Posted on October 20, 2004 in Campaign 2004 Myths & Mysticism
I just noticed that Election Day falls on November 2, the Day of the Dead or All Souls’ Day.
Posted on October 20, 2004 in Weather
We’re coming on the third day of blue skies — dark blue skies that pour out bits stolen from the ocean. Flash flood warnings splat all over the Internet as rain comes down down down. As I finished this sentence, I heard another wall of water advancing down the street. In front of it is this soprano drip drip drip boring holes in the air and the puddles on the ground.
The weather swings wildly back and forth like a broken door. This front may make up for the drought of 2004. We don’t usually get rain like this in October: it’s one of our drier months. Last year at this time, I worried about fires sweeping off the Saddleback. This year it’s the black tide of mud, an occultism threatening to deluge us.
Tomorrow I’d planned to go to Orange for a poetry reading. It’s important to keep your work before the public, develop a following. Here on the edge of Los Angeles I hope to be found, to be seen as good for something. Up until now, I really haven’t been trying. But the rain is coming down and I think I will have to cancel my plans.
I’m going crazy here. Crazy with the tapping. Crazy with the stiffness in my gut and my chest. I ate too much because I could not walk. Rain is good when it is is separated by a week or so of dry weather. I keep remembering as I watch the weather reports predict yet another day of precipitation the warning of local poet Lawrence Smith about the Santa Ana River: it’s been called the most dangerous river in America by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. (There — if I haven’t motivated you to believe by appealing to your common sense, maybe your patriotism will compensate.) In twenty three more days — if this keeps up — Prado Dam will fail and the Orange will disappear. Except for those of us who bought homes on hilltops. The coming flood — if it arrives — isn’t biblical. It will just be a disaster beyond all imagining.
A little excitement to make up for the incarceration this weather is imposing on us. I’d rather see the sun again.
Posted on October 19, 2004 in Anxiety Blogging Campaign 2004 Mailbox
I can’t say that I find this beat-em-with-sarcasm approach very helpful.
Posted on October 19, 2004 in Campaign 2004 Scoundrels
We have yet another reason to make a drastic change in November.
Posted on October 19, 2004 in IRC/Chat Morals & Ethics
How they make themselves suffer for the sake of avoiding compassion!
Posted on October 18, 2004 in Campaign 2004
My advice is reach for the hand and let him pull you in his boat.
Posted on October 18, 2004 in Citizenship Journalists & Pundits Thinking
The moment we see wild theories and glamour shows taking flight from the mouth of a pundit, it is time to just turn our television off.
Posted on October 18, 2004 in Campaign 2004 War
I made it very plain we will not have an all-volunteer army.
Posted on October 18, 2004 in Campaign 2004 Daily Life Television
Jon Stewart shows he is a more serious journalist than the pundits.
Posted on October 18, 2004 in Campaign 2004 Site News
I believe that this election will mark a spiritual renewal of America.
Posted on October 18, 2004 in Campaign 2004 Morals & Ethics
The source of this has asked me not to reveal the author’s name.
Posted on October 17, 2004 in Travels - So Cal
You can smell what the city has eaten when you round or swim in the waters of San Diego’s Mission Bay. They present it as a triumph of Nature, but everywhere you see concrete, imported grass, and the tracks of earth-moving equipment. Near the waterside, white pieces of clam mix with the mud to form striated mosaics fixed in a grout of the leavings of human bowels. Tumbleweeds grow on the knotted dunes. On Fiesta Island, you can follow the tracks of dogs for miles through the alien thistles. By day, people sit in bleachers to watch unconscious supporters of Osama Bin Laden waste gasoline in jet ski and motorboat races. By night, they gather driftwood and burn bonfires until 10 pm when the park closes.
San Diego’s poor and homeless approach the estuary like black specks approach the wick in the wax of a burning candle. They go through the garbage; they cast their lines for halibut, kingfish, or shark; or use the waterless porta-potties. Many have white hair flowing down their necks, off their chins, and out of their bared chests.When no one is looking and the moon is new, they strip off their clothes and bathe in the water, adding their filth to the purge of the city.
San Diego was and continues to be a Republican city where the Chamber of Commerce says Pretty-pretty over its garbage and its sewage. No where can you better see and smell our future if we continue our current politics of denial.