In a straightaway I'm slower on my bicycle than a car, but I retain an edge in agility and I disobey the law. These are really the advantages. City cycling is a ballet of sorts, a thing of rhythm and unity in motion. There are a plethora of variables that enter and exit your equation as you ride block to block. Car door, hill, streetlight, jogger, dog walker, left turn only, yadda yadda yadda. The ability of a rider to carve through time, to see ahead as a speed chess player does -- not with absolute precision, but with sufficient confidance to make a move without pausing for conscious thought -- is the differentiator between recreational cyclists and true riders.

It is the difference between tourism and adventure, between a pleasent diversion and a lifestyle choice.

My position in the world as a rider colors my other experience. I'm comfortable, even desirous of sustained physical exertion. I am comfortable with my sweat, comfortable playing with degrees of energy and torque that could be lethal if misapplied. I am urban calvary. Riding thrusts you into your environment just as driving a car removes you from it; when in transit I exist in a public space, subject to the same forces as any other object of being. This changes the way you feel about your cubicle at work, your room at home, your booth at the bar, etc etc etc.

Lately as I've been down and out some, I've taken to riding hard and high to work through things. Methodically climbing big hills in SF, I answer questions to myself; I ruminate, preachify, storm and thunder, rhapsodize; all to the rhythm set up in my thighs and pushed through my knees to my feet to the pedal crank chain gear spoke weel tube rubber road. Higher and higher. With my slick set of wheels geared all the way down, dropping one leg's full pistoning potential will cause my front end to kick up off the street even on the steepest of car-chase hills. Iggy Pop; raw power is sure to come running to you.

There's something to this, to the working and maneuvers. The downhill glee, and the syncopation of threading through other objects in motion. When I swing around a corner on a steady great arc, passing pretty crosswalk girls close enough to carry an eddy of perfume in my wake there's a thrill of quality and excellence that's absolutely priceless and addictive. There's an edge of death and danger and reptilian satisfaction to all of this, and it colors the rest of my experience. The life of a rider is saturated and high-contrast, and when we fall off our horses, there's nothing for it but to get back up and ride again.

You know, I get emails sometimes from my friends back in New York, people doing art and making fun bits of fancy. And I IM with random kids I've met through MfA and politics; child prodegy in Alaska; highschool punk rocker facing expulsion over asking questions about a teacher getting fired, his dad's been called up to serve a two year hitch; Mordecai, etc. I talk to two early-teen kids on their way to the mall via caltrain, they want to know about my shoes, what I do, so I give them a card. They're surprised I've never been to the Hillsdale mall, that I don't own a car, but they seem to think it's cool too.

I read things about what other people think is important, what other people believe in, what other people organize their lives around, and some of it makes sense and a some of it doesn't, but what's missing is something that works for me. What is it, excatly, that I'm trying to accomplish here... am I just trying to assuage my concience so I can go back to making art? Seems it's become something more than that, but why and what exactly it's become is confounding at the moment.

What am I capable of? How wide a gap can I bridge? Does it make sense to hold on to anarchists and rebel leaders with one hand and establishment electoral politics with another? Is it even possible to be a conduit for that kind of energy transfer? Does being involved in technology and culture help? Do I have credibility? Am I cool enough to attempt this? To what extent should I plan and control, and to what extent should I cut loose and ride the lightning?

Looking back on a year, I don't exactly know how I got here or even precisely where I am. I'm not complaining, just pointing out the presence of mystery and confusion. What's my role here? Good question.

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.

I feel good. After a high-pressure February, I find myself relaxed, relatively fit, and confident about the future. I'm looking forward to getting away from it all, and finding the next short-term focal point, but my general feeling is positive. I'm breathing deeply and enjoying simple sensations like bananna eating and bike riding.

If there's anyone else out there who liked reading atlases as a kid, you'll love this site as much as I do: NationMaster.com.

This weekend I did a panel with several Hiphop activists and the one and only KRS-1. I also took in some of the new stuff that's coming out of working-class and suburbia caucasia. I wrote it all up on my MfA blog. More will come, but read that for now.

I'm over at Hastings for a conference. I wrote up the first panel for my MfA blog.

My panel was good. I don't think I was imagining it that the audience was fullest for us, being that we had the massive star power. I was sitting between Krist Novoselic (bassist for Nirvana) and Fat Mike of NOFX, with Jenny Toomey (Director of the awesome Future of Music Coalition) sitting in and moderating. Nervous! I think I did ok though. People had positive feedback for me, and I'm hoping to get some constructive criticism tomorrow. It was kind of a rush.

Lawrence Lessig is a-fucking-mazing. I've been a fan of his work for a while, but I'd never seen/heard him live. His presentaion was one step shy of genius theater of the mind. His pacing; his use of visuals and music; his messge which is down-to-earth and intellectually as close to bullet proof as it gets... I want to put this man on tour all over the nation to promote Free Cultre, or at least rip off his act and get enough people excited that we can stick The Man Himself on the Supreme Court. I'll try to find video of that if I can.

In all it was an interesting day. I was surprised at how many misconceptions were floating around. The notion that filesharing cut into music industry profits was gospel, when in fact it's highly debatable. The technology community was also somewhat underrepresented. Nowhere was this more apparent than in the keynote of State Senator Kevin Murray. I was called away from his work in-progress to prep for my panel, which was a good thing because half way through it I was almost in full rant mode. I took notes during his speech and I will send his office a message with some far more laid-back responses than I would have given in-person. I don't know if any attention will be paid, but I'd like to educate the man.

Anyway, it was a great experience. There were a lot of smart, good-looking, energetic people there. I got to tag-team-transcribe one panel via SubEthaEdit and Rendzevious (my new favorite way to know who's definitely "in the know" about tech at these things). I got to shmooze a little later. It was fun to talk in front of folks. If I can keep this up without getting hooked on Hubris (good luck, comanche) I might get to make it a more regular thing.

Trippi's new org is taking shape. According to this there will be a localized meeting in SF, which I will probably attend. See you there?

I'm in the office. It's 2am. I'm stuffing envelopes, working on a dvd, and setting up some mailing lists. I'm fairly confidant that in four or eight years this will be more commonplace experience. As it is I feel a little like a pioneer.

This next week is going to be a doozy. I may find the jangled energetic fortitude to make dispatches from the front; maybe I"ll take that scene over to MfA. Dunno quite yet.

Hey. Sorry for leaving that mopey post up for so long. I've been busy and things are better. My bike seat's been stolen twice, but Frank is moving in and MfA is taking off. I've got all kinds of things to write about, but no time for anything at the moment. I haven't even called my mom!

I feel good about a lot of things; things are still moving.