Tell me you're not so sick of Dubya. Come to think of it, maybe everyone is, because I don't know that I've even heard that nickname used on him for months now. No more cozy nickname, no more approval rating, NO MORE DUBYA!!! Oh, wouldn't that be great?!?!

And you know what would be greater? If there was no more stupid lame duck Democratic nominee, like the stupid, bearded Al Gore. Gee Al, how can you make yourself even less appealing? Umm, wait, you're already incredibly boring, your stand on policies is lukewarm, you're the former VP of a president who went out with a shameful wimper (remember impeachment, Al?) Yeah, the beard's a great idea.

But I do have an answer for us. And the answer is Green! Yes, green. As in the Green Party. The only time I've heard a national-level political figure speak, and I've fully agreed with his stands on policies, and felt that he wasn't jerking off on my shoulder with some precalculated, soft-sell, candy-coated nothingness was watching Ralph Nader. Now, I'll grant you, the rest of the Green Party may need to learn a little more about Naderism, because, please, when Ralph descends the podium, the biggest parade of dorky bleeding hearts gets on stage. But there's at least hope. And I hope that there's a future for Ralph, and what's more, I hope that there is a future much as Ralph envisions it in the US, because he's a bulldog on corporate bullshit, he wants to put the "democracy" back into the hands of the people, and he wants to end the gluttonous flow of soft money into and all around the political infrastructure of DC.

I am sick, nauseated, and furious about the corporatization of our country. About the exclusively consumerized policies of the government. The total lack of regard for preservation, conservation, legalization and civilization that our government is ruling with. We live in a third-world country. Have you ever looked at the city streets? Have you noticed how many people live on the sidewalks? Or how many buildings are crumbling into decay? While on the outskirts, people are cowering in their oversized, over-marketed straw houses? How long will the homes built by the Toll Brothers stand? 100 years? 50 years? And does it matter? No, because they aren't meant to be lasting. They aren't meant to be proud pieces of craftsmanship, built to last, and be passed on to a proud family. They're meant to impress. Come over to my HUGE house, and sit in my HUGE chairs. There is no comfort to me in a huge house without any thought of the rhythm of the home, the flow of traffic, the pulse of the neighborhood. They're just cardboard boxes, and when you're done, you just throw 'em away.

Well, I'd like to throw Dubya away, and get a real government, that has a measure of sense. And that, as far as I can tell, is Ralph Nader. And if there's anyone else out there like Ralph, who can inspire others to take the leap of faith and stand up and demand honesty and democracy, shit, you've gotta do something.

Fuckin' blogger. I wrote this whole long BLOG yesterday and when I published it, I got some error message back and then I stupidly closed the window, and lost my whole post. Ah, crap. So, I'm sure it was extremely important, and would have changed the world, and would have been picked up by the New York Times as the freshest social and political commentary to come out of our generation. And now it's gone, and I can't remember what I said. THAT's how important it was. Do you ever notice that the really important stuff that you TRY to remember is so dang hard to remember? I can remember a birthday cake that my mom made for me when I couldn't have been more than 10 (hamburger shaped, sesame seed bun and all), and I can remember the phone number of my friend from 5th grade (664-6899), but I can't remember a really brilliant analogy I had thought of (brilliant), and I can't remember an interesting realization I had about life. I had really unraveled one of life's intricacies, and in that moment of revelation, forgot. Or fell asleep, more likely.

It's all sort of moot honestly, because no matter how many doors I open, and answers I find behind those doors, the only really important answers are the ones that are lived. Like, here's a favorite. I had a moment, and the beauty of this is that it's recorded on tape, but let's not stray, so I'm having this moment, on my living room floor, with the music on, and high as a fucking kite, and I realized that the only moment of any importance is NOW. And that as soon as you dwell on that moment, you're no longer living or experiencing NOW. You're already re-living THEN, and then is of no consequence, because you have gotten out of touch with the moment. Yes, yes, very hokey, but that's almost exactly the point. If you are really in the NOW, there is no assessment of "performance", because there is no time for it. There is in fact no time for any conscious interpretation as we know it. But what's really great is that at that exact moment (yes, NOW) we are so fully aware of everything, that memory is no longer of essence. Because what I found was that everything I have ever experienced IS in my memory. Every song I've ever heard is committed to memory, and it is the interference of conscious effort to drag it OUT of memory that stifles it's recovery.

Here's an analogy that is very much "up my alley"...If you try REALLY hard to take a shit, you'll never get it out. I have trouble with that. I constantly find myself locked up, trying to distract myself so that my subconscious will take over and get things "moving". That's why I read. Not because I enjoy stewing in some malodorous lockbox. Okay, that's my shitty analogy. But I wonder if that's why people watch so much TV? Not because they particularly gain anything from the program, but if it is engaging, their mind is off is la-la land while they're distracted. Although this would make the most avid TV watchers the most enlightened folks around, so my theory is clearly bunk.

Okay, so here's the best part of living NOW, and a non-shit analogy. When I experienced "NOW", and I had identified that the moment was of greatest urgency, and to look back was to miss the moment, life, being, etc. I was listening to music. Music that I had listened to over and over, but if pressed, could not have recited more than 2 lines of. And suddenly, in perfect harmony, I sang along, and in tune, and on key and the right words, and it wasn't because I was thinking about what came next, in fact, it came because I didn't. I sang what came to my lips, and at that moment, found that every note I'd ever heard had taught me to hear the note I should be singing next and all without my consciously trying to sing it. And what came out was beautiful, and I know, because it's on tape. And I'll tell you, I knew it as I sang it, too. It was a wonderful moment of Flow, consciousness and clarity. Speaking of Flow, if you haven't read it, you should pick up and read it. I can't even begin to pronounce the author's name, but the book is dope.

But I haven't been able to maintain that moment, the awareness and living life NOW. I am afraid of it. I am afraid that I will say the wrong thing, if I am not constantly monitoring myself. Or do the wrong thing, or hurt myself in some horrible way. So I have closed that door on that experience. And I'm not living that answer I found.

Okay, I'm done.

Apartment hunting without a job is like fishing without a hook. You can see the fish, and they will come and observe your naked line, but no matter how much you want them, they just won't jump onto your line and hang on while you reel. It doesn't work. It's actually a little more frustrating to look for apartments, because you really have no idea what you can and can't afford unless you have a job. Which is very frustrating, because right now, I have no job, nor prospects, and Alicia has no job and no prospects, and all we have is a storage unit full of crap, that costs almost as much as an apartment, but without windows or a bathroom, an shit.

So tired of living on the verge. I much prefer to have either dived into the chasm and be struggling on the floor to emerge, or to be living happily on the plateau, with a lovely view of the great beyond. But living on the edge, and swerving toward the hole is really annoying. And I'm a bad swerver. Have you ever noticed that when you're walking on the edge of a really high wall or floor, with no railing (and I'm speaking literally here, not metaphorically) you have the urge or unconscious drive to pitch yourself off? Or is it just me? I've found that a couple of times. There I am, literally on the edge and teetering, but with plenty of room away from the edge, flirting with death. I don't know why. I feel this pull off-balance toward the danger. And then I steady myself and say, "Whoa, IDIOT, what the hell are you doing?" And I step back. Very strange feeling.

It's a lot like looking for apartments without a job. Or something.

Fuck, I need something solid.