Maybe we are obsessed. We now have over 50 varieties of plants in our house. Today we went shopping at this place we like called:
RUDOLPH GALLEY & SONS
2722 CLINTON ST
(716)822-9298
(take 190 to S. Ogden exit then head left on Clinton, it's on the left)
anyways, they have really cheap plants. We bought ten or so today for like $1.99 each. They're pretty small, but I kinda like'em that way, cause then wehen they start to get big you feel accomplished. Ridiculous thing is that the pots (just plain ole clay ones) cost $.99 and then you have to buy the drainy thing for underneath for an additional $.99, so it comes down to costing as much money for the pot as for the plant. Someday I will live in a house with no walls showing. Only assorted wild things growing.

Cremaster was strange (well, duh). I saw numbers one and two. One was neat but boring, pretty hyper-colors, dancing ladies, and grapes. Too long for the concept. The second was better, more plot, interesting "story". And of course plasticene love-making. Beesemen. Hives and the queen. I am skipping three, it's three hours long. I am sure it will be the best, if only cuz I'm not there. I need some crisco.

This pretty much sucks.
A bunch of black ministers in Boston have decided that gay people shouldn't have the right to marry like the straight folk. It kinda hurts. I just hate when civil liberty issues get splintered. I always feel that because I am a member of a minority group it makes me associate and feel for other minority groups. We all have to battle against opperssion in whatever form it takes. Through common persecution we have power. Splinters like this take our power, fracture it, and open holes in our commonality. How would it sound if I said that I thought black marriage demeaned the sanctity of white marriage. That the fact that two people who loved each other , but were different from me, was justification for me to deny them rights that I myself enjoyed. It's especially not fair in respect to the fact that so many gay people were at the forefront of the civil rights movement, helping to get balck people the rights that they enjoy today. Shame on these ministers. I am saddened by the fact that they believe their merciful god would condemn so many to live in unequality.

On the positive, San Francisco's mayor has told his county clerk to begin issuing marriage licenses to gay people . Already over 50 couples have been married. Thank you radical San Fran for leading the way to what should be common sense.

Hmmmm...
Today I am little sick. I've been a little sick all week. Not sick enough to say I'm really sick, just a little sick. I have been feeling the i'm-gonna-get-sick-feeling since Monday. I take it to mean that my immune system is still very functional (despite the abuse I put it through) and holding the real-sick at bay. Paul says he feels real-sick. I feel sorry for him. He'll chug the eccinacea (on sale? for $10 yikes!) til he's better though. I blame the sickness on the hell-job, 500 people shouldn't be stacked on top of each other with poor ventilation for hours on end.

Everybody should read The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy (It's the If Everybody Read the Same Book thing, check out Matt's journal [inlink]userName=matthew&blogID=131,[/inlink]). She's is first of all a genius about just about everything, not to mention pretty damn hot. The book takes place in India in the 60s-80s and she uses such neat language and describes her story in a quasi-political context (the story is not about politics so don't be worried if you're not into that). Her writing style is unique, kinda reminds me of Toni Morrison crossed with Kurt Vonnegut.

Lastly, the Cremaster Cycle is coming to Market Arcade this weekend and into next week. Here's a link to the website (thanks Emily for the link):

So Comcast, the nation's largest cable-provider, wants to buy Disney, one of the world's largest media conglomerates (owns ABC and stuff). My question is where will it end? Maybe it won't. So then if eventually all the companies buy all the other companies until there is only one (Highlander-like), and everything we get and buy and do is provided by this one corporation, do we then have a sort of corporate-socialism, where the government is replaced by the all-powerful corporation? I don't know that this would be a great thing or anything, but maybe better than all of them competing against each other with us in the middle. I guess we would have to start calling the CEO president, or leader, or king or something. King Gates? President Turner? Oh fun.

whatever, I'm still glad I wrote it, even if none ya'll muthafuckas reads it. God dreams are strange, Trisha had a dream which changed perspective or confused it somehow. I have multiple-person dreams, in the literary sense. I am sitting in my room. The door opens and it's my mom. She asks me how I'm doing and says I should visit the tortoise soon. She exits and I watch as Terry lingers at his desk. He's trying to decide whether he should do the right thing or just be lazy. Eventually, his shoulders slumped in resignation, he gets up and goes to see the tortoise. He knows something funny is abroad, as I open the door and see the turt. Something is wrong. What? There's the tortoise lying under the heat lamp as usual. I go to toss some greens and notice the shell; it's grown strange. The top is rough and rigid, but seems to have sucked the mass of its growth from the bottom. I pick it up and it makes a tortoise-hiss, a noise halfway between an angry cat and a sitting rock. I turn it over to discover its horribly exposed abdomen. A deshelled tortoise. The sight is hideous and disgusting, and Terry almost drops it in his surprise. His heartbeat is racing, and he hears his mother calling. What is she saying? "Just put him out..."
what, he can't go outside now
"Put him out..."
She's standning right over him now demanding that he, "put that thing out of it's misery." Somehow I have no choice but comply. My hand moves to the hammer. I raise it over my head and bring it down. The tortoise flinches. The hammer comes down again, and he knows that something is wrong, that this just shouldn't be happening. There is no circumstance that he should be involved in that has him crashing a hammer repeatedly into an animal. I think of just hitting the head. One final blow that will finish it so I can just end this horrid experience. But somehow he doesn't do it, the thought of just missing floats through his head; what if I take it all the way off and it...uggghhh. With one final blow to the abdomen the creature mercifully desists struggling against its fate. And then, I just woke up, and I was thinking like what a fucked-up dream to have. And what does it mean. And like what kind of person has these kind of dreams. And then I read everyone else's bizzare dreams/experiences of late, and agree with Rachel that it's the end-of-winter depression setting in. I still hope to not have such horribly realistic fantaies flitting through my slumbering night-mind. Poor tortoise. I hope I don't innardly hate him. It didn't look anything like you, don't worry Boz. Out.