I have zero business being up. I have dry laundry in the basement of my apartment building. I have a butt-ass crazy day tomorrow. It’s one a those nights. I was on an intrepid errand on this: the fucking internet people! Hurray! IT’s the fucking internet! And I stumbled over here. And read my shit. And read other people’s shit. And decided I needed to break the spell. Whoops. Whole election year went by. And I was too busy trying to wreak havoc in other mediums. Didn’t make it over. Not once. So. Obama’s elected. And now we all wade thru the shit until foolish big Bushy Bush, and icky Condi, and cantankerous terrifying little Dick Cheney are swept. Swept out. No war crimes, Dick doesn’t haven’t to share his files, even tho he’s been supena’d. Karl Rove was never held in contempt of court; he claimed executive privilege, and hell, Karl Rove is the president so leave him alone! The Internet People! Hurray! The guy I like won. Barak Obama. I wrote a song for his wife, that would have been handy over here, if I had come over here. Still could be handy. A celebration. Barak’s got problems. He’s a politician. He voted for shit in the Senate he said he wouldn’t vote for. He supports Israel. You have to support Israel if you wanna be President. There’s alotta stuff you have to do, that, being a human being on the earth, you’d rather not do. He did not lie to us to get us into a war. Hallelujah. Democratic Congress. That’s exciting right? Is it exciting? I think so. Barak might be able to get something done. Here’s the rub. The Supreme Court. 5-4 on almost every decision. Party Lines. 3 justices will expire within this presidency. 3 new ones will be appointed by who? The Executive Branch. And now the Democrats, like the Republican bitchfaces before them, will control all three branches of the federal government. Is this a good thing? Yikes. I hope so. Checks and balances? Who wants the corrupt ass Republican party checking your balances? I hope the Democrats kick ass. They won’t, but I hope they do anyway. Will George and his wack crew be held accountable for war crimes? I don’t think so. But Oh do I hope. Responsibility for your actions. Consequences. That’s why there’s a Principal’s Office. IT’s why there’s cops. It’s why there’s a coach. It’s why parents thought they were spanking their kids in the 70’s. Discipline for all. Except at the highest level. Ick. Yuck. It’s the internet everybody! YEr gonna forget how to spell, because you no longer use your mind to spell. You use spell check. This computer buries every one of my mispelled words with a red underline, not unlike Miss Nagusky, my fourth grade teacher. Do I change my errors? Well fuck it. Nope. Answer is nopey dope.
Stuart cleaned his mental scrubbrush and scoured his mind with it; not just the counter tops but the dirty floor, the dusty corners. He moved the furniture and got down on his hands and knees. He found a quarter and three dimes, which he put in his pocket. He smelled sunlight. He saw the dust and imagined that he was seeing moelcules, the little things that make the big things. He heard an airplane far away. As it got closer he fancied what he would do when it crashed into the side of his head.
Somewhere between eighth grade divorce and unicorn foreskin he came to his senses. Eighth grade divorce. N othin’ much made sense anymore. Every thing was dinitellly confused. It woudl never be the luke warm cold side shower before thhhird grade again. When it just fell goood to experience the flight of different temperatures in your muscless, Dandermoore Gerkinshteil and the fractitude know it all. He attended the study group. Only three people from honuras came. He didn’t know them. But he got it. He understood the universees infancy, it’s desperation. Is man humble? Because if it is, the nayonce is cogent. Only ageents of mischief can fuss it all up. Nascent challlengers lead to romansense. Zach Braff and his misguided school buses still offend. Market Street is full of aantiques. Chock full. This is one of 40 billion keyboards that sticks. Plentitude,
