"Undermining my electoral viability since 2001."

Devil Makes Three

Photographic evidence from the 3030 club in Arcata:

dancin' fool

Me with the stripey shirt.

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Big Dinner

Farsheed's got some fresh tunes. Click play at the top of the page. If I were mo' fly I'd figure out how to play tracks along with my blog posts.

So this is making me think about a different life, one in which I live in a smaller town, someplace with a college, and I have an old car that doesn't work very well, but which I use to get around and do the things I need to do. It's an American Dreamlife, where my concerns don't spread much beyond the hills that cradle the town. It's a dream where I have less money, but where my life costs less, and I have less work to do, so it makes sense to take time to shop and cook and spend time making the yard look nice.

I think about what it would be like to be in an institution I liked, to have a path. What it would be like to have fewer worries, fewer known unknowns. Perhaps I'm losing my will to power, but it all sounds pretty nice to me; living a human-sized life in a nice community.

Maybe it's just springtime making me whistful, remembering sunlight glinting off the copper decoration worked around a building on Broadway down by NYU, walking with a girl. Other things, times. Different people I have been, could have been, pretended to be.

My current position is impermanent, both on it's face and in light of my ramblin' ways. But just simply movin' on isn't near enough for me anymore. Tension. Need to kick out the jams.

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Big Dinner

Farsheed's got some fresh tunes. Click play at the top of the page. If I were mo' fly I'd figure out how to play tracks along with my blog posts.

So this is making me think about a different life, one in which I live in a smaller town, someplace with a college, and I have an old car that doesn't work very well, but which I use to get around and do the things I need to do. It's an American Dreamlife, where my concerns don't spread much beyond the hills that cradle the town. It's a dream where I have less money, but where my life costs less, and I have less work to do, so it makes sense to take time to shop and cook and spend time making the yard look nice.

I think about what it would be like to be in an institution I liked, to have a path. What it would be like to have fewer worries, fewer known unknowns. Perhaps I'm losing my will to power, but it all sounds pretty nice to me; living a human-sized life in a nice community.

Maybe it's just springtime making me whistful, remembering sunlight glinting off the copper decoration worked around a building on Broadway down by NYU, walking with a girl. Other things, times. Different people I have been, could have been, pretended to be.

My current position is impermanent, both on it's face and in light of my ramblin' ways. But just simply movin' on isn't near enough for me anymore. Tension. Need to kick out the jams.

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Got Paranoia?

With the decay of the right-wing-revolution becoming more and more apparent all around, some of these movement conservative leaders and agitators are starting to loose their focus.

This is truly disgusting.

That's right, the drug-addled children of Marxists who somehow still control our government are too weak to confront "The Muslim Threat" and we should just kill 100 Million of "them" or so... and by the way this Duke rape case is and example of a "dirtbag whore" making accusations and wouldn't be an issue if it weren't for the "lesbian feminist movement."

Oi. I would call this shit just plain crazy if it weren't so ugly and venomous and listened to by about eight million Americans on a weekly basis. If the hegemon becomes most militarily active in its period of decline, there must be some parallel for the cultural warriors within a political movement.

This campaign season is going to get ugly.

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