SINCERE MEDITATIONS - ANNE LAMOTT
(full text, see http://www.davidroche.com/lamott.htm)

A friend said mournfully the other day that he'd lived his life like the professor on Gilligan's Island. While he found time to fashion generators out of palm fronds, vaccines out of algae, he never got down to fixing that huge hole in the boat so he could go home. How many people actually do? Sometimes, if you are lucky and brave, you can watch someone who's met with serious illness or loss, do this kind of restoration, this work that you may suspect we are here on earth to do. Or if you've ever seen David Roche, the monologist and pastor of the Church of 80 Percent Sincerity, you may have already witnessed this process.
David and I met years ago through a mutual friend. The first time we spoke was on the phone and we talked about God for half an hour. He mentioned that he had some facial deformity, and I thought, Well, whatever, and we talked some more, and then he came to my church, and it turns out he has the most severe facial deformities I've ever seen. He was born with an extensive and benign tumor on the bottom left quadrant of his face, which surgeons tried to remove when he was very young. In the process, they removed his lower lip, and then gave him such extensive radiation that the lower part of his face stopped growing, and he was covered with plum-colored burns.
He is 55 now, with silvery hair and bright blue eyes.
Last week I saw him in performance at a local community center in benefit for the refugees in Kosovo. He was wearing a dress shirt in plum purple, which exemplifies the kind of tender and jaunty bravery with which I have come to associate him. He stepped out on stage before a hundred grown-ups and a dozen children, and stood smiling while people got a good look. Then he suggested we ask him, in a conversational toe and in unison, "David, what happened to your face?" When we did, he explained about the tumor, the surgery, and all those radiation burns.
He told of wanting to form a gang of the coolest disfigured people in the world, like the Phantom, the Beast from Beauty and the Beast, Freddie Krueger, and Michael Jackson. They'd go places as a group--bowling, perhaps, or to one of the make-over counters at the next Macy's White Flower Day Sale.
"People assume I had an awful childhood," he continued. "But I didn't. I was loved and esteemed by my parents. My face may be unique, but my experiences aren't. I believe they are universal."
Wouldn't you think that having that thing on his face totally messed with his adolescent sex life? Of course it did, he said. And he was a little fat, too, a chubby little disfigured guy. But these things were not nearly as detrimental as having been raised Catholic; having been, as he put it, an incense survivor.
Telling his stories through a crazy mouth, a jumble of teeth, only one lip and a too-large tongue, David's voice did not sound garbled but strangely like a brogue; like that of a Scottish person who just had a shot of Novocain.
"We with facial deformities are children of the dark" he said. "Our shadow is on the outside. And we can see in the dark: we can see you, we see you turn away, but one day we finally understand that you turn away not from our faces but from your own fears. From those things inside you that you think mark you as someone unlovable to your family, and society and even to God.
"All those years, I kept my bad stories in the dark, but not anymore. Now I am stepping out into the light. And this face has turned out to be an elaborately disguised gift from god."
He spoke of the hidden scary scarred parts inside us all, the soul disfigurement, the fear deep inside that we're unacceptable, and while he spoke, his hands moved fluidly in expressions that his face can't make. His hands are beautiful, fair, light as air, light as a ballet dancer's.
He told of his first game of spin-the-bottle, when the girl who was chosen to kiss him recoiled in horror, and he said to her, debonairly, "You know you want me." Then he admits sheepishly that he didn't actually say that for twenty years, but that in soul-time, it's never too late. He told of loving a teenage girl named Carol, of how it took months to ask her out, but that when he did, she accepted. They went to the movies and then afterwards sat on a couch on his front porch, and he kept trying to put his arm around her but couldn't quite, so they talked and talked and talked. He wanted to kiss her but was too shy to ask, he was afraid it was like asking her to kiss a monster, and finally she said, "I need to walk on home now," and he said, "Carol, I want to kiss you," and she said, "David? I thought you'd never ask."
That was a moment of true grace, and from this experience, he built a church inside of himself. There is no physical church but his own life: Both his performances and his work teaching people to tell their stories, their marvelous, screwed-up and often hilarious resurrection stories. Voilà: a church.
"We in the Church of 80 Percent Sincerity do not believe in miracles," he said. "But we do believe that you have to stay alert, because good things happen. When God opens the door, you've got to put your foot in it.
"Look, 80 percent sincerity is about as good as it's going to get. So is 80 percent compassion. 80 percent celibacy. So 20 percent of the time, you just get to be yourself."
God, it's such subversive material, so contrary to everything society leads us to believe--that if you look good, you'll be happy, and have it all together, and then you'll be successful and nothing will go wrong and you won't have to die, and the rot can't get in.
In the Church of 80 Percent Sincerity, you definitely don't have to look good, but you are supposed to meditate. Following David's instructions, you sit quietly with your eyes closed, and follow your breath in and out of your body, gently watching your mind. Your mantra should go like this: Why am I doing this? This is such a waste! I have so much to do! My butt itches... And if you stick to it, he promised, from time to time calmness and peace of mind will intrude. After some practice with this basic mediation, you will be able to graduate to Panic meditations, and then sex fantasy meditations. And meditations on what you will do when you win the Lotto.
When David insists you are fine exactly the way you are, you find yourself almost believing him. When he talks about unconditional love, he gives you a new lease on life, because the way he explains it, you may for the first time believe that even you could taste of this; because, as he explains it, in the Church of 80 Percent Sincerity, everyone has come to understand that unconditional love is a reality, but has a shelf life of about eight to 10 seconds. So instead of beating yourself up because you only feel it fleetingly, you savor those moments when it appears. "So we might say to our beloved, "Honey, I've been having these feelings of unconditional love for you for the last eight to 10 seconds." Or, "Darling? I'll love you til the very end of dinner."
The children, mostly sitting in the front rows, get him right away. Maybe they don't have so many other overlays yet, of armor and prejudice so Spirit can reach out and grab them faster.
Maybe it's partly that they're sitting so close, but whatever the reason, they gaze up at him like he's a rock star. "I look different to you now, right?" he asked them when he was done, and they nodded, especially the teenagers. To be in adolescence is, for most of us, to be facially deformed. He makes you want to build a fort with him under the table with blankets, because it looks like such fun when he does it. He builds a fort with blankets and then lets you lift up them up and peek in, at him and at you. You laugh with recognition, with relief that your baggage and flaws are not vile, unmentionable. It's like soul aerobics.
"I've been forced to find my inner beauty," he said in closing. "Doing that gave me a deep faith in myself. Eighty percent of the time. And that faith has been a window so I can see the beauty in you, too. The light in your eyes. Your warmth. So thank you."

four more years?

one more thing, before i go to bed. i am starting to think that george w. bush is going to win the upcoming election. i said months ago to wilcox that if kerry won, i'd run down ninth street in the nude, singing out 'Mazeltov!' but then i realized that there was an implied opposite: what would i want to do if george won? America might be an ugly, unhappy place right now, but what will it look like on November third? i can't believe how soon it is coming up now.

the saddest thing is that really, there is nothing i love about john kerry - not that there is anything i dislike, either - but the lack of any really horrible philosophical or personal or political flaws is so, so, so much better than the greed and foolishness and selfishness and cynicism our current President and his advisors have shown. lawrence and i were talking about it this morning, about why kerry picked edwards, litigator extraordinaire, as his running-mate, about the undecided-margin-decimating bounce in bush's poll numbers after this week's convention, about why kerry didn't respond sooner to the Swift Boat Veterans for Truth. anyway, it finally dawned on me - took a couple of days - that things don't look very good at all, and that for all that has been lost, there's a lot more yet that could be lost if george and the republicans can hold on to the white house for another four years.

if anyone wants to buy me presents:

http://www.engrish-store.com/drsut.html
http://www.engrish-store.com/beofpet.html
http://store1.yimg.com/I/yhst-57934113789065_1808_1312281
http://store1.yimg.com/I/yhst-57934113789065_1808_983989
http://store1.yimg.com/I/yhst-57934113789065_1808_600259 http://store1.yimg.com/I/yhst-57934113789065_1808_761776
http://store.shopodd.com/10455.html

I'm a rapper. Who knew? Figures I'd go off, and it would be about Scrabble.

VanessaIAB: Sittin around with laptop smorking the occasional celebratory cigarette
VanessaIAB: note - 'smorking' on purpose, not spelling error -
http://www.engrish-store.com/nosmortshir.html
Monkeyrobot: You know, I always have had a problem with people smorking around me.
VanessaIAB: heh. not.
Monkeyrobot: That's such a great shirt
VanessaIAB: but not doking
VanessaIAB: oops
VanessaIAB: dorking!
VanessaIAB: i engrished myself.
Monkeyrobot: sometimes I think it would be better if we all spoke engrish
VanessaIAB: judging from you spelling...
VanessaIAB: *your
VanessaIAB: (and my typing, no doubt)
Monkeyrobot: Ha
VanessaIAB: you can front but it don't change nuthin'
VanessaIAB: you're addled at scrabble
Monkeyrobot: Twoo twoo.
VanessaIAB: you write like da rabble
VanessaIAB: hee
Monkeyrobot: whoa there sister
VanessaIAB: rappa i am
Monkeyrobot: and I'll challenge you to scrabble any day
Monkeyrobot: I am masterful at scrabble
VanessaIAB: my ass
VanessaIAB: will not be the kicked one.
Monkeyrobot: hmmm. much like Sen. Zell, I think I shall challenge you to a duel
VanessaIAB: i'll challenge, and you score will be victim
VanessaIAB: haaaa
VanessaIAB: having too much fun
VanessaIAB: with the rappage.
VanessaIAB: i will be cruel- you can't spell - hell,
Monkeyrobot: maybe we can try engrish or hip hop scrabble
VanessaIAB: hahahaaaa
VanessaIAB: dude. totally.
Monkeyrobot: ex: Yo Mamma is a word
VanessaIAB: yo mamma is two words
Monkeyrobot: but not in jive scrabble
VanessaIAB: yo logic is fallible, i cop triple words scores
VanessaIAB: bam!
Monkeyrobot: well, I am more McCoy than Spock
VanessaIAB: ...
VanessaIAB: bring it, doc
Monkeyrobot: I can't even raise the solitary eyebrow
Monkeyrobot: must be cause I got a unibrow
VanessaIAB: whereas my rhymes is the fly rhymes with timely vowels
VanessaIAB: aint got no trouble with my eyebrows...
Monkeyrobot: damn girl. i can't ev'n keep up
VanessaIAB: while my conjugations are stabbin ya in yo heart
VanessaIAB: kids just say damn, girl, you smart...
VanessaIAB: an i'm out
VanessaIAB: missy ain't got shiznit on me.
Monkeyrobot: you know, my friends call me the whitest guy in the world
Monkeyrobot: ain't got no soul

From: Elle
To: Erik, Vanessa
Subject: Republicans
Date: Tue, 31 Aug 2004

During Ron Silver's speech at the Republican National Convention, he said (regarding 9/11) "We will never forgive." Anger is at the root of so much that is happening in the Republican Party. Watch these people closely: these are people who do not know forgiveness. They are not able to forgive, and yet they call themselves Christians.

Quote of the day:

"Oh, we're just pickin' the scabs of love..."

you
swell me with yawns of pleasure
slithers of pleasure
anchors of pleasure
unsettle staticky laziness in my nerves
raise my arms in shivers
compose me in blood-heavy waves
in shapes of snakewalks, shoreline erosion,
hula hips, banana curves,
the fluted clouds at the edge of a storm
the depth of those
implacable hour-hands
minute hands
second hands
a mill of time to grind
until i can be beneath your hands
or help up by them
or trapped by them
until what is called up
can be set by again

What's the first website you look at every day?

Okay, quick poll as intro for my new 'Comments' capabilities:

I figure maybe we'll all find something cool to look at. Also, if you have any really great ones, feel free to put those in, too.

LONDON, England (Reuters) -- An unexplained radio signal from deep space could -- just might be -- contact from an alien civilization, New Scientist magazine reported on Thursday.
The signal, coming from a point between the Pisces and Aries constellations, has been picked up three times by a telescope in Puerto Rico.
There are other explanations besides extraterrestrial contact that may explain the signal. New Scientist said the signal could be generated by a previously unknown astronomical phenomenon or even be a by-product from the telescope itself.
But the mystery beam has excited astronomers across the world.
"If they can see it four, five or six times it really begins to get exciting," Jocelyn Bell Burnell of the University of Bath in western England told the magazine.
It was broadcast on the main frequency at which the universe's most common element, hydrogen, absorbs and emits energy, and which astronomers say is the most likely means by which aliens would advertise their presence.
The potentially extraterrestrial signals were picked up through the SETI+home project, which uses programs running as screensavers on millions of personal computers worldwide to sift through the huge amount of data picked up by the telescope.

Yesssss!

if you want to help, download this: http://setiathome.ssl.berkeley.edu/download.html
The SETI@home program is a special kind of screensaver. Like other screensavers it starts up when you leave your computer unattended, and it shuts down as soon as you return to work. What it does in the interim is unique. While you are getting coffee, or having lunch or sleeping, your computer will be helping the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence by analyzing data specially captured by the world's largest radio telescope.

cat

i can almost feel you there, sleeping.
rooftops identify your windows,
and cars go right by.
let me go, dear,
and don't call me love anymore
and don't answer when i call
and never, ever, write again.
that is an order.
in the periphery
the world is flying by.
yet life offers you rubies and you will draw blood?
what is your name?
what is the color of the darkness i found you in?
and why won't you reach a hand up to us? you want it so-
and moreover, where is your other face-
the one that could see ahead,
and not only back into the black,
back to the moment after birth
when you were passed like a gift
from hand to hand to hand
until you had gone too far to be brought back?
you are wailing in the face of the world.

as a memory,
you can live in my walls
like an army of stinking roaches,
reduced to spidery legs, and whispering antennae
and the glossy brown secrets of insect wings.
you cause me to shiver from time to time-
i will only see you in the dark, but i remember you.
beneath my pallid skin,
sequined with rainbows and port wine stains,
the blood in me isn't red,
and it isn't yet black.
i am the font of the unarticulated horrors of the day.
i bleed fragile mirrors, and white light like stars
i bleed thin air, and nightmares
i bleed pure, frigid, hope.
oh, rubies,
your lessons aren't lost on me-
and i am lost more each time.

So my idea for a good protest is the following:

Get as many people as possible to wear Osama Bin Laden! tee-shirts, carrying Osama Bin Laden! signs and chanting Osama Bin Laden! to get together and stand outside of Madison Square Garden.

It really requires no explanation.

From CNN last night, Blitzer pressing White House spokesman Dan Bartlett for an explanation:

"BLITZER: All right. A lot of confusion today over what the president meant when he said that the war on terror is not winnable, you can't exactly win this war. What exactly did he mean by that?"
"BARTLETT: Anybody who has heard this president the last three years has demonstrated that he understands that we can win this war on terror ... When he said we can't win it, what he is saying is that this, it, Al Qaida is not a conventional enemy, not one that's going to sign up to a treaty and say we surrender..."
"WOODRUFF: But when he was asked that almost identical question on CNN just a few weeks ago, the same question, can the war on terror be won, he said absolutely it can be won."
"BARTLETT: That's what I'm saying."
"WOODRUFF: So which is it?"
"BARTLETT: Exactly..."

Limbaugh's program this afternoon from Des Moines, Iowa,

From the transcript:

"RUSH: ... But John Edwards is out there saying (paraphrased), "A-ha! Bush is now flip-flopping, and we, John Kerry and I, we can win this, and Bush is..." What did you mean by this?

THE PRESIDENT: Well, I appreciate you bringing that up. Listen, I should have made my point more clear about what I was saying, you know, what I meant. What I meant was that this is not a conventional war. It is a different kind of war. We're fighting people who have got a dark ideology who use terrorists, terrorism, as a tool. They're trying to shake our conscience. They're trying to shake our will, and so in the short run the strategy has got to be to find them where they lurk. I tell people all the time, "We will find them on the offense. We will bring them to justice on foreign lands so we don't have to face them here at home," and that's because you cannot negotiate with these people and in a conventional war there would be a peace treaty or there would be a moment where somebody would sit on the side and say we quit. That's not the kind of war we're in, and that's what I was saying. The kind of war we're in requires, you know, steadfast resolve, and I will continue to be resolved to bring them to justice, but as well as to spread liberty -- and this is one of the interesting points of the debate, Rush, is that, you know, I believe societies can be transformed because of liberty, and I believe that Iraq and Afghanistan will be free nations, and I believe that those free nations right there in the heart of the Middle East will begin to transform that region into a more hopeful place, which in itself will be a detriment to the ability to these terrorists to recruit -- and that's what I was saying. I probably needed to be a little more articulate."

and one more:

"I think [Kerry] going to Vietnam was more heroic than my flying fighter jets. He was in harm's way and I wasn't. On the other hand, I served my country."
-- President Bush, in a "Today" show interview.

A story, for P. Gallagher:
(thanks to Greg Schoenfeld here, without whom I wouldn't have remembered the Weirds,
and to Penny Marsh and my mom, who somehow came up the idea to entertain me when I was small)

On the other side of the planet, on a continent to which few have ever traveled, there lives a race of beings called the Weirds. At first glance it might seem that this is a pretty appropriate name for these funny-looking creatures, though of course that is what they call themselves, and 'Weirds,' means something quite different in their language than it does in ours. The Weirds spend their days in an ancient forest, very close to the shore of a vast sea where the water is as blue as butterfly wings, and the sky turns pink at sunset. As the sun melts down to the horizon, a strange ceremony unfolds every evening, just as it has always been done, since the Weirds remember having been Weird at all.When the shadows between the trees start to fade past yellow and into gold and the creatures high above go quiet, they make their way, singing, to the place where the water meets the sand. The Weirds emerge from the shadows on either side of the shoreline, emerging from the water, emerging from the forests by the thousands until they meet, forming a line that traces the edge of their land as far as any one of them can see. They pause as the sun sinks past the horizon, and then, like fingers interlacing, they pass each other, and the tall Weirds, with their very long, silky brown hair that covers them all up from head to toe, walk down, down, down into the sea, where they spend their nights. Passing them and climbing up onto the land as their day begins, the tiny Weirds make their way to their hunting lands. They have six legs each, and hard blue shells, and their hands have delicate long fingers, just like those of their tall counterparts. Embedded in their shells, they have large expressive eyes, too, so they can look up at the sky wherever they are.The Weirds have been living like this forever. They all speak the same language- they have hands and eyes, and they all need to sleep and eat, and they must spend half their time in the water. Despite what visitors have perceived as the very obvious differences between the tall and tiny creatures, the Weirds themselves are unable to see a meaningful distinction between themselves and their brethren. Once, a long time before, one of their ancestors had been at pains to point out the dissimilarities between them, but he tried so hard to persuade the others of their dissimilarities that he had died alone, drowned and mad with loneliness.The Weirds spend their days in an ancient forest very close the the shore of a vast sea, where the water is as blue as butterfly wings. When the sun peeks out over the sea, and begins to climb up into the sweet pink sky, they join together like interlocking fingers at the white line where tiny waves find the sand. They are all different, and they are all the same. They sing to each other. They come and go as they please, and only answer to the moon and the sun.

The Weirds have been living like this forever. They all speak the same language- they have hands and eyes, and they all need to sleep and eat, and they must spend half their time in the water. Despite what visitors have perceived as the very obvious differences between the tall and tiny creatures, the Weirds themselves are unable to see a meaningful distinction between themselves and their brethren. Once, a long time before, one of their ancestors had been at pains to point out the dissimilarities between them, but he tried so hard to persuade the others of their dissimilarities that he died alone, drowned and mad with loneliness.

The Weirds spend their days in an ancient forest very close the the shore of a vast sea, where the water is as blue as butterfly wings. When the sun peeks our over the sea, and begins to climb up into the sweet pink sky, they join together like interlocking fingers at the white line where tiny waves find the sand. They are all different, and they are all the same. They sing to each other. They come and go as they please, and only answer to the moon and the sun.

just look how easy that was, honey.
you just smiled, and i felt so safe
we don't like to think of these things as contests around here.

i want to find a good neighborhood for my heart.
you see how when i laugh, you laugh too?
i never want to hear that smirking sound again that says 'i know i've gone too far.'

i believe in things that no one else believes. i can still laugh like a moon dog.
i'm always wishing for something i've never seen. much like angels, peace, and jesus.
oh what intensities of faith! - i am still capable of blushing when i see the word 'love.'

here's peace: i could be walking to a bar in Red Hook - gems of broken glass winking beneath my feet
in the west, over Jersey, the sun sets in, staining the hills,
while off to my left, the pink moon levitates up to a violet sky.

i always wanted blue eyes. i always wanted better thorns.
i wish someone could wipe off the dust from all these souls, wipe their bones from the streets, from my heart.
i wish to be unafraid. i wish to be better than good.

GOODBYE SHADOW
GOODBYE PUPPY
GOODBYE, YOU GOOD, GOOD DOG.

kids, this is hysterical:

licensetokimjongill-
http://www.bloglines.com/blog/anders?subid=278316

thanks to enigmiac for sending.
also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NIGMI MY LOVE!

check this out:
http://www.candyboots.com/wwcards.html

Monkeyrobot: i just laughed out loud
VanessaIAB: yay
VanessaIAB: my mission in life!
VanessaIAB: to make the nice people laugh!
Monkeyrobot: aw, you think I'm nice.
VanessaIAB: i do. yes indeedliedoo.
VanessaIAB: (and cute!)
VanessaIAB: (handsome?)
VanessaIAB: (erm.)
Monkeyrobot: let's go with erm
VanessaIAB: ERM!
VanessaIAB: erm?
Monkeyrobot: Erm.
Monkeyrobot: As in, "you are so erm"
VanessaIAB: you're supposed to say 'thank you' when someone tells you that you're erm. were you raised by barnwolves?!
VanessaIAB: in a barn?!
Monkeyrobot: no
VanessaIAB: *snorty*
Monkeyrobot: barn coyotes
VanessaIAB: haaaaa
Monkeyrobot: the more cowardly dog like thing
Monkeyrobot: thank you btw
Monkeyrobot: I am touched that you think I'm erm
VanessaIAB: i made myself laugh that time.
Monkeyrobot: I think you're pretty erm too
VanessaIAB: you are very erm.
VanessaIAB: wee! i'm erm!
VanessaIAB: thank you!
Monkeyrobot: you obviously were not raised by barn wolves
VanessaIAB: no indeed i was not raised by barnwolves, silly.
VanessaIAB: i was raised by winos!
Monkeyrobot: Barn winos?
VanessaIAB: winos are known for their admirable social graces
VanessaIAB: actually they were housewine-0s
Monkeyrobot: but they can get grumpy
VanessaIAB: haaaaahahahahahahaaaaaa
VanessaIAB: get it?! get it!!! :P
Monkeyrobot: no. I don't.
Monkeyrobot: and what does that :P thing mean?
VanessaIAB: House Wine - os
Monkeyrobot: Oh
VanessaIAB: i'm funny.
Monkeyrobot: Hahahahahahaahah

From Kerry's testimony before the Senate Foreign Affairs folks:

"In our opinion, and from our experience, there is nothing in South Vietnam, nothing which could happen that realistically threatens the United States of America. And to attempt to justify the loss of one American life in Vietnam, Cambodia, or Laos by linking such loss to the preservation of freedom, which those misfits supposedly abuse, is to us the height of criminal hypocrisy, and it is that kind of hypocrisy which we feel has torn this country apart...."

This is the kind of person who ought to be in charge. This is a man who sees and thinks and feels in relation to people who are not him. Seeing as the idea of electing a President is that he should become the representative of the people, I'm (duh) voting for Kerry.

if you're feeling vindictive, check this out:
http://www.salon.com/tech/col/mcgreevy/2004/08/27/bush_speech//index.html

if not, see below...

This is awesome...


LOW CONCEPT: Dubious and far-fetched ideas.
Manifesto, A press release from PRKA.
By George Saunders
Posted Thursday, Aug. 26, 2004, at 12:59 PM PT

Last Thursday, my organization, People Reluctant To Kill for an Abstraction, orchestrated an overwhelming show of force around the globe.
At precisely 9 in the morning, working with focus and stealth, our entire membership succeeded in simultaneously beheading no one. At 10, Phase II began, during which our entire membership did not force a single man to suck another man's penis. Also, none of us blew himself/herself up in a crowded public place. No civilians were literally turned inside out via our powerful explosives. In addition, at 11, in Phase III, zero (0) planes were flown into buildings.
During Phase IV, just after lunch, we were able to avoid bulldozing a single home. Furthermore, we set, on roads in every city, in every nation in the world, a total of zero (0) roadside bombs which, not being there, did not subsequently explode, killing/maiming a total of nobody. No bombs were dropped, during the lazy afternoon hours, on crowded civilian neighborhoods, from which, it was observed, no post-bomb momentary silences were then heard. These silences were, in all cases, followed by no unimaginable, grief-stricken bellows of rage, and/or frantic imprecations to a deity. No sleeping baby was awakened from an afternoon nap by the sudden collapse and/or bursting into flame of his/her domicile during Phase IV.

In the late afternoon (Phase V), our membership focused on using zero (0) trained dogs to bite/terrorize naked prisoners. In addition, no stun guns, rubber batons, rubber bullets, tear gas, or bullets were used, by our membership, on any individual, anywhere in the world. No one was forced to don a hood. No teeth were pulled in darkened rooms. No drills were used on human flesh, nor were whips or flames. No one was reduced to hysterical tears via a series of blows to the head or body, by us. Our membership, while casting no racial or ethnic aspersions, skillfully continued not to rape, gang-rape, or sexually assault a single person. On the contrary, during this late-afternoon phase, many of our membership flirted happily and even consoled, in a nonsexual way, individuals to whom they were attracted, putting aside their sexual feelings out of a sudden welling of empathy.
As night fell, our membership harbored no secret feelings of rage or, if they did, meditated, or discussed these feelings with a friend until such time as the feelings abated, or were understood to be symptomatic of some deeper sadness.
It should be noted that, in addition to the above-listed and planned activities completed by our members, a number of unplanned activities were completed by part-time members, or even nonmembers.
In London, a bitter homophobic grandfather whose grocery bag broke open gave a loaf of very nice bread to a balding gay man who stopped to help him. A stooped toothless woman in Tokyo pounded her head with her hands, tired beyond belief of her lifelong feelings of anger and negativity, and silently prayed that her heart would somehow be opened before it was too late. In Syracuse, New York, holding the broken body of his kitten, a man felt a sudden kinship for all small things.
Even declared nonmembers, it would appear, responded to our efforts. In Chitral, Pakistan, for example, a recent al-Qaida recruit remembered the way an elderly American tourist once made an encouraging remark about his English, and how, as she made the remark, she touched his arm, like a mother. In Gaza, an Israeli soldier and a young Palestinian, just before averting their eyes and muttering insults in their respective languages, exchanged a brief look of mutual shame.
Who are we? A word about our membership.
Since the world began, we have gone about our work quietly, resisting the urge to generalize, valuing the individual over the group, the actual over the conceptual, the inherent sweetness of the present moment over the theoretically peaceful future to be obtained via murder. Many of us have trouble sleeping and lie awake at night, worrying about something catastrophic befalling someone we love. We rise in the morning with no plans to convert anyone via beating, humiliation, or invasion. To tell the truth, we are tired. We work. We would just like some peace and quiet. When wrong, we think about it awhile, then apologize. We stand under awnings during urban thunderstorms, moved to thoughtfulness by the troubled, umbrella-tinged faces rushing by. In moments of crisis, we pat one another awkwardly on the back, mumbling shy truisms. Rushing to an appointment, remembering a friend who has passed away, our eyes well with tears and we think: Well, my God, he could be a pain, but still I'm lucky to have known him.
This is PRKA. To those who would oppose us, I would simply say: We are many. We are worldwide. We, in fact, outnumber you. Though you are louder, though you create a momentary ripple on the water of life, we will endure, and prevail.
Join us.
Resistance is futile.
George Saunders is the author of CivilWarLand in Bad Decline and Pastoralia.

http://slate.msn.com/id/2105672/

AN END TO ONLINE DATING


So I think I'm giving up this particular little experiment. I'm all out of Salon Credits and the server's still pitching cretins at me like they were two for one. Who do you have to fuck to get some respect around here? LOL.

And here I thought it was better than meeting fellas at hip brooklyn bars again? Ooof - Cuz that was working out so well. Ok. Yeah, gonna cut my losses and depart with a couple of new friends and dignity still intact.

Peace, creeps!

V


simon d'evian:
DOOM
lithe and wicked says:
why doomy, my love?
simon d'evian says:
because I was born alone, and I'll die alone, and I'll be alone throughout the middle.
lithe and wicked says:
hm. wow.

enigmiac: how much of your activity is not related in one way or another to women?
chuckles: hmmm... these days, I'm not doing much of anything
chuckles: but when i'm not down on the woman situation, a lot of my energy is directed in that direction
chuckles: you?
enigmiac: almost all of it in one way shape or form or another
enigmiac: I'd go so far as to say 90% +
enigmiac: even when I'm in a relationship, I still focus most of my energies on the woman I'm with
chuckles: well, that's alwaysa a good thing, I think
enigmiac: I always thought so
chuckles: unless the particular woman is not the sort who enjoy attention
enigmiac: oh, you mean the kind of woman I habitually fall for? yeah, that's true
enigmiac: KILL ME
chuckles: egads
chuckles: *bang!

wow. viva hairboy.

http://cnn.netscape.cnn.com/news/story.jsp?floc=FF-RTO-PLS&idq=/ff/story/0002/20040817/2204592761.htm&photoid=20040818SHA08D

Pics from the pityparty, courtesy of Tory

http://www.wouldificould.com/images/weekend/

Duuuuuuude.


European team to observe US election
09.08.2004 - 09:02 CET By Lisbeth Kirk
The Organisation for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) will monitor the US election on 2 November. It will be the first time such a team has been present for a US presidential election.Thirteen Democratic members of the House of Representatives had requested UN monitors for this year's presidential elections in an effort to avoid possible voting irregularities that plagued the 2000 election, the closest in history.
In a letter to the 13 Democrats, Assistant Secretary of State Paul Kelly did not mention their request for UN observers but said the United States had already invited the OSCE's Office for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights (ODIHR) to observe the 2004 presidential elections.The OSCE, based in Vienna, Austria, has sent more than 10,000 personnel to monitor more than 150 elections and referenda in more than 30 countries during the past decade, spokeswoman Urdur Gunnarsdottir told CNN.She also said the observer team would go to the US in September to plan how to monitor the election, including how many observers to send and where to deploy them.
The OSCE is the largest regional security organisation in the world with 55 participating States from Europe, Central Asia and North America.OSCE members, including the United States, agreed in 1990 in Copenhagen to allow fellow members to observe elections in one another's countries.In November 2002, the organisation sent 10 observers on a week-long mission to monitor the US midterm elections and also sent observers to monitor the California election last year.

http://www.euobserver.com/?sid=9&aid=17057

3M Corporation is building the "World's Largest Pink Ribbon" in Times Square for breast cancer awareness month in October. For every person who clicks on this link and signs up, Post-It will donate $1 to breast cancer research and place a Post-It in their name on the billboard. Please sign up and pass along!

http://www.3m.com/us/office/postit/research/largest_pink_ribbon.jhtml

interesting...
march 9, 1978 12am
PISCES
Sagittarius Rising:
If your Rising Sign is in Sagittarius, happy is how people see you. Doesn't matter if you're in a foul mood, you look for all the world to be the consummate optimist, the open, friendly adventurer typified by Sagittarius. On the other hand, Sagittarians are often restless and contentious; they bore easily and sometimes pick fights for the fun of it. You give an impression of such indifference that others may say some crazy, unexpected or even hurtful things to you, expecting their comments to roll right off your back! You can't help it -- you're just exuding that characteristic Archer cool.
Your Moon is in Pisces
Tenderhearted and sympathetic to an unusual degree, you have an understanding of other people's feelings and needs which borders on being telepathic. You are extremely compassionate and cannot bear to see any fellow creature - be it human or animal -suffer. Because of your kindness and nonjudgmental attitude, people in pain or confusion are drawn to you for help, which you readily give. Sometimes your softheartedness is taken advantage of.
You are a gentle, poetic soul and have a great love and affinity for music. Because many of your feelings are nebulous and vague and you cannot easily verbalize how you experience life, music seems a natural language for you. You are also tremendously romantic and are often "in love with love".

just got a phone call from Jay Starr, whom i ran into on the street outside Mercury Lounge last night. it seems he is back in town from San Francisco and he's getting the band back together.

best! news! ever!

this means that every Tuesday yours truly will be back onstage, singing my heart out at Bailey's Corner on 85th and York Ave.

let's see if i can get my boys to cover some Be Good Tanyas tunes in addition to the old repertoire. hm... Ship on the Sea... we can probably do some Iron and Wine, too... 'Such great heights,'
I bet Jane Siberry's 'Calling all Angels,' would be lovely with a banjo and a violin.


weeeeeeee!

i feel i have learned something
i am not sure i wanted to know-
as ineffable as the smell of sleep,
as whispery as the white fuzz shaved from a thousand peaches,
though not as sweet
as these.
that dark head against the pillow-
a fan of light spreading from the cracks in my shutters-
the breadlike smell of beer-
the silence in my chest, and trailing from my feet-
as i walk back and forth, afraid to wake you-
my friend.
hands and faces, eyes,
have a look of tenderness this morning,
surrounded by white,
closed up from the world like the raveling ends of a long, soft fog
creeping back
did you hold me so tenderly once?

here is what i know:
i don't know you.

excluding friday into saturday afternoon, which definitely did not suck in the slightest, it wasn't exactly a swell rest-of-the-weekend.

wilcox's phone call and subsequent visit, inspiring an exciting mini-anxiety attack, and then the disaster of my little get-together, which i just didn't really enjoy very much at all. note to self - never throw another party. my (dare i say it? ha!) 'date' ignored me completely, to the extent of actually arriving before i did, playing cards with three women, getting plastered, and sitting with his back to me the whole time in front of ten of my closest friends.
oh, humility, oh.
won't be putting that on my salon personals profile...

except for my massage (hope you sold that futon, darling wilcox...) and the long, sunny nap that followed, it was the pits. as great as people can be, i wish sometimes that they came with descriptive labelling much like those that are required for everything from water to cigarettes. this might be called my wishful-thinking version of mcpartland's 'undateable list,' a concept which is amusing in theory, not to mention useful, but tastes vindictive to me when i mull it over for too long. there ought to be some way to avoid pointless pain, just like you'd avoid an unnecessary allergic reaction to peanuts.

so here's my point: how about if you knew in advance that you were dealing with 'tremendously selfish and needy. overly sociable and shallow.' or for me: 'depressive and fragile, very high expectations.' others i could pinpoint would include 'abandonment issues. highly defensive. alcoholic.' 'cannot be alone. trusts no one. pathologically cynical.' 'sexually conflicted, unable to set own agenda.' 'profound center-of-universe misconception, very secretive.'

then you could eat the occasional unhealthy snack, or even form the unsalutory habit with some foreknowledge of what you were getting into, rather than being gobsmacked to discover after some initial getting-to-know-you period that the talk and the walk are two different (pardon the choice of words here, my loves) beasts. for instance, if you knew that i am inclined to be depressive and emotionally fragile and excessively idealistic and entirely too sensual, then you would take with a grain of salt my very dark outlook, my sense of humor, my endless talk of sex, the constant tug of war between wonder and defeat. or, if i knew that so-and-so was a two-timing addictive personality with fidelity issues (note double-emphasis), i would be making an informed choice about trying to feed and water a relationship inspired by his boyish good looks, charming habit of talking to inanimate objects, beautiful red hair, incredible sweetness and agile mind. not anyone in particular here, just an example. (um, not.)

this is so much more practical than the SATs or demented food labels (e.g., water: zero calories. duh.) this is civilization of the future. i'm not suggesting that we should rag on people for being assholes, though by all means, have at... all i'm saying is that we all have faults, and i for one would like to make mine available in trade for being able to avoid feebs, weiners, alcoholics, assholes and scorpios. (note the double-emphasis. heh...)

we're all fallible, i just wish... ugh. i dunno.



DB says:
wow descriptive labels what a great idea!
DB says:
should include the recommended serving size, too

supercallowfragilekisses says:
hewwo
lithe and wicked says:
hi bunny
supercallowfragilekisses says:
what are you up to?
lithe and wicked says:
eating wunch
lithe and wicked says:
and bwooding
supercallowfragilekisses says:
I tried to do that before
lithe and wicked says:
hahahahaaaaa
supercallowfragilekisses says:
over what are you brooding?
supercallowfragilekisses says:
...so, I figure if I can just stop myself from doing crazy things, I should be fine
lithe and wicked says:
such as?
supercallowfragilekisses says:
obsessions, procrastinations
supercallowfragilekisses says:
I don't know
supercallowfragilekisses says:
it's hard to think of them when they're not happening atm
lithe and wicked says:
obsessions
lithe and wicked says:
fixations
lithe and wicked says:
futures-in-present
lithe and wicked says:
(unlikely ones)
lithe and wicked says:
unrealistic expectations
lithe and wicked says:
dreams of morality
supercallowfragilekisses says:
haha
supercallowfragilekisses says:
wishes for morality
supercallowfragilekisses says:
personally
lithe and wicked says:
aspirations of transcendence-
lithe and wicked says:
wishing for pure, holy relief
lithe and wicked says:
from the everlasting (?!) Trinity of Bullshit
lithe and wicked says:
1. Bullshit work
lithe and wicked says:
2. Bullshit people
lithe and wicked says:
3. This bullshit brain of mine

be quiet

i never remember not to say,
never to show,
i have to be trained again.

in those hours when hands come together
when sleep's breathing matches the
oscillations of the fan,
i have dreams to show me something finer than
the trapping heat beneath the streets and glowing screens.
the reining-in of what the heart demands
in many faces, familiar as my hands.
and in me.
there must be something better
than this scraped feeling.

losing much and gaining nothing,
learning bitter things again.
as medicines may cause me to shake, leafwise,
likewise these lessons bring me no relief-
but only substitute one kind of sickness for another.
so, my dreams.
some sense of flight
ease from the problems of gravity
things which are not, but should be.

screen names, band names, things that sound fine together

Queen Mab
Something About Monkeys
The Buttery Mexican
La Imperatrice Del Gelato
Serenissima
The Influence of Beavers
The Meatpacking Incident

oh for heaven's sake.

Kare: you rock!
Rabbi: no...YOU rock!!!
Rabbi: how can i rock if you're rocking??
Kare: lol
Rabbi: :-)
Rabbi: we can't rock at the same time!
Kare: i am not familiar with these rules...
Rabbi: we'll have none that
Kare: are there any other guidelines i need to follow?
Rabbi: rockin' is a solitary thing
Kare: can we take turns
Rabbi: yes...
Rabbi: i will rock on the odd hours of the day....you rock on the even
Rabbi: so ...it's almost 2....get
Rabbi: ready
Rabbi: to
Rabbi: ROCK
Kare: so today's your day
Rabbi: no!!
Rabbi: we alternate EVERY HOUR!!
Rabbi: of EVERY DAY!!
Kare: whoa
Rabbi: sheesh!!
Kare: that's a bit complicated
Rabbi: do i need to send you the rockin' manual??
Rabbi: maybe so
Kare: yes i need the rockin' show directory
Rabbi: lol
Rabbi: that'd be great
Kare: it should be a complimentary piece to iaw
Rabbi: yes.
Kare: like the exhibit manual
Rabbi: and we should have breakouts
Rabbi: to learn how to do it better
Kare: only for the cool people
Rabbi: yes
Kare: who want to learn or know how to rock
Rabbi: yes
Rabbi: it's a complex process
Rabbi: so....
Kare: of course
Rabbi: we're one down, one to go on the fandangling
Kare: we make it look easy
Rabbi: fandangling..i mean
Rabbi: yes we do
Kare: but it's really not
Rabbi: rock is 2nd nature
Kare: you either have it or you don't
Rabbi: you can't "teach" rock
Rabbi: right
Kare: see, we're even on the same wavelength
Rabbi: yes we are....
Rabbi: sweet
Rabbi: so....we're 1-for-2 on "Operation Convince Sponsor not to do what they Originally Contracted to Do"
Rabbi: you dreading that call??
Rabbi: or are you READY TO ROCK!!?!!?
Kare: yeah if she ever gets back to me
Rabbi: wow....that's not Rock
Rabbi: that's extremely Un-rock
Kare: yeah, but i'll cut her some slack
Kare: she is soooo nice
Rabbi: ok...
Rabbi: that's up to you...(Code B104c - Rock Manual)

also, i just sent out an email - thankfully to a very nice woman who thought it was hysterical - which said "re: i only need thirty minutes of your time... Ho about on Monday?"

ugh

"dreamed that i woke up and got dressed, took the F train and ended up in some lost corner of Brooklyn where the subway lines ended. i was so sleepy in my dream, and trying to get to work, but lugging a heavy briefcase and totally unable to find the right platform in what seemed like a huge, abandoned train station. something very strange was going on - people everywhere in tie-dyed tee-shirts singing Elton John songs (doom!) and I was unable to escape because all of the escalators had rebelled and jumped their tracks. they were standing straight up in the air, waving back and forth in unison like the sandworms at the end of Dune. hm."



also, from televisionwithoutpity.com, the people at America's Next Top Model just never disappoint...

Back at the I'm-All-Thatotel, Shannon continues on that maybe it's not all bad that Mother Superior jumped the gun, adding in a confessional, "I do feel comfortable with Elyse and Adrianne. They're fun. And now at least I can be a more outgoing in a way...I don't have to worry about being quiet all the time." During this confessional -- in fact, right on the word "outgoing" -- we're treated to a shot of Shannon sitting on her bed, rocking a wonk-ass pair of Groucho Marx sunglasses and dancing like it's for sale and the rent can be paid in Dork Bucks. I mean, seriously. Some people must really want to stay virgins.

this is the funniest thing i have seen in so long
http://atomfilms.shockwave.com/contentPlay/shockwave.jsp?id=this_land&preplay=1&ratingBar=off

hooboy.

"May a pink unicorn poop a rainbow on your day!!"

i am so unhappy about recent events with NJ governor jim mcgreevy and the annullment of the same-sex unions in san francisco. is it that people are being even crueller, suddenly, now that the issue of non-hetero sexual preferences has emerged from the national subconscious into a recognized debate, and is therefore that much more 'real' to the people most afraid of the ramifications of accepting gay relationships as equally valid? mcgreevy cheated on his wife. we don't know what rules or inner logic defined their marriage, and there is no word of separation or divorce. in fact, she was smiling beside him as he came out as a 'gay American.' even that ghoul of human misery, diane sawyer, who was so awful to judy steinberg dean a few months ago for having the temerity to have a whole life of her own, recognized that.
so mcgreevy's ex-lover is expected to file a sexual harassment suit today... and the man gives up his political career and outs himself on national television? (he should have called President Bill for some pointers!) seriously, though, and i know it's purely hypothetical: what would have been different about that press conference if mcgreevy's lover had been a woman? would he have resigned? it seems as though rather than sexually harassing golan cipel, mcgreevy actually went out of his way and placed himself at considerable poitical risk to promote this fellow to offices for which he was not qualified. If that is harassment, it's harassment of an alarmingly sinister and subtle variety. since we're probably never going to know about went on between these two men, any more that we have any right to understand the mcgreevy marriage, what i don't understand is- why resign? it looks like mcgreevy was being blackmailed- or threatened with blackmail. so why go all president bartlett on the state of NJ, which just signed into law a provision for same-sex civil unions. why not come out wearing his person-face and say 'hi folks. guess what? i'm gay. my wife and i have an understanding, and no one here is breaking the law. unfortunately, a while back i had a relationship with a man who feels that i have not been fair in my treatment of him as a member of my administration. he seems to be leaning towards filing a suit against me, and i felt that in light of this unpleasant circumstance, it was only fair to inform you of what is otherwise a private matter between myself and my wife. thanks.' i realize that this is a bold move, but the man has the office - and has not even yet been accused of a crime or misconduct. why shouldn't he show his hand? NJ has been behind him so far - what was he afraid of? that the citizenry of one of the most liberal states in the country wasn't going to be able to take the news that he was gay and married? if anyone's taking offense at anything here, then the big questions coming up ought to be over his nomination of an unqualified individual to a post as drop-dead critical to the safety of millions as New Jersey's homeland security director. Now there's a cause for resignation.
i'm sure more revelations are on the way on this situation, but i'm depressed that whatever has been going on with jim mcgreevey behind closed doors has led to this: okay, you got me. i'm gay and i resign. maybe that's why the added blow of having all the san francisco marriages revoked yesterday stings particularly. let's face it, civil unions do not confer any particularly fantabulous benefits in practical terms. if that was the real issue at hand, i don't think the people on the other side of the debate would be screaming for blood the way they have been since this whole sideshow began when gavin newsom started issuing marriage licences - a politically risky and legally shaky move, for sure. But deep down, the emotional meat of the issue is still social acceptance of homosexuality. If the state to which you pay your taxes, and in which you live your life, in which you work and shop and drive and love and even raise your family does not recognize your partnership, you are forever outside of some invisible line. This is not to say that all- or even most- homosexuals want to be married, but that our refusal to accept that this is not a federal issue is illuminating a fudamental new truth about America as a country: that life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness are fine by us, as long as we all have the same idea about what those things mean. put another way, if the federal government does not care if i make a right on red in jim mcgreevy's state or not in pataki's, but it does care if my partner and i can be married there and yet not here, we are about to sacrifice something far more important than the creaky old 'institution' of marriage. it seems to me that what we are really giving up on is the fundamental truth that all people are created equal - and different, and that as long as we're not hurting anyone, we should be allowed to get on with our lives as we see fit, living in honest homes in communities of like-minded people whose individual votes and opinions really do matter - because it is us, and not the federal government, who decides what side of the line we are on.
i can't imagine how painful it must be as a newly married couple -three thousand, nine hundred and ninety-five couples- to have that status taken away by supreme court decree, especially when across the country this mcgreevy story is breaking and calling our definition of marriage into question more sharply than ever before. i don't know if newsom knew what fresh hell he was calling down on those poor couples when he started issuing licences - in retrospect it seems cruel to have given them such a gift, knowing it could so easily be taken away. (on the other hand, i suspect that one of the episodes of recent history i will remember all my life is that time when same-sex couples in san francisco were lining up to be married, on streets filled with their fellow citizens, cheering them on. it's probably never a bad time to be in love, but between Feb. 12 and March 11 of 2004, in san francisco and across the country, it must have been extraordinary.)
jim mcgreevy and mike newsom both seem to have the wrong idea about where to take their steps in the brave and terrible and frighteningly fucked-up world we've got going, but i have to say that i admire newsom's passion and rashness much more than i do mcgreevy's cowardy weeble-wobbling and irresponsibility, even if he did just out himself on national TV. if we don't speak up for what we believe in, even if we have to fail a dozen times, or get yelled at by our bosses, or constituents or whatever, or even lose the goddamned election, we are selling ourselves so cheaply we might deserve whatever we get.

-----Original Message-----
From: Morgan
Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 12:57 PM
To: Vanessa Soto
Subject: What are you up to tonight?
Yea...this was all very sad. As for NJ's gov. I feel like there's a lot of this story we'll never know or understand ...and it's sad that it will inevitable be remembered thanks to conservative spin that "He's GAY ...so he can't be gov" The San Francisco debacle is, however, more upsetting to me. I can't even imagine how hurt these couples must be. The right seems to becoming more and more enraged and less and less logical. They seem to have a one-phrase argument for everything and don't bother to actually think about what they are saying. Gays can't marry because it will ruin the sanctity of marriage...(what about adultery and divorce?) I'm starting to realize that what they want is not to preserve and defend their lifestyle, but rather to attack and punish those who've chosen a different lifestyle. They are not Pro-Life they are Anti-Choice (if they were Pro-Life they would all adopt 3 children every year and be VERY opposed to the death penalty.)
I thought Republicans believed in smaller government? Everyone's going crazy though, so I suppose I shouldn't be so confused.

I can meet up for a drink tonight if you'd like, or actually anytime this weekend.

.m

From: Jon Haddorff
Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 11:59 AM
To: Vanessa
Subject: RE: had to get off brain... not terribly cogent

Thanks for the brilliant rant. I appreciate having you on "our" side of the debate and I agree--why resign? But there are also federal investigations into his campaign financing which may mean "I'm gay" is just a smokescreen for the real reason he resigned, which is also kinda depressing. But we live on and can be grateful that things are changing...a few years ago he might not have felt so free to announce his sexuality on national TV and the more that come out publicly, the less stigmatized we become.

xoxo--J

From: Adam
Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 3:33 PM
To: Vanessa
Subject: Re: had to get off brain... not terribly cogent

dearest vanessa,

thought this was an opportune moment to tell you that your beautiful mind is even more attractive to me than your beautiful...
well said, sister.

yours,
adam

From: Lawrence

Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 2:36 PM

To: Vanessa Soto; Karie Gilson; Jon Haddorff; John Hamilton; gpesoa@mindspring.com; CBotana2@aol.com; Adam W. Griffith; Soul Light

Subject: RE: had to get off brain... not terribly cogent

Let's get a few things "straight" here:

McGreevey may have *said* he resigned over his affair with Golan Cipel, but the real reason is going to "come out". For one, EVERYONE in state government knew he had an affair with Cipel (in fact, Vanessa, I think I even told you about it at some point). Everyone in the press knew, which is why there were so many detailed articles about Cipel's career at the ready. When Cipel was named the head of state security, there was an outcry because everyone knew his relationship with the governor and how unqualified he was (Collette Avital, the Israeli Counsel General and Cipel's former boss -- and by no means a pro-Republican conservative -- questioned Cipel's qualifications and how much he padded his resume). Of course, no one would actually say what the situation was really about, but for a good example of how to read between the lines, see this article written two years ago: http://www.cpanj.com/capitalreportpages/mcgreeveywatch/august2002/MCGREEVEY.

The gov's orientation was pretty much established when he ran the first time in '97. No one -- not even the Republicans -- brought it up because, let's face it: if you were to have every gay elected official in the state resign, the Garden State would lose half its leadership.

The real reason had more to do with the series of indictments surrounding the administration. Specifically, when Charlie Kushner was arrested over a month ago (for paying a prostitute to sleep with his sister's husband and video tape it so he wouldn't talk to the Feds about Charlie's donations to McGreevey), the heat was turning up. Then, all of a sudden, two weeks ago, Charlie's ankle bracelet came off. Guess how? How 'bout co-operation so Charlie wouldn't do as much time as he would've.

Then there was the "Machiavelli Affair". David D'Amiano was McGreevey's school friend. D'Amiano was involved in a scheme whereby contributions were taken in exchange for millions in state farm aid (see article here: http://www.politicsnj.com/kornacki070704_indict.htm).

A couple of years ago, Bergen County's former Sheriff, Joe Ciccone, announced that he was being both prosecuted and persecuted because of his sexuality. Fact is, Ciccone was so dreadfully corrupt that no one could no longer turn a blind eye. What McGreevey did yesterday was something out of Ciccone's playbook. Thankfully, the law looks past a person's private situation and looks at their public actions. Ciccone was convicted and so should McGreevey.

McGreevey was a ruthless, power-hungry thief. His sexual orientation had nothing to do with it. I'm quite frankly disappointed that everyone has fallen for his false martydom, especially you, Vanessa, because you're exceptionally bright.

The gay community should be outraged that this criminal dare use his orientation as a sheild for the banditry he committed. When he ran for governor -- or shortly after he took office -- he had ample opportunity to come out. He could have done so much good. Instead, he robbed the state, threatened the environment with the "fast track" of development permits (a payoff to the large developers in exchange for a joke of an environmental policy which robbed Highlands property owners), shook the tax base with ridiculous amounts of spending paid for in increased taxes, and embarrassed the state with some of the most dreadful appointments around. It's only when his actions caught up to him that he through one last Hail Mary pass hoping to save his tarnished reputation. Now he wants to be a martyr. Don't let him get away with it.

&^*# Jim McGreevey and all he stood for. The sooner he and his criminal ilk leave Trenton, the better.

From: Vanessa Soto Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 4:04 PMTo: 'Lawrence; Karie; Jon; John; gpesoa; CBotana; Adam; Soul Light; Scott

Subject: RE: cogenter

hey lawrence,

thanks for taking the time to write this- and for the compliment. i was careful to mention neither 'republicans,' nor 'democrats' nor even to hint at the liberal/conservative debate in my article.

i guess my thesis was something less definitive- some intangible distinction in how we mean our actions, how sometimes legality and immorality are more like each other than we would hope for. more and more, what i see is a strain of malignant capitalism - making over a nation of ornery individuals into an easily led, easily fed, easily manipulated, and unfortunately, an easily slaughtered flock.
this has less to do with any party in particular, than with the sort of cynicism that turns the vital things that motivate real people into loathsome political doubletalk. this is the sort of cynicism that kills, i think.

the only antidote, or treatment, or whatever, is for people to stop thinking this way - stop following the path of practicality and cool pragmatism and instead to assert the human right -forget the Constitution here, for a minute- to say that some things, like love and life and death, are far too important to be used as forensic placeholders for warring interests. i think the only way that's going to happen is if we reach right down to where the issues are hurting us, or making us angry, and try to say why it is we feel that way, rather that accepting that this is the state of the world.

love, as ever,
v

From: Adam

Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 5:27 PM

To: Vanessa; Lawrence; Karie; Jon; John; gpesoa; CBotana; Soul Light; Scott

dear lawrence,

sorry we haven't had the pleasure. i want to make sure that i'm understanding your argument properly.

you're saying that it's marginally less offensive to the public of new jersey to admit that you're queer than it is to admit to being a criminal? and further that this is an acceptable state of affairs?

respectfully,
adam w. griffith

"Life is short
Really short!
So we must gladden the hearts of those who travel with us.
Oh, be swift to love.
Because in both happiness and in sorrow,
life is precious in itself and;
Perhaps, we need to ask nothing more of it than this:
Be what we can be where we are with what we have.
Experience deeply all that we can experience,
And love desperately all that we can love."

-unknown
(thanks J. Hamilton for sending)

onomatopoem


turning my face up to the showerhead
setting the alarm, again, and getting back into bed
turning one last page
no one makes demands,
(except for my mother)
the remote control might never leave my hand
i can eat a shrimp enchilada every day
no one to hear about these dreams
except for sal and gustavo
my private ceremonies
my excellent jokes
the long deep breaths
and the red candle burning on the mantle
and the light of my laptop
i can slip in and out of the world at will
if the phone rings, will i answer?
if you knock at my window,
will i come and let you in?
and if you say
i'll be there
will
i be there?
you sew me up for moments at a time
your face
you fascinate me for a week
for months you think
i am yours
i wish you were right

i don't remember what i was watching, though i feel it must have been a documentary- what is that show on National Geographic with the funny little British fellow who puts himself through all kinds of torments? the hottest, coldest, wettest, driest places in the world... at any rate, i think it was he, who was on some tiny island inhabited almost entirely by tiny birds which flocked all day long in the skies over this little bit of rock off in the grim horse lattitudes of some remote sea. one of the few people who lived there was regarded as something of an eccentric even by his fellow islanders. he would wake up every morning and climb a steep hill holding a long pole with a net at the one end and a sack tied at his waist, and he would spend all day swiping teeny uccellini out of the air. when his sack was full, he'd go home and pour their soft little carcasses out onto his table, each little head rolling on a neck he had snapped between two fingers, and then he would pluck their feathers, bird by bird, and grill the creatures on his fire. this was his only sport, his only work, his only food, other than the plants that grew wild on the island. he didn't know how old he was, nor who his parents had been. the only things he knew were the net and the flocks, the necks, the feathers and the fire. sleeping, waking, the sea, sky, rocks, consumption and elimination. wind. bellwether.
what incredible clarity.

Today's poem II

Ya se ha puesto la noche bastante oscura
Cuando me empiesas a mecer

En las cuevas y bajos las calles
Entre las curvitas dulces y secretas
donde se callen finalmente
las canciones de los pajaritos, y
las alas de mariposas muertas
Allí. donde corren con sangre y jugos electricos
El color del melon maduro,
El color del fondo del mar
Allí se oyen de ahora en cuando
pasos, tronos, y se han sentido a veces
unos tambores discretos
Pero hoy
Se me olvidan todas las casualidades
Que me dejaron aquí
Encima de esta pequeña montaña,
(Bueno, pero no esta tan pequeña, eh?)

Al amanecer
A veces
Se me aparecen
Los colores de esos paises descubiertos
-Como me decia ese amigo mio?
A, sí -
Fenomenales


or, translated to English, -

It’s already very dark
When gently you begin to rock me


In the caves and below the streets
In the sweet hidden curves
Where birds’ songs and the wings of dead butterflies rest

There, where blood and electric juices run
The color of a ripe melon,
The color of the bottom of the ocean

There, where every now and then
the footsteps and thunderbolts have been heard,
I perceive some discreet drumbeat

Today, for a change,
I’ve forgotten the arbitrary circumstances
That left me here atop this little mountain
(not so little)

So then, at dawn
The colors of those countries
I had not seen
Appear to me
-how did my friend use to say it-
ahh,
phenomenal.

These are our histories

in a light sweat
all parts dusted with salt and sugar
certain faces express themselves in the dark
as reliefs of hypnagogic gold
two dissimilar skins pressing together
awakening familiar human geographies
to new configurations
like homonyms
equal tones, disparate in meaning
these are our histories
what skin has learned
skin shares secretly, with rare, precious strangers
between dreams
singing softly
we to us
at midnight and at dawn

enigmiac: Rearing in quaffed monk, you stun me by employing eight windows when the priest is but iodine.
VanessaIAB: the dinosaurs, they leapt and quailed and spat and slept and loved where i bought my mcgriddle.
enigmiac: You turn the atmosphere wild with currents of vitriol when you smile at the passing insects.
VanessaIAB: no one's making bricks of mud anymore and yet up up up up up go the towering structures of brown like poos from a colossal rectangular rectum.
enigmiac: Your eyes flash upon my cathode ray flesh in a manner that propels my viscera into an eternal state of turgid flux.
enigmiac: this would be much easier on you if you had what I have
VanessaIAB: i like the manhattan bridge best because it is blue.
VanessaIAB: last night i danced in the cobbled streets of dumbo while miles away my true love lay and tory played scrabble. the quesadillas were delicious.
enigmiac: the turpid climate of my welcome yesterday evening was warning enough that the summer season shall be sluggish, and devoid of any true combustion.
enigmiac: *torpid
VanessaIAB: turpid is better, love
enigmiac: your supercallowfragilekissessexmeoutthedoorstop
VanessaIAB: yoursouporsaladisdelicousnmyappetite'sferocious
enigmiac: haha
enigmiac: but I stole mine from a song
VanessaIAB: not me i'm an original baby
enigmiac: that's so AWESOME, and you don't even know why
VanessaIAB: ?
enigmiac: the song is called "free los angeles" by my new favorite band, "baby"
VanessaIAB: GOOD NAME!
enigmiac: yeah
enigmiac: you'll love them
enigmiac: I'll drag you out to see them one of these days
VanessaIAB: mmm
VanessaIAB: baby
enigmiac: it's such a great word
VanessaIAB: baby just rolllls offa da tongue
enigmiac: aww baby
VanessaIAB: *gasped at the precipice of ecstasy* baby
enigmiac: *laying in post coitial bliss* thank you baby
VanessaIAB: mmm
VanessaIAB: love that so much
VanessaIAB: the thank yous
enigmiac: of course
enigmiac: and I'll play you free los angeles later
VanessaIAB: weeoooh!
enigmiac: I wish I had a little guitar I could fold up and take with me everywhere
enigmiac: oh, here's something you'll surely enjoy
VanessaIAB: whatta concept
enigmiac: http://www.madsci.org/cgi-bin/cgiwrap/~lynn/jardin/SCG/
VanessaIAB: all the bonus but none of the looking like a pretentious jerk
enigmiac: exactly
enigmiac: I want something pocket sized
enigmiac: I wish I had an invisibility cloak too
VanessaIAB: Most certainly, your fingernails stimulate magnetism in the most organic of solvents!
VanessaIAB: ohniiiiice
VanessaIAB: ohgodohgod
VanessaIAB: Cry for the stiffness of the earlobe. The turtles are fallen and the rain stands still. How long must I suffer with your undergarments?
enigmiac: Your moist towelette speaks to me as the disgruntled post man listens attentively while pumping the iron pumpkin.
VanessaIAB: coffee was in nose, now on laptop
enigmiac: mwahahaha
enigmiac: I hope it wasn't hot
VanessaIAB: tepid
VanessaIAB: numm
VanessaIAB: evens smells restorative
VanessaIAB: wish it tasted as good
enigmiac: the tepid coffee from your nose glistens like brown diamonds on the glossy surface of your laptop
VanessaIAB: twin fingers of coffee paused in spacetime
extruded from my nostrils, grappling, glistening pseudopods
peering into the cold, outer light.
later, in a frozen snapshot of eternity they lay shattered across the letters T, G, H, N, Y and W like cabochons of glimmering smog.
VanessaIAB: too many likes in that sentence
enigmiac: full of similies
VanessaIAB: like life
enigmiac: no, life is full of smiles, if you look in the right places
VanessaIAB: from my nostrils
enigmiac: No, not there.
VanessaIAB: Haaaa!
VanessaIAB: from my nostrils, extrusions of coffee paused in spacetime, like grappling, glistening pseudopods, peering into the cold, outer light.
in another frozen snapshot of eternity they lay shattered far below
across the letters T, G, H, N, Y and W -
cabochons of glimmering smog.
enigmiac: better, I like it
VanessaIAB: right on
VanessaIAB: clive barker's The Great And Secret Show, some of the bad guys were a race of monolithic lovecraftian freakazoids called the Iad Ourobouros.
enigmiac: I'm agreeing with you
enigmiac: backing you up
enigmiac: I got your back baby, from here to eternity
VanessaIAB: monolithic lovecraftian freakazoids pretty much sums that shit up
enigmiac: wordy mcword
enigmiac: vowels mcconsonants
VanessaIAB: i got your back too - till atoms lose the will to keep it together
enigmiac: haha
enigmiac: playing scrabble last night
enigmiac: I got to use my favorite word
enigmiac: ion
enigmiac: and then, later, scions
VanessaIAB: niiiice
VanessaIAB: powermove
enigmiac: I love those words
enigmiac: because of you, many many years ago
VanessaIAB: moi?
enigmiac: si, toi
enigmiac: we were sitting in the library at dwight
enigmiac: and you handed me "the sword of shannara" by terry brooks
enigmiac: and said here, read this
VanessaIAB: ohhhh yesss
VanessaIAB: actually maybe Elfstones of Shannara
enigmiac: maybe
VanessaIAB: that was the best one
VanessaIAB: loved Allanon
enigmiac: but one of the later books is called the scions of shannara
enigmiac: there are like 9 or 10 books in that set now
VanessaIAB: yup
VanessaIAB: Demonize your sofa. It will lend forth more peanuts between the cushions.
enigmiac: my login message this morning was "today is a good day to disappoint a good friend in need"
enigmiac: it actually made me mad
VanessaIAB: login message?
VanessaIAB: buh?
enigmiac: when I log into my computer, it prints a funny message to the screen
VanessaIAB: how you get it to do that???
enigmiac: for example:
enigmiac: With a rubber duck, one's never alone.
enigmiac: you have to use linux :-(
VanessaIAB: too true, she said, nodding sagely
enigmiac: or
enigmiac: He hadn't a single redeeming vice. -- Oscar Wilde
enigmiac: It wasn't that she had a rose in her teeth, exactly. It was more like the rose and the teeth were in the same glass.
enigmiac: some are funnier than others
VanessaIAB: niiice
VanessaIAB: classay!
VanessaIAB: can i just say
VanessaIAB: Cry for the stiffness of the earlobe. The turtles are fallen and the rain stands still. How long must I suffer with your undergarments?
enigmiac: forever, said the duck
VanessaIAB: so perfection that it hurts me unduly

Sometimes sitting at home, sweating, hollering 'ASSHOLE' at the top of your lungs is actually the only thing you can do.

Who knew?

time is a circle
circles to be traced
take my fingers back ten, fifteen years
i am shrinking back to when i was growing up
these are the physical sensations:
the musics and the people and their faces
the middle of the night
the roof, the sounds of the crickets and
the train rattling in the meadowlands

the whispering of my cigarette against terra cotta painted green

the smell of the ashes from my drawer

the appaling reality of seven a.m.,

which i have never outgrown,
the truth of darkness, punctuated by infrequent lights
the same fears
going back these ten or fifteen years
can i put my head down on the ground?
can i cry out?
some days i am running through the lightest air
the water receives me
there is peace in footsteps and phone calls
some days i really wonder about you people,
i wonder what i am really doing here
at all