my brush with social rev planning

ahhh, the year rolls along sluggish and discontent. new experiences with the commie pacifists deals me a new social phobia. the overtly accepting nature of these half-assed enablers terrifies me. every under privileged person's attempt at creative expression is rewarded the obligatory 'awesome!!' or 'thanks for sharing that!!' beyond patronizing, they've gone crazy and, it seems to me, that they don't care anymore. that's where the 'street spirit' and similar atrocities come from... bad writing, bad editing, no readership and something that legitimizes people that clearly need some real help into spending their whole day out on the street. keep your newspaper, man. here's a dollar and get drunk! fuck that job! most people alleviate some burden when giving these people a dollar. if i had the money, i'd give em each twenty bucks, tell em to recycle the papers somewhere out of sight and enjoy the rest of their day...

i'm a believer in clear statements. like: 'we're fucked.' or: 'i don't believe you should aim for a career in acting.' or: 'dude, don't try to learn a second language, learn to correctly speak your native english first.' don't try! don't try!! fucking do it... i've been around a significant amount of 'community organizers' lately, attending a homeless and poor people's art event, then the obligatory self-congratulations orgy. everyone seemed to believe that a communist revolution is around the corner, with the self righteous meek in the lead and the petty bourgeois academics trailing along, trying to keep everyone in ideological line. that was essentially the topic of the evening. i went straight for the strong drink. i came back just as the joint was being passed around, and armed with the courage of warm cognac and a brush with a pretty, young fellow reveller, i told the crowd that the time was ripe for a dictatorship! a communist dictatorship! instant change, overnight! all wants satiated, all needs met, all boredom amused, all antagonisms discharged! a central committee horizontally administered! a thriving black barter market to keep the weed, peep shows, and fight clubs going! but, most important of all, a revolving, but strong dictator, alternating gender roles weekly.

after some hour and a half of ruckus, i quietly slipped out. i was opposed on all counts, mostly because there just isn't any room for humor in serious consciousness raising circles. sensing i was half serious didn't help my isolated position in the 'struggle.' ahhh, back to the drawing board.

i'm back living in the east bay after this weekend, on the heels of a hot job lead, and a room with a view of a lemon tree...