A friend of mine asked me, "So are you moving back to Orlando?"
It ain't lookin so hot.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Friday, May 26, 2006
Only Three Days Left to the Fringe
I always seem to do more drinking in the Beer Garden than seeing the shows I'm supposed to be watching. I will have to trim the list to fit them in. I'll let you know which ones I found well done.
Some have already been selected as "Patrons' Picks." These successful productions get an encore performance after the final day of the Fringe Festival.
Some have already been selected as "Patrons' Picks." These successful productions get an encore performance after the final day of the Fringe Festival.
AIPAC
AIPAC = Asses In Prostrate Acceptance of Cum
Those politicians are looking real dignified.
Leave it to those silly straight people to never know when a thing is out of style.
Those politicians are looking real dignified.
Leave it to those silly straight people to never know when a thing is out of style.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Comedies of Errors
"That's nice. But how do I get a hold of you?"
My Fringe friend failed to inform me of one critical piece of information. He was demanding that I make good on my promise to see him after the final show that day. But even in this odd world that I inhabit, I can't be expected to read minds --not about phone numbers, anyhow. We could have just met at some predetermined location, but apparently that would not suffice...
But I suppose that's the whole point of the Fringe: loosey-goosey, catch-as-catch-can, never know what surprise may come about. But I intend to meet up with him. Let's not add one more to a comedy of errors.
More shows to see today!
My Fringe friend failed to inform me of one critical piece of information. He was demanding that I make good on my promise to see him after the final show that day. But even in this odd world that I inhabit, I can't be expected to read minds --not about phone numbers, anyhow. We could have just met at some predetermined location, but apparently that would not suffice...
But I suppose that's the whole point of the Fringe: loosey-goosey, catch-as-catch-can, never know what surprise may come about. But I intend to meet up with him. Let's not add one more to a comedy of errors.
More shows to see today!
My Spirit Lives On
So yeah... I see that my understudy has taken the stage... You may have seen him...he's fighting cops and claiming to be Luke Skywalker.
"Leave me alone, fuckers. I'm Luke Skywalker."
You tell 'em, Brother. Good on you.
[Reference Alert: http://blogs.orlandosentinel.com/news_local_orlandocrime/2006/05/man_yelling_he_.html ]
[Here is the original. From the Sentinel:]
Reporter Willoughby Mariano filed this report: An Orange County physical education teacher was repeatedly shot with stun guns and hit with batons after he shouted he was a character from Star Wars and charged a police officer, police said Monday. "Leave me alone, [expletive]. I'm Luke Skywalker," David P. McCann, 30, of Orlando (shown at left) shouted at a police officer, according to a report.
It was 2 a.m. Saturday at Tanqueray's, a downtown Orlando club. McCann, a Colonial High teacher, was shouting at passers by at East Pine Street and South Orange Avenue. His shirt was unbuttoned.
An officer told him to leave. McCann charged at him, his arm raised high, according to the report. The officer shot a pepper spray-like substance, but it didn't work. They began to fight.
McKay whacked away the officer's Taser and knocked him to the ground. Officers punched him, Tased him, and whacked him with the baton. They kicked him in the groin. Nothing worked.
"Like an enraged mad man, McCann grabbed the [T]aser wires and ripped them free from the [T]aser," the report states.
Attempts at reaching McCann were unsuccessful.
It took several officers and numerous baton and Taser strikes to take McCann into custody. Three officers left with bruises and other non-life-threatening injuries.
"They said it was the worst case of resisting they'd ever seen," Jones said.
McCann had no complaints of injuries and was taken to Orange County Jail, according to a report. He was released on $1,000 bond.
McCann was hired August 2004 on an annual contract basis, said Lin Wright, a school spokesperson. School officials decided against renewing his contract several weeks ago, he said.
McCann was removed from the classroom, Wright said.
"Leave me alone, fuckers. I'm Luke Skywalker."
You tell 'em, Brother. Good on you.
[Reference Alert: http://blogs.orlandosentinel.com/news_local_orlandocrime/2006/05/man_yelling_he_.html ]
[Here is the original. From the Sentinel:]
Reporter Willoughby Mariano filed this report: An Orange County physical education teacher was repeatedly shot with stun guns and hit with batons after he shouted he was a character from Star Wars and charged a police officer, police said Monday. "Leave me alone, [expletive]. I'm Luke Skywalker," David P. McCann, 30, of Orlando (shown at left) shouted at a police officer, according to a report.
It was 2 a.m. Saturday at Tanqueray's, a downtown Orlando club. McCann, a Colonial High teacher, was shouting at passers by at East Pine Street and South Orange Avenue. His shirt was unbuttoned.
An officer told him to leave. McCann charged at him, his arm raised high, according to the report. The officer shot a pepper spray-like substance, but it didn't work. They began to fight.
McKay whacked away the officer's Taser and knocked him to the ground. Officers punched him, Tased him, and whacked him with the baton. They kicked him in the groin. Nothing worked.
"Like an enraged mad man, McCann grabbed the [T]aser wires and ripped them free from the [T]aser," the report states.
Attempts at reaching McCann were unsuccessful.
It took several officers and numerous baton and Taser strikes to take McCann into custody. Three officers left with bruises and other non-life-threatening injuries.
"They said it was the worst case of resisting they'd ever seen," Jones said.
McCann had no complaints of injuries and was taken to Orange County Jail, according to a report. He was released on $1,000 bond.
McCann was hired August 2004 on an annual contract basis, said Lin Wright, a school spokesperson. School officials decided against renewing his contract several weeks ago, he said.
McCann was removed from the classroom, Wright said.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Beer Garden Genius
Sitting in the Beer Garden, some broad at my table is talking about her social life or whatever. She's talking about what kind of people she will and will not permit in her life. "Yeah," she informs us all, "I can't stand mental people. You know, people with...whatever problem."
Now, it's not my place to jump into a conversation that isn't mine to begin with, but I couldn't resist. "Mental people? You mean crazy people? Artists?"
"Mmm hmm." She nodded her head enthusiastically as if I had just grasped a self-evident truth to which she had long been privy. All the while, she has her Fringe program open, circling the shows she wants to see.
"Who do you think puts on those shows?" I motioned to the program. "These 'mental people' that you refer to put themselves in very confusing and frightening places in order to come back with something that...you...[motioning to her] can hang on the wall." She didn't seem to understand what I was saying. "If it wasn't for these...'mental people'...this world, made by non-mental people like you, would be far less livable."
I pointed at the string of party lights above the table. "Who do you think discovered electricity? Who invented the light bulb?" I pointed at the guy playing the djembe. "Who do you think came up with that instrument? With the music?"
"If it wasn't for mental people, you'd be sitting on the ground, playing with your toes, wondering why life was so shitty. And I'll tell you why it would be shitty: The world would be influenced solely by the uninspired. You, missy, are privileged that these...mental people...would permit you to watch them work."
Now, it's not my place to jump into a conversation that isn't mine to begin with, but I couldn't resist. "Mental people? You mean crazy people? Artists?"
"Mmm hmm." She nodded her head enthusiastically as if I had just grasped a self-evident truth to which she had long been privy. All the while, she has her Fringe program open, circling the shows she wants to see.
"Who do you think puts on those shows?" I motioned to the program. "These 'mental people' that you refer to put themselves in very confusing and frightening places in order to come back with something that...you...[motioning to her] can hang on the wall." She didn't seem to understand what I was saying. "If it wasn't for these...'mental people'...this world, made by non-mental people like you, would be far less livable."
I pointed at the string of party lights above the table. "Who do you think discovered electricity? Who invented the light bulb?" I pointed at the guy playing the djembe. "Who do you think came up with that instrument? With the music?"
"If it wasn't for mental people, you'd be sitting on the ground, playing with your toes, wondering why life was so shitty. And I'll tell you why it would be shitty: The world would be influenced solely by the uninspired. You, missy, are privileged that these...mental people...would permit you to watch them work."
Yahoo! Music: Somewhere Only We Know by Keane
Chris King Pop Icon (nowhere@ckpi.com) has sent you a page from the Yahoo! Music Engine. Somewhere Only We Know by Keane
http://yme.music.yahoo.com/ymeNav/ymu/song/2116159
Personal message:
Use the Yahoo! Music Engine to discover and buy new music, listen to radio and more. Don't have the Yahoo! Music Engine? Get it Now. It's free. http://music.yahoo.com/musicengine
Some Fringe Thoughts
OK. Here are some thoughts on the Fringe Festival:
-I would rather pay ten dollars to see a tightly executed thirty-five-minute show than ten dollars to see some bloated, overwrought, ninety-minute mess.
-If all your characters have the same voice, then you can fire most of the actors and have the one remaining actor deliver all the lines. It's just more efficient that way. It saves on wardrobe.
-If I fall asleep in your show, it sucks. Please take note.
-Have a crew member note, on a clipboard, the frequency and times of people checking their watches. This is an excellent way to see where the show needs tightening. If someone checks his watch, it means that you have lost him as an audience member.
-I would rather see a one-man or one-woman show than a big production. It's just a matter of personal taste. Especially if the performer wrote the material, it's a delight to see someone pull it off. And please give these folks a charitable dash of faith; they're attempting to carry an entire show alone. It ain't easy.
-------------
These are shows that I did not fall asleep in:
-Mr. Charles, Currently of Palm Beach
-Mary's Wedding, by Stephen Massicotte
-The Lion Queen and the Naked Go-Go Cub
-Hedwig and the Angry Inch
These are shows I hope to see:
-A Canadian Bartender at Butlin's
-Orlando Vigilante
-Something You Do Not Want to See
-Realtime
-Doodie Humor 3: To the Turd Power
-Self Development for Dummies
-Ever Expanding
------------
What happened to the quality beer offerings in the Beer Garden? Last year there were quality local brews. This year it is solely mass-produced garbage. I consider myself a bit of a beer...enthusiast...if not an authority or even an aficionado. I can drink a quality beer all day --and night-- long and get up the next morning at six and mow the lawn. But have four or five of this crap beer and you've got a splitting headache. So forgive me if I won't drink it. Aside from depleted uranium, crap beer is the most destructive of American exports.
(I'm not complaining about the existence of the Beer Garden. And I understand the economics of it. But here's the point: You will sell more beer --and make more money to support the Fringe Festival-- if you sell something that will not make someone ill for drinking it. Bad beer has a built-in, sales-limiting governor. It's called sugar.)
-I would rather pay ten dollars to see a tightly executed thirty-five-minute show than ten dollars to see some bloated, overwrought, ninety-minute mess.
-If all your characters have the same voice, then you can fire most of the actors and have the one remaining actor deliver all the lines. It's just more efficient that way. It saves on wardrobe.
-If I fall asleep in your show, it sucks. Please take note.
-Have a crew member note, on a clipboard, the frequency and times of people checking their watches. This is an excellent way to see where the show needs tightening. If someone checks his watch, it means that you have lost him as an audience member.
-I would rather see a one-man or one-woman show than a big production. It's just a matter of personal taste. Especially if the performer wrote the material, it's a delight to see someone pull it off. And please give these folks a charitable dash of faith; they're attempting to carry an entire show alone. It ain't easy.
-------------
These are shows that I did not fall asleep in:
-Mr. Charles, Currently of Palm Beach
-Mary's Wedding, by Stephen Massicotte
-The Lion Queen and the Naked Go-Go Cub
-Hedwig and the Angry Inch
These are shows I hope to see:
-A Canadian Bartender at Butlin's
-Orlando Vigilante
-Something You Do Not Want to See
-Realtime
-Doodie Humor 3: To the Turd Power
-Self Development for Dummies
-Ever Expanding
------------
What happened to the quality beer offerings in the Beer Garden? Last year there were quality local brews. This year it is solely mass-produced garbage. I consider myself a bit of a beer...enthusiast...if not an authority or even an aficionado. I can drink a quality beer all day --and night-- long and get up the next morning at six and mow the lawn. But have four or five of this crap beer and you've got a splitting headache. So forgive me if I won't drink it. Aside from depleted uranium, crap beer is the most destructive of American exports.
(I'm not complaining about the existence of the Beer Garden. And I understand the economics of it. But here's the point: You will sell more beer --and make more money to support the Fringe Festival-- if you sell something that will not make someone ill for drinking it. Bad beer has a built-in, sales-limiting governor. It's called sugar.)
FutureTitle
This is a show title that I need to fit in somewhere, someday: "I Just Want Everyone to Understand How Beautiful I Am"
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
This Place Stinks of Beer and Piss
Peter Hurtgen Jr and I will be signing up at the open mic at Wills Pub Wednesday, May 24th. No telling when we'll go on. Probably around 11pm.
We're still fleshing out our two-man routine, but we're pretty much decided that it will involve the telling of painstakingly crafted bad jokes (I want to work in "Condoleeza Nice" somehow,) then we'll hurl racial epithets at each other for a while, and then have a live sex show. That's how we're billing it, anyway.
If you've seen all your Fringe shows for the day, come on out to SpeakEasy at Wills Pub on Mills (17-92) just south of Loch Haven Park. You'll see some of the best poetry and spoken-word around. Oh, and there's a special performance by Buddy Wakefield at 9pm. SpeakEasy will start at 10.
Postscript: Buddy Wakefield was awesome! Funny, smart, destructive. Pete did not show up.
We're still fleshing out our two-man routine, but we're pretty much decided that it will involve the telling of painstakingly crafted bad jokes (I want to work in "Condoleeza Nice" somehow,) then we'll hurl racial epithets at each other for a while, and then have a live sex show. That's how we're billing it, anyway.
If you've seen all your Fringe shows for the day, come on out to SpeakEasy at Wills Pub on Mills (17-92) just south of Loch Haven Park. You'll see some of the best poetry and spoken-word around. Oh, and there's a special performance by Buddy Wakefield at 9pm. SpeakEasy will start at 10.
Postscript: Buddy Wakefield was awesome! Funny, smart, destructive. Pete did not show up.
Monday, May 22, 2006
Huh?
Somebody by the name of Bill O'Reilly is calling for a boycott of something.
His audience is undiscerning people with dirty feet and no money. How much clout does he think he has?
His audience is undiscerning people with dirty feet and no money. How much clout does he think he has?
Cucka News
[Chris on stage, fully hammered by this time]
"So I was watching JewNews last night..." [Clucking and nervous looking-around from the audience] "I'm sorry. I won't...be doing that...again. ...I was watching the Fox News Channel last night..." [Sighs of relief from the audience as I'm now using the right words]
"So yeah...I see they've got a new studio...in the White House." [Chuckles from the audience despite themselves]
"I guess they're layin claim to their bitch. Make sure he doesn't go cucka now. You know, ruin the whole thing."
"So I was watching JewNews last night..." [Clucking and nervous looking-around from the audience] "I'm sorry. I won't...be doing that...again. ...I was watching the Fox News Channel last night..." [Sighs of relief from the audience as I'm now using the right words]
"So yeah...I see they've got a new studio...in the White House." [Chuckles from the audience despite themselves]
"I guess they're layin claim to their bitch. Make sure he doesn't go cucka now. You know, ruin the whole thing."
Saturday, May 20, 2006
I Have Made My Triumphant Return to Orlando
I replant my freakflag of justice!
I had to resort to feint, subterfuge, and crazy back roads, but I have arrived home in my five-quadrillion-dollar car. I am taking a week to see my friends' shows at the Orlando Fringe Festival. It's where all those queer thespian types go each year.
Should you desire to have your henchmen arrest and/or kill me on any pretext, you will find me at Loch Haven Park --or wherever they're having the Fringe this year. Do remember that your agents will require a $5 Fringe button to arrest me at any show. (These shows aren't cheap to put on, you know. Don't cheat the Fringe.)
More later.
I had to resort to feint, subterfuge, and crazy back roads, but I have arrived home in my five-quadrillion-dollar car. I am taking a week to see my friends' shows at the Orlando Fringe Festival. It's where all those queer thespian types go each year.
Should you desire to have your henchmen arrest and/or kill me on any pretext, you will find me at Loch Haven Park --or wherever they're having the Fringe this year. Do remember that your agents will require a $5 Fringe button to arrest me at any show. (These shows aren't cheap to put on, you know. Don't cheat the Fringe.)
More later.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
When's the Fitting?
I found a cryptically phrased postcard under my door. It read:
JUSTICE LEAGUE
I scribbled on it:
SEND A UNIFORM. AND QUICK.
JUSTICE LEAGUE
I scribbled on it:
SEND A UNIFORM. AND QUICK.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Deep in the Bowels of the NSA
Deep in the bowels of the NSA...
Analyst #1: "Hey, man, I could use a second set of ears here... I'm trying to decode this latest Chris King Pop Icon cellphone call. You know how everything has two meanings to him... I can never tell if he's just fucking with us or if he's calling forth his army to kill us all."
Analyst #2: "Sure. No prob. [Wheels around his chair.] Have you hit that new intern yet? She's got a sweet ass." [Starts the recorded cellphone conversation. Electronic switching noises and timecode beeps on the recording.]
Chris: "What up, G?"
Analyst #1: "Doesn't he know that's out of style?"
Analyst #2: "It's part of his shtick."
Anonymous Second Caller: "Right. Nothing. Listen, did you get that stuff I needed? You got the cash I left at your place, right?"
Chris: "Sure did. You are gonna loooove what I got for you. Those...'ten-penny nails'...from the...'hardware store'...are the best I've ever seen. Next time, I can even get you a...'dimmer switch.' It'll blow your mind..."
Analyst #1: "I _knew_ this guy was dirty..."
Anonymous Second Caller: "Will you stop it? Did you get the cat food in Keene today or not?"
Chris: "I'm just trying to make things fun for everyone involved... Yeah, I got your special fuckin dietary restriction cat food. I forgot the cash at home, though. Good thing I had my debit card with me."
Analyst #2: "Call up his financial records. What's he been buying?"
Analyst #1: "Uh, lessee... [Types away into illegal data mining system terminal.] Um... Here it comes... In general, it seems to be a lot of beef jerky and Astroglide. Oh, and ammunition."
Anonymous Second Caller: "Great. Listen, are you coming out Friday night?"
Chris: "You mean, will I be...'coming out'...to everyone at...'the place'...as Supreme Ruler of 3-Space?"
Anonymous Second Caller: "Why does every conversation with you have to be so difficult? Are you coming out drinking or not?"
Chris: "Oh, I'll be...'drinking'...alright... Drinking in the sweet nectar of world domination! Basking in my...schaden...freude...ish glow! I plan to issue the final protemporal programming that will make my enemies' agents into my own minions! Har Har!"
Analyst #1: "Hey, man, I could use a second set of ears here... I'm trying to decode this latest Chris King Pop Icon cellphone call. You know how everything has two meanings to him... I can never tell if he's just fucking with us or if he's calling forth his army to kill us all."
Analyst #2: "Sure. No prob. [Wheels around his chair.] Have you hit that new intern yet? She's got a sweet ass." [Starts the recorded cellphone conversation. Electronic switching noises and timecode beeps on the recording.]
Chris: "What up, G?"
Analyst #1: "Doesn't he know that's out of style?"
Analyst #2: "It's part of his shtick."
Anonymous Second Caller: "Right. Nothing. Listen, did you get that stuff I needed? You got the cash I left at your place, right?"
Chris: "Sure did. You are gonna loooove what I got for you. Those...'ten-penny nails'...from the...'hardware store'...are the best I've ever seen. Next time, I can even get you a...'dimmer switch.' It'll blow your mind..."
Analyst #1: "I _knew_ this guy was dirty..."
Anonymous Second Caller: "Will you stop it? Did you get the cat food in Keene today or not?"
Chris: "I'm just trying to make things fun for everyone involved... Yeah, I got your special fuckin dietary restriction cat food. I forgot the cash at home, though. Good thing I had my debit card with me."
Analyst #2: "Call up his financial records. What's he been buying?"
Analyst #1: "Uh, lessee... [Types away into illegal data mining system terminal.] Um... Here it comes... In general, it seems to be a lot of beef jerky and Astroglide. Oh, and ammunition."
Anonymous Second Caller: "Great. Listen, are you coming out Friday night?"
Chris: "You mean, will I be...'coming out'...to everyone at...'the place'...as Supreme Ruler of 3-Space?"
Anonymous Second Caller: "Why does every conversation with you have to be so difficult? Are you coming out drinking or not?"
Chris: "Oh, I'll be...'drinking'...alright... Drinking in the sweet nectar of world domination! Basking in my...schaden...freude...ish glow! I plan to issue the final protemporal programming that will make my enemies' agents into my own minions! Har Har!"
Yahoo! Music: 11-0 - Urban Hymn by Blank and Jones
CKPI (nowhere@ckpi.com) has sent you a page from the Yahoo! Music Engine. 11-0 - Urban Hymn by Blank and Jones
http://yme.music.yahoo.com/ymeNav/ymu/song/17839775
Personal message:
For this show, you will occasionally see me refer to music. Some scenes require a musical score. This piece, "Urban Hymn," is to be played at the start of this show, "Here I Am."
You may find it useful to subscribe to an online music service. For a flat monthly fee, they let you legally listen to and download hundreds of thousands of songs.
I have subscribed to several over the years, and find Yahoo! Music to be a good service. Do not consider this to be an endorsement. But they do seem to be able to do it right.
So for about five or seven dollars a month, you can ditch your record collection and listen to nearly anything.
If you choose to subscribe to Yahoo Music, I recommend the "Y! Unlimited" grade of service. It lets you just type in a band name or song name and just listen to it right then and there. It also lets you save the song to your computer for later use. You don't "own" the song; you just have the right to listen to it for as long as you subscribe to the service.
I will probably be making extensive use of music in this show.
Use the Yahoo! Music Engine to discover and buy new music, listen to radio and more. Don't have the Yahoo! Music Engine? Get it Now. It's free. http://music.yahoo.com/musicengine
Happy YumYum Breakfast Time!
I would normally rule the world from the comfort of my Westin-Grand-Bohemian-meets-the-Clampetts Vermont home, but the internet at the house is out.
So I came into downtown Bellows Falls to have some coffee and a bagel with lox and hazelnut cream cheese (no capers, thanks, or whatever those things are) ...a treat for my normally reclusive self to be enjoyed at a cool little cafe. In the architecture of the building, in the rain-slick narrow street it lines, in the disinterested friendliness of the staff, the place seems right out of the East Village.
I brought my notebook computer in a backpack. I found an empty booth in a Feng...shui...ish-ly comfortable spot and unpacked my computer. At the next booth sat a young husband and wife with their son, probably around three years old. The boy watched me walk up, sit down, and turn on the computer. He asked, in the innocent way that only a young child can, "Are you going to destroy the world?" His parents smiled and laughed with me --though, I'm guessing, for completely different reasons. "No, son," I thought, "Let's hope I know what I'm doing."
From the mouths of babes comes the very word of God...
-----------
I find it funny that the White House (or, more precisely, the interests that employ George Bush as their plaything) calls journalists "unpatriotic" for revealing uncomfortable truths.
When your standard, tobacco-chewing, thirty-thirty-carrying, good ole boys finally figure out that you are not...of them...watch out. You are about the least patriotic thing one could conceive of.
So I agree with you: Traitors deserve the full fury of a hoodwinked nation... No one likes to be tricked, you big silly...
And if you, dear reader, have been flirting with treason rather than having committed to it, you had better get right, whistle a happy tune, and sidle away from the you-know-whos.
----------
That Bush itinerary that wound up in the trash? Conveniently found by a bum or somebody... a bum who found time to be so concerned about the welfare of a man of the people...that he turned it in. Yeah.
I haven't followed the issue, because I really don't care. I seem to have half-heard or seen a story to this effect. So I'm not sure of the details.
But if it turns out that my half-heard appreciation of the story is true, then I'm guessing this printed itinerary was a plant. Probably designed to give plausible reason for replacing the Secret Service presidential security detail with some military guys. George Bush is afraid his own Praetorian Guard is going to knife him.
Some call George Bush paranoid. Well, maybe. But as WKRP in Cincinatti's Johnny Fever once sagely explained, "When they _are_ out to get you, paranoia is just good thinking."
So I retract everything I said before about George Bush being stupid. He's actually a genius. ...Because they _are_ out to get him...and that whole bunch...
-----------
When I came into the cafe an hour ago, I stopped at the table of a man I know casually and professionally...through the job I held at the computer store. I showed my respect for his privacy by limiting my conversation to a brief moment. He seemed...OK...that the conversation was short.
When he left, I noticed that he made no effort to say goodbye. That's OK. To him, I'm a crazy. But to you --and for the boy I earlier met-- I'm saving the world.
But we'll keep that our little secret...
So I came into downtown Bellows Falls to have some coffee and a bagel with lox and hazelnut cream cheese (no capers, thanks, or whatever those things are) ...a treat for my normally reclusive self to be enjoyed at a cool little cafe. In the architecture of the building, in the rain-slick narrow street it lines, in the disinterested friendliness of the staff, the place seems right out of the East Village.
I brought my notebook computer in a backpack. I found an empty booth in a Feng...shui...ish-ly comfortable spot and unpacked my computer. At the next booth sat a young husband and wife with their son, probably around three years old. The boy watched me walk up, sit down, and turn on the computer. He asked, in the innocent way that only a young child can, "Are you going to destroy the world?" His parents smiled and laughed with me --though, I'm guessing, for completely different reasons. "No, son," I thought, "Let's hope I know what I'm doing."
From the mouths of babes comes the very word of God...
-----------
I find it funny that the White House (or, more precisely, the interests that employ George Bush as their plaything) calls journalists "unpatriotic" for revealing uncomfortable truths.
When your standard, tobacco-chewing, thirty-thirty-carrying, good ole boys finally figure out that you are not...of them...watch out. You are about the least patriotic thing one could conceive of.
So I agree with you: Traitors deserve the full fury of a hoodwinked nation... No one likes to be tricked, you big silly...
And if you, dear reader, have been flirting with treason rather than having committed to it, you had better get right, whistle a happy tune, and sidle away from the you-know-whos.
----------
That Bush itinerary that wound up in the trash? Conveniently found by a bum or somebody... a bum who found time to be so concerned about the welfare of a man of the people...that he turned it in. Yeah.
I haven't followed the issue, because I really don't care. I seem to have half-heard or seen a story to this effect. So I'm not sure of the details.
But if it turns out that my half-heard appreciation of the story is true, then I'm guessing this printed itinerary was a plant. Probably designed to give plausible reason for replacing the Secret Service presidential security detail with some military guys. George Bush is afraid his own Praetorian Guard is going to knife him.
Some call George Bush paranoid. Well, maybe. But as WKRP in Cincinatti's Johnny Fever once sagely explained, "When they _are_ out to get you, paranoia is just good thinking."
So I retract everything I said before about George Bush being stupid. He's actually a genius. ...Because they _are_ out to get him...and that whole bunch...
-----------
When I came into the cafe an hour ago, I stopped at the table of a man I know casually and professionally...through the job I held at the computer store. I showed my respect for his privacy by limiting my conversation to a brief moment. He seemed...OK...that the conversation was short.
When he left, I noticed that he made no effort to say goodbye. That's OK. To him, I'm a crazy. But to you --and for the boy I earlier met-- I'm saving the world.
But we'll keep that our little secret...
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