Since I heard in the laundymat before going to my poll that Edwards was gonna drop out -- yet another miscarriage of democracy, but who's counting? -- I voted for good ol' Howard, rogue though he was. It's the end of a chapter, the beginning of something new; I'm filing this under general because while it's about politics, it's more about me. About time we had a good old self-centered blog anyway.

One of the things that strikes me now is just how weird this whole thing has been, how weird the political scene is. My roommate Molly, anarchist sailor that she is, opined to me the other night that people who seek to speak for others are not generally the best lot in society. I couldn't help but agree, but contended that it more had to do with the culture which surrounds politics, and not with the nature of politics or humanity itself.

I believe this, but not alltogether steadfastly. The stresses of power attract (and create) strange personalities. I can see it in my own life: moments of irrational aggression, mood swings, fatigue, dreams of impotence and premature ejaculation. Is it any surprise that a great many people -- good, decent, intelligent people -- would rather not be bothered to lend a hand at running the world? And why not? Tenuous as I think they might be, things are still pretty decent here in America. PATRIOT shmatriot; other than frisking in an airport line, most of us don't really feel any less Free. Why involve yourself in all that ugly business if you don't have to? Why take on the responsibility?

I don't believe that people are stupid. I don't even believe that they're necessarily lazy; but it does seem that the human animal likes to avoid responsibility. Hell, I'd like to avoid some responsibility, have some goofy rollicking trucker-hat fun or something. This shit is a real drag a lot of the time, even though I believe taking it on is an essential part of finding purpose.

So where does this leave me; overworked and undersexed, all-in for the next six months to try and make some change happen here in these United States? I don't really know. I'm honestly quite dispirited, looking forward to a long season carrying water for John Kerry. I hope to creating an agenda of my own -- our own -- that I can chamption. Kerry will hopefully be a footnote to my campaign. Perhaps (who knows?) he might rise to the occasion and show himself to be a great and inspiring human being. I'm not counting on anything so grand, but I do think he can beat Bush. But what then? Then it would seem the real work begins.

The real work. Ye gods. The pitch of this task must shift, or else my role evolve. I need allies; people to consort with. I need my people -- somthing I've never really had, shiftless gap-walking ranger that I am. I do little to invite or accomodate, yet I need people to come share the load. Not just to volunteer their time, but to open themselves to the enormity of Everything and help me find the light in all of it. There is lightness in there; progress and humor and love -- I'm sure of it -- but the darkness and void predominates, and as a lonesome actor it is dauntingly much to confront.

This is the low after the high, the day after Disneyland, but given what this particular Magic Kingdom contained it was somewhat less fun. It'll get better. But what it will be I cannot say. Let's put some makeup on this pig. But first get me a pound of peanut m&m's; I need to hibernate.