"Undermining my electoral viability since 2001."

Let the clutch out easy...

I'm back, but still not quite in action. I slept in very late -- worst travel day ever -- and then managed to go through all my old email and stumble down to Bilzburg for a peacewilliamsburg event. Mainly I went because on my walk back to my house from the airport I saw a flier and noticed that the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players would be there and I've wanted to see them for a while. It was a good evening. I especially liked Jennifer Miller's Allen Ginsburg light bulb eating act and Jeneane Garaffalo's "pushing 40" political satire. She's sharper now (to me) than she's ever been, especially now that she's not exclusively making fun of herself. It's a better performance tactic: let's the audience love you a little more.

The event as a whole was impressive. I still think my generation is going to eat the current crop of gen-xers alive when the chips are down, but these kids are allright.

Also, I've a full grop of tales from my trip to tell you: leaving new york is hard, suck my coolo chica, port wine relaxation, sunny friday breakdown, poop jokes at the trap, puke rock/samba participation, lamp array, the tall fashionista read my website, someone dosed my drink, rome is burning, we're getting old, the blazers always loose, young republicans, dirty and wounded in suburban Portland, and the long trip back.

All that and more over the coming weeks. I'll probably write them up as non-blog pages attached somehow to the previous Ren Fayre reportage.

In addition to that it's time to put the screws to it. There's a ton of work to be done, art to be channeled, friends and love to be made; yep, time get the old praxis machine humming yet again. We've been stalled out for too long here. Pump the gas twice, spark the ignition, let the clutch out easy...

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Quick Check Girl

There's a kind of romance buried within the stinking hung-over puke-crusted heart of punk rock. We dance in circles and fiddle while Rome is burning, and people are too paranoid and unsure of themselves to step out of the trance. It takes five seconds to decide. Lamp-Rey silliness threatens to capsize the whole affair, and I can't seem to spell worth crap. Keep it together. All will be told. It's been a good weekend so far and now the Blazers are on. It's opposite year, so maybe we have a chance.

Comments anyone?

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Ciao Bella

I'm gone to Portland, Ren Fayre bound. I'm sure you'll get by quite allright without me.

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Keep Bouncing

So I struggle for relevance, trying to keep everything spinning the way it needs to spin. Axiom went off last night and I'm bouied by the whole thing. I love it. People share. People laugh. People hook up afterwards and have sex. It's a real thing, and it gives me strength and passion and a sense of well being.

Also, for anyone thinking about or running a website, a piece of advice. Letting your yankee doodle sweetheart know about some other girl you hooked up with -- even if it was way back when, before things were serious -- via the public internet is not likely to engender good feelings. Maybe I have a secret inner subconscious thirst for scorn. Dunno. But here's the real story of Sasha and Josh.

And now with Janes Addiction pumping new wine into my exquisite corpse, I feel like exploring a new trail. I feel very high on life, but maybe I'm just a day tripper. I want to be more than I am, and maybe that starts with leaving the house more, with not disclaiming so much, with full automatic guns blazing honesty. The road to utopia is charted with the ability to open it all up.

Other News

I know this is all over blogdom, but William Gibson is discontinuing his. His reasons are apt: it hurts his creative process. This gives me pause, for I can feel that all this content I push out might stand more of a chance if I were patient and considered and coelesced my energy. Food for thought.

Finally, a website and concept I know and love and don't link to often enough. If you're looking for soul, splash around in the storytelling pond of the fray.

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