides by anti-Bushers and had nowhere to go. So for the rest of the protest me and my little Naziettes valinantly defended our Führer from his unworthy assailants. Oh fun.

I feel the need to post, but not the desire. Let's shorten things... Sunny sunny day. Shirt-off hikin' along the river sittin atop bald knoll hawks wheelin' above us hankypankaspank with husbands two oh the joy of matrimony dear over two hundred at the grocery store kitchen cleaning guest tomorrow and Bush is here on Tuesday. AAAHHH!

I have to return this book tomorrow, so here's the final quote from The Market Revolution:

On the Senate floor of the Polk administration (1844-48), discussing the annexation of Texas, Senator Benton "predicted it would regenerate the "Yellow Race"[Mexican] which he ranked far above the black brown and red races... 'but still, far below the White; and, like all the rest, must receive an impression from the superior race whenever they come in contact. It would seem that the White race alone received the divine command, to subdue and replenish the earth!...Civilization, or extinction, has been the fate of all people who have found themselves in the track of the advancing Whites.'"

I suppose we're working on "regenerating" the Iraqis now by allowing them to receive an "impression" from us benevolent "Whites". Don't they understand that in the "track of the advancing Whites" there is no choice except "civilization or extinction"? Learn some history Iraqis and get in line!