as jawbreaker plays, "i love you so much it's killing us both."
i'm so clever. shit.
turns out joshua gagne has a blog...but he gets PAID! ha! greenoliveyuk.com...check it!
i want to talk about politics; don't get scared. the informality of this blog allows for me to try and sum things up, write things down, and generally have a good time while writing. please bear with me. i'm not sure i can even get my mind behind this stuff...deep thoughts are hard.
it's in the air right now. november is snapping that razorwire of decision - ELECTION - in our collective faces daily.
i'll come back to that.
my brother, jesse, is disinterested in society. the larger part of it anyway. he's a pretty affable, average joe that way. he goes about his business, sometimes curses the politicians, works, and raises his son, deyan.
just another guy feeling the pressure without seeking its source. blame him? no way. he's not a victim, per se, as he has the choice to deal with situations which threaten his liberty in most cases, i would guess. apathy is just where he resides. where millions of americans and hundreds of my friends reside. hell, where i reside usually.
i like to drink. i like getting numb. it's true. i note injustice, from time to time, and do nothing. no course of action is ever prescribed by this guy - both thumbs are pointing at myself, even as i type.
but here's what happened. jesse got his ass too near the flame. the emperor's clothes became transparent. he discovered a rip in our social fabric. and he was pissed.
this was only about two hours ago. he called me, flustered, "What's the word - not 'segregation' - but the word...for...you know, when they discriminate or harass like a section of town...not segregating race or color or anything..."
it was unique. it was interesting. different and exciting. i've been pissed before. everyone around me knows i'm discontent. my brother's not really like that. when he is upset, it's of a more immediate variety - it's anger of the "he said, she said..." variety. and even now, he still hadn't followed his concern to its conclusion...
"I just thought you'd know the term for it..." he began to explain that two weeks ago a friend of his had been stopped by the police. it was at a DWI/DUI check point. near the ground round, if i'm getting this right. she'd had two drinks, and blew a .10 - which, without research (i'm depending on inference based on my brother's upset...), i'm assuming is just the legal limit. okay, fine.
his upset is of the, "where will it end" type. he imagined nightmarish gestapo visions for me. like a gun-nut or wounded animal. but, he has a point, right? okay then.
so, i told him - that's what we've elected officials for. they determine what will be done in our public sectors, including our streets. as representatives of the majority these officials decide that things like stopping every vehicle leaving a certain establishment, street, or end of town for that matter is appropriate. nevermind that they might be making a sober individual late.
jazmine made the point that, as a mother, she'd rather be inconvenienced for a brief period of time and rest well than have her child killed by a drunk-driver.
you can take these scenarios anywhere you want. jesse believes his "rights" are being infringed upon, but what i think is that - without money, influence, or prospects - he's got no "rights." this is a fiction. they can arrest whoever they want whenever they want. "legal" or not. the silly brother was saying, "the founding fathers didn't set it up like this..."
well, brother dear, yes they did. ask black folk. ask women folk. ask native american folk. hell, ask your white-ass self, if you didn't own land...
wrapping that scenario up, i'm proud of him. i'm happy he's starting to care. to think. to see. we're totally fucked - unless...
he does what he's threatening to do. expose this situation. find allies. fight the fight, if it's worth fighting. it IS blatant police-statism, i understand that, but i also detest drunk drivers. i'm not sure where i personally sit on the issue...that's not what this is necessarily about, anyway.
this is about the farce. that daily bullshit. politics and governments. and the...ELECTION.
now, we've got two scenarios sitting before us. that is, we have two, IF you believe there's a difference between the parties...obama/biden - the hope that springs minimally, temporarily. will he fulfill any of these promises...do they ever? mccain/palin - palin's cartoonish ascent to the vice presidential nomination is most probably where my current batch of ultra-cynicism has come from...need i say more?
these two scenarios, the onset of political hysteria that has been sweeping the nation because of them, and numerous conversations about the nature of government and its control with friends and loved ones has got me to thinking. i've begun reading more.
to get back to it. i don't know if i'll vote this year. i've voted during the last five years. local and national elections. but, should i vote? if i shouldn't, why shouldn't i?
hmm...the "why?"
a link on voting, if you've made it this far...
http://dwardmac.pitzer.edu/Anarchist_Archives/bright/reclus/dontvote.html
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
buffalo sally
when we left the bungalow with the metal awning. corrugated, like they sometimes are. hope, max, and i headed towards the back. to a dusty dimly lit corner of the hospital. we laughed with one another, joking about the climb.
when you're around here you'd notice that there's not a whole lot to do or that there's limitless possibilities, depends on how you shape that. so we were gonna climb to the roof. the bungalow was more like a shack. particle board holding it together in a makeshift southern-style. it had a big porch and a banging screen door.
as we passed, our porch on the left, i looked up through the trees. on top of the metal stood a mighty buffalo. snorting and pacing.
"how the hell did a buffalo get up there?" i asked hope.
"i don't know," she said.
max didn't pay it any attention. he was the leader of this adventure.
as we moved, i couldn't help but think of that beast pacing our rooftop.
max grabbed this rope of a wire hanging down in the corner and started his swinging climb. followed by hope and i. we made the first level easy. there was a real slant to it - we went up where we could. it all slanted toward another level. not too easy, not too hard, it was the next bit that proved difficult. the rooftop over another smallish apartment or room was as similar as it could be to a circus tent. max had already scrambled off, as high adventurers do, towards the goal. whatever that goal was. hope and i readied ourselves for this last part.
i flung my right leg over the top, but thought twice when i saw the give. it would be like climbing onto an air ballon or a parachute. too slack. and the climb so far had been hard on me anyway. i didn't want to go out doing something stupid. the boots i was wearing were clunking and i didn't feel safe. so i told hope, "hey, i think i'm going back down." "i'm going too," she said.
we walked back through the empty alley and took the side door into the bungalow. max met us going in, "it wasn't much too look at up there anyway..." he'd said after we explained ourselves.
we were inside where teddy and two others were enjoying conversations. i explained why i didn't climb, "what if i'd fallen - even 8 feet - and landed on an upturned umbrella?"
it was then that i saw people in our drive staring up, presumably at the buffalo, that i remembered the buffalo and began nagging our friends who'd stayed home from the climb to come out and see this. one reluctantly accepted my offer, her blond hair and bath robe trailing us. teddy bounded out.
we got to where the lookers had been. there must've been three or four of them. they left right away. the buffalo hadn't taken well to being photographed and bothered, i suppose. he reared up and back. took a run at the edge of the rooftop. this i saw through the trees. he jumped. he soared past the trees and kept it up. a hundred feet or more. i didn't think he could survive the jump. i thought it would crush him to dust. it didn't. he landed as majestically as he'd jumped. the ripple of his fur and muscle as his forepaws hit the dirt was divinity. then he turned.
facing us, he squared off. a snort escaped his face. dust traveled the air around him. head down he began to charge.
there was much screaming. i ran as hard as i could and it felt like someone kept moving our porch backwards. i glanced over for a moment and saw that teddy was herding our blond friend with nips back towards the porch. as she pushed him away and ran in. they were safe. the buffalo was still coming.
i stopped and walked a moment. i thought this would keep him back and he did slow down. perhaps i'd confused him although the look in his eyes was no confused look. he meant to kill me. i ran again, towards the porch, towards anything. a green two-door sat in our lot. i ran towards it. fumbled at the handle. the buffalo was closer. i dived in.
and i woke up.
when you're around here you'd notice that there's not a whole lot to do or that there's limitless possibilities, depends on how you shape that. so we were gonna climb to the roof. the bungalow was more like a shack. particle board holding it together in a makeshift southern-style. it had a big porch and a banging screen door.
as we passed, our porch on the left, i looked up through the trees. on top of the metal stood a mighty buffalo. snorting and pacing.
"how the hell did a buffalo get up there?" i asked hope.
"i don't know," she said.
max didn't pay it any attention. he was the leader of this adventure.
as we moved, i couldn't help but think of that beast pacing our rooftop.
max grabbed this rope of a wire hanging down in the corner and started his swinging climb. followed by hope and i. we made the first level easy. there was a real slant to it - we went up where we could. it all slanted toward another level. not too easy, not too hard, it was the next bit that proved difficult. the rooftop over another smallish apartment or room was as similar as it could be to a circus tent. max had already scrambled off, as high adventurers do, towards the goal. whatever that goal was. hope and i readied ourselves for this last part.
i flung my right leg over the top, but thought twice when i saw the give. it would be like climbing onto an air ballon or a parachute. too slack. and the climb so far had been hard on me anyway. i didn't want to go out doing something stupid. the boots i was wearing were clunking and i didn't feel safe. so i told hope, "hey, i think i'm going back down." "i'm going too," she said.
we walked back through the empty alley and took the side door into the bungalow. max met us going in, "it wasn't much too look at up there anyway..." he'd said after we explained ourselves.
we were inside where teddy and two others were enjoying conversations. i explained why i didn't climb, "what if i'd fallen - even 8 feet - and landed on an upturned umbrella?"
it was then that i saw people in our drive staring up, presumably at the buffalo, that i remembered the buffalo and began nagging our friends who'd stayed home from the climb to come out and see this. one reluctantly accepted my offer, her blond hair and bath robe trailing us. teddy bounded out.
we got to where the lookers had been. there must've been three or four of them. they left right away. the buffalo hadn't taken well to being photographed and bothered, i suppose. he reared up and back. took a run at the edge of the rooftop. this i saw through the trees. he jumped. he soared past the trees and kept it up. a hundred feet or more. i didn't think he could survive the jump. i thought it would crush him to dust. it didn't. he landed as majestically as he'd jumped. the ripple of his fur and muscle as his forepaws hit the dirt was divinity. then he turned.
facing us, he squared off. a snort escaped his face. dust traveled the air around him. head down he began to charge.
there was much screaming. i ran as hard as i could and it felt like someone kept moving our porch backwards. i glanced over for a moment and saw that teddy was herding our blond friend with nips back towards the porch. as she pushed him away and ran in. they were safe. the buffalo was still coming.
i stopped and walked a moment. i thought this would keep him back and he did slow down. perhaps i'd confused him although the look in his eyes was no confused look. he meant to kill me. i ran again, towards the porch, towards anything. a green two-door sat in our lot. i ran towards it. fumbled at the handle. the buffalo was closer. i dived in.
and i woke up.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
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