the man at zoar, wasn't killed [inlink]paul,914[/inlink], but jumped to his death . They found a suicide note at his house and his parents said he had a history of depression. Well, I am glad at least that it wasn't a murder, since it's our favorite place to go in the summer. What a way to go. A few seconds of flight. If I ever killed myself I think I would do something similar, maybe out of a plane though.

Also, the black pastors defending "traditional" marriage from gay attack make me sick [inlink]paul,915[/inlink] [inlink]terry,119[/inlink]. The right to marry isn't a civil right? What about the right to marry a white woman if you want? Would you pastors mind if that right was denied you? It's just disgusting to me when minorities fight against each other when we should be together fighting the system keeping us all down.

Liz your dream sounds freaky. Especially the part about grandma. She shouldn't be hanging out in your scary dreams, she should be knitting and baking pies, not scaring you at the foot of the bed.

I had a dream this morning involving two other estrippers, paulnotpaul and trisha. It was very strange. We were packing or something, more like not packing since we kept forgetting what we were doing. The weirdest part of the dream was that paulnotpaul was wearing my body and i was wearing his. I don't know why, just that it was true. It wasn't quite fair cause he (in my body) was naked and I had clothes on. Anyway we were trying to pack the stuff and there seemed to be more and more stuff. Oh yeah Ronnie was somehow in the dream too and she had these white furry raver-type pants that she gave me. And trisha and I held them on top of the refreigerator and painted them jellow with spray paint so that I could wear them. Somehow the dog got into the paint and turned it all red (on the top of the refrigerator mind you) but then it was cool cause the red and yellow kinda looked like some strange cubist painting.

So what does a boy do who doesn't want to become a chubby American? Per Maria's (Paul's mommie) suggestion, I bought myself a pair of $6 clearance rollerblades. I remember really liking skating when I was a kid and have enjoyed my chance excursions upon the ice atop metal blades. Tonight was my second trip. The first time I really just hated them; they seemed like a bother compared to bikes, especially considering the sad state of Buffalo roads. Tonight I decided to give them another run. I saw some girls waft by my house with apparent ease and thought that it must be easier than my first attempt led me to believe. So I go out tonight intent on a beautiful rollertastic evening. I start by going on the street and make my way towards the park. It's much easier than the last time and I get into a sort of rythym. I go to the park and back to the circle on Chapin/Bidwell and decide to make my way back home.
Rollerblading is akin to running in strenuousness, and by this point I am tired. I get to the end of the long street only to realize that I've somehow looped back on myself and am at the park again. "OK," I think, let's really go home now. I am very tired and my feet are dragging a bit, I try to focus on my stroke but can only keep it up for a minute or two at a time. I finally get to the end of St. James and am making my way up Elmwood when a car goes by and I hear faintly, "that dude's on rollerblades, hahaha." I think oh shit someone wants to mess with a dude struggling on rollerblades, and sure enough, I hear the squeal of tires and the car is turning around in my direction again.
I reflect now on my situation, I am very tired and wearing devices which, if I attempted something so foolhardy as defending myself in,would surely result in me landing on the pavement with a sore ass and a menacing attacker to boot. So they pull up in front of me and ask me, "where's the fag on rollerblades going?" I, very politely of course, hastiliy cross the street and strain towards the, now visible, home-base, and hope that they're just guys fucking with the rollerblader and not guys wanting to kill the rollerblader. Needles to say, as I am currently typing and not dying on Elmwood, I made it back, but still the point remains that why in the fuck do you need to fuck with the harmless rollerblader, who is having a hard enough time keeping his own ass upright and has no intentions of hurting anyone besides himself? Yes, I look like a dork with them on, but does that give someone the right to fuck with me? At least I feel a little thinner, running (or rollerblading) from sure-death beats the hell out of Atkins!

but, i think, we are the progenitor. Arundhati Roy has a new post on Common Dreams about the new India-Patriot Act called POTA (Prevention of Terrorism Act), and the fleeting possibilty that something new may come about through elections. Much like our year here it is an election year in India, and as you may have heard, the Congress (a left-of-center group perhaps comparable to our Democrats) has gained power under the leadership of Sonia Gandhi (daughter of Indira). Unfortunately, like here, the Congress has little new to offer: they have little to say about the unchallenged POTA act which has condemned thousands to toture and death. Would John Kerry repeal the Patriot act? A good question, since he won't say one way or the other. I doubt he would try to implement the next-wave Patriot-act two, but as far as curtailing or ending Patriot itself, I have little hope. Take what you will from the plight of India, what I take is that they are in shit as deep as we are, and I think we all need a dose of new-thinking. About government, society, and whether we need larger organizations running our lives, be they govs, corps, or churches. They all fuck around with all of us. It is time we, the people, take control, or perhaps just lose our control. Taking control implies that we want to control our neighbors, but true freedom only happens when you don't need to. Let's all recognize everyone's right to freedom. ANARCHY!!!

Cell phone camera plus downshine lamp with upturned face = fun faces for posting. I have a couple I shall interchange for your viewing pleasure. The first is a kinda charcoal rendering, maybe I drew it by hand...maybe. But I could, really. Allen Ginsberg is perhaps intent that I memorize his poems. His sonorous voice drones through my head. I know where they go, to death; though I weep for this antiquity, and herald the millennium... Hmmm... think of charcoal terry head reciting Ginsburg ad infinitum.... AAAAHHHHH

Also! Click on my userpic to the right-it has a fun/very strange thing to listen to. Yay for fun with computer night.

without of course the swimming, it is only may you know! Layed on the rocks, gazed at the birds slowly circling with the thermals above the canyons, watched bugs, ate gross subway (i remember now why I haven't eaten there in a couple years), a bunch of kayakers/boaters docked at the rocky beach we were enjoying. They only stayed a moment, and some were nice to look at, but we didn't say one word to them, or vice-versa. Talked about nature and where we fit into it. How many "higher" organisms such as oursleves also show a total disrespect for the rest of nature. Elephants ripping up entire trees to get the choice tender leafs at the top, big cats scratching furrows into tree bark to show they've been there, locusts swarming entire regions bare of anything remotely edible. Of course, as Paul pointed out, this doesn't give us an excuse to do the same, it just cements us into nature's eternal loop of use or be used. Of course, we are just "high" enough organisms to use ourselves (and everything else) past the point of no return, oh goodie! Staring at the big trees and the rushing water, though, it's hard to imagine how it was all worth it to get to where we are now. Strip malls and cookie-cutter housing developments, what was so wrong with what was there before that we had to go and asphalt it all? Oh humans, what foibles and follies abound in our quest for truth, life, and liberty. Maybe if we stopped asking for answers and just started looking around we would find all that and more right before our eyes.