"Undermining my electoral viability since 2001."

Consistancy: the Proof is in the Pudding

So let's wrap our heads around this; Tommy gets 9 months for paraphinalia and Rush goes to rehab in spite of trafficing in 1000s of pills. I'm not saying Rush should go to jail; I wouldn't advocate sending an addict to prision, much as the perverse irony of forcing the mother of all windbags to follow his own advice appeals to the political warrior in me. It would be fun, but it would also be wrong.

Let's talk about the truth and chemicals. It's true that drug use, abuse and addiction can all be destructive for individuals and communities. It's also true that none of these are necessarily so, that in fact the reverse may be true depending on the individual circumstances and the substance involved. It's also true that sending people to prison is perhaps the most expensive and least effective way of dealing with the social problems that drugs create. Finally, it also seems true that if we're going to have a free society, that freedom aught to include chemical liberty, the recognition that our bodies are our own property, and as such we have sovereignty over our own phisiology.

Perhaps Rush's admission will cause the mindlocked debate over drugs in our society to shamble forward a step or two. Perhaps it will cause people to stop demogauging about substances and start thinking about how we might inject a little sanity into our legislative system. I think it will probably take a new generation -- probably mine since generation X seems to do fuck-all -- to get this country off it's 100-year puritan rampage and back into the smooth groove of reason. It's going to take people stepping away from ideology and lore and into the realities of human experience. On a meta level, this is movement that's picking up steam, so maybe there's cause for hope yet.

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I'm sick; some kind of cold. I think it might be stress related along with the fact that I've got pimples on my forehead for the first time in four years and my hair seems to be falling out. The good news is I've got a nice comfey bed, a kettle and some tea, and a couple good books to see me through. The bad news is that Ahnuld is now the governor; though I think he'll face a recall too -- probably at the same time as the presidential primary in March.

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Shout, Shout

Working hard for the future... good conversation with Marcus tonight; good times at the office and after with co-workers. It's an adventure, moving to a new place. Lots of stimulation in lots of ways, and almost all of it positive.

Now time to knuckle, to bear down as my Father would say. A savage orgy of production is the only thing I will accept from myself over the next two weeks.

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Groping For Meaning

There's a serious problem in this country when paragraphs like this appear from prominant (Maureen Dowd) columnists in major (NY Times) newspapers with regards to the recent re-revelation of gubernatorial candidate Ahhhnold's shabby treatment of women:

Now Republicans who thundered against Bill — not Arnold, who scorned impeachment as a waste of time and money — argue that peccadilloes are not relevant to governing. And feminists who backed Bill are ushering Arnold gropees up to the Democratic microphones.

Let's get something fucking straight. Bill Clinton received consensual oral sex from an intern in his office, and while this wasn't an issue in the attendant media circus, I'll bet he reciprocated too. Arnold Schwarzenegger on the other hand made several specific, aggressive, crude, unwanted, unsuccessful and non-consensual advances towards women, detailed quite sickeningly here. These are completely, utterly, and indisputably different sets of actions with absolutely separate moral content and value. One guy I understand, the other makes me ashamed to have the same gender.

You can argue that Clinton abused his power in an indirect way with regards to his affair w/Ms. Lewinski, but the situation still boils down to two consenting adults having fun with one another. He's a playboy in a long tradition of playboys, and while I wish dearly he'd have had the spine to admit it at the time (might have dragged this country forward a step) I still maintain that he didn't do anything all that wrong. He fucked around with someone, and that is essentially personal -- between he and his mistress and his wife.

Arnold's actions, on the other hand, showcase a completely different set of values. He's either a straight-up abuser, or he doesn't have the human sensibility to know when his advances are unwanted, goes around humping people whenever he feels like it. Looking at his sum total history, one gets the sense that a lot of what he does is about power, and that his crudely aggressive sexuality is an extension of that. His blatant use of power -- both physical and professional -- to sucessfully perpitrate these ugly sex pranks really makes the whole thing take on a dark tone; it's not fun or good or happy. It approaches the realm of evil.

And if he weren't an enormously powerful man, he would have been kicked in the nuts several times by now and probably learned his lesson. But he hasn't, and his attitude towards women is not funny, right, nice or even excusable. He's a fucking dick, the guy at the party everyone just wants to leave, and his behavior enrages me personally as a man.

The fact that his past actions are being paralelled with Clinton's would be laughable if it weren't so sick underneath. Are we still too puritanically straightlaced to be honest about sex and power? Do people seriously not see the difference between consenting sex (even if it is adultry) and aggressive harassment? If so, that's pretty fucking degrading. It's a shameful reflection of this nation's maturity and still-lingering misogyny that these two types of sexual interaction are being equated in the national political press.

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Roses are Red

So Tom Tomorrow as the text of a poem by our Commander in Chief. What's the worst part? The carrier reference? The fact that he referrs to his wife as "lump in my bed?" I don't know, but it makes me feel uneasy in new and perilous ways.

I havn't been pushing out the same quantity of political observations lately. Partly that's because I've moved and have lots of personal observations that I think are worthwhile. Partly that's because I'm kind of fulltime on politix and I don't always have as much mojo left at the end of the day. Partly it's because I'm reaching for a mannifesto; trying to build something up that's more than a couple paragraphs of the same old same old. We'll see.

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Found Art

Out for a walk, window-shopping bikes and housewares, saw some dress shoes power-screwed to a plywood construction wall over the posters, highly reminiscent of where I got my painting last night. They had little typed messages on them.

"Who are we trying to impress?"
"Who do you watch?"
"Who watches you?"

It's beauty here in my new 'hood. Not a starbucks in sight, but a beautiful homey cafe just downstairs; nice Korean(?) couple, lots of regulars, classical music, wifi. Strolling along in the afternoon; sun; palm trees; it's fucking California, the street with a mexican feeling. Looks like I'll be trading my greasy pizza by the slice for tacos, a change of pace is nice.

And is it just me, or has the RIAA going after Kazaa users made Gnutella a much more lively place to swap files? The music industry is painfully clueless. Technology remains at least one step ahead of the law, and the gap is widening. Adapt or die, sucka.

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How was your date, Outlandish Josh?

I went on a more or less blind date tonight; girl who's phone number I got last weekend, more than a few drinks along. Here's what went down. Feeling free to be assholically honest because this young woman doesn't have a computer, prolly never see it.

She's a fit white republican/libertarian deadhead bartender and sales enthusiast, an aspiring writer from small-town Michigan with an intense marijuanna habbit and a lot of big ideas about a government who's only function is to patrol the borders. She's 21; started a think-tank with a friend. Yeah, welcome to San Francisco.

But she's cute; gap toothed, competative in wit and a player at the game of pool. We did some sushi and some pool at a dive bar -- only one game head to head, but a jovial time -- then crossed town to hit up a house party at one of these pot clubs they have around here. Lot's of sturdy older folks with grass. Lawyers and clean-up titans balancing out the flaky or over the top denizens.

He's got clippings of his victories posted to the wall. "I got this guy and freed that guy and won this one; and this one, this one I defended the right of this local artist to sell his paintings on the streets. I see him out there sometimes." He's the right kind of guy, throwing out welcoming arms even to the needy and un-listening attention hogs and cynics of the world.

But it was mostly dead, so we got dutifully high and shot the shit a bit, my best moment feeling kinship with the rugged guy taking charge of the garbage. On the walk home digging the vibe of the city and having a girl to stroll with. We endured some slight tension in the red light tenderloin, a crowd of frattish guys with no manners, but soon hopped a vintage trolly, one of the old authentic San Francisco models from the art-deco era. Gorgeous atmostphere.

On the walk from there we found an art gallery thrown up over the ubiquitous poster advertisements. It was budget gallery, one of their wild postings. I got a good little painting (a touch warped, presumably by fog) for $15, and a token of my first night living in San Fransisco.

So the story has a dull ending. We went back to her place and met the roommates. I had water and made funny with everyone, some more smoke to go around, until eventually it was time to come home. She walked me and we hugged; and now I sit on my sleeping pad with my hip-bottle of wild turkey and it's last two inches.

I'm not back like that yet, and I don't know how to talk to younger girls and her chemicality was a little offputting. I feel like I imagine Jeremy did the first night he went out with Stanton, a wild party uptown and her SLC emegre wild child chafing with his straightlaced New England Mayflower style. Back in August 2001, the place where I met yuliya. But tonight I couldn't get any real chemestry going, even though the conversation was pretty good and she's certainly an attractive woman. Perhaps another spin before judgement. Can't help but think of this as one of those awful television shows, but I guess that's just part of the culture.

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Outgoing mail

So I recently discovered that outgoing mail from me sent between tuesday and thursday may not have gone out. If you're expecting to hear from me, ping me again please.

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The clickyclackityclickyclack is starting to decline and the power-stroke is coming on; foot pedal crank gear chain gear hub spoke wheel rubber road -- streaming away into the past along with time's arrow, freewheel burning. Tomorrow I should be signing for an apartment. The signal to noise ratio is improving as the number of moving parts in my life approaches a managable level. Meeting people is easy, business is falling into place with the power of superconducting magnets. We're definitely in sync with the laws of physics here. Plus I got a new toy!


See my new haircut? Thanks kim!

I could get soft out here... iSights, Aeron chairs (50% off at the .com repo furniture warehouse; I kid you not) and an office with a retractable roof in a place where it's seemingly sunny all the time. The only thing we lack is a good stock of juiceboxes in the fridge.

So hopefully the momentum will continue as the process becomes streamlined. Rumble young man rumble; looking forward to setting up camp here in the Bay, maybe even meeting some girls. I picked up a few phone numbers last weekend, but life has been such a fireball I haven't followed up on any of that. Young girls; I don't even know how to talk to them. Suppose I better learn.

If you're feeling a little blue, maybe you just need a group hug. It takes your confession -- some are just brilliant -- and displays it in charming style. I like; helps if you write all lowercase, like ee cummings, who I recently discovered was one handsome man.

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