Decent article in…what’s that? The Christian Science Monitor? Christian science. Isn’t that an oxymoron? Anyway, it talks about the debates and how they aren’t worth a shit anyhow, mostly because it’s all staged. And they’re right. Well, what isn’t staged in today’s politics? [Link]

I have one opinion on the state of affairs right now, and that’s “give me anybody but Bush.” No one is ever going to correctly represent most of us, at least not myself. You’ve got old rich guys who are looking out for parties instead of people, and it’s all just one big boring game. Unless something huge happens, some shift in the typical American mindset that makes people say “I’m tired of this shit and I’m going to vote for someone who isn’t a fucking puppet,” things with politics won’t change. And that’ll be a while. In the end, all you can hope for is the lesser of the evil.

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Salt water and power lines

September 19, 2004

After Ivan blew its wad (and what a wad! Sorry Pensacola/FWB) things seemed to get back to normal here. All with the exception of the power being off. And by normal, I mean within a day of Ivan’s passing there wasn’t a cloud in the damn sky. Pretty surreal.

That said, there’s nothing quite like wearing the same underwear for three days straight and dealing cards to yourself in the dark. “Rummy ON THE BOARD!” just isn’t the same without another person in the room. There is a bright side – all of the candles used in the past 5 days were scented, and so the house is now imbued with the fresh and delightful scent that is lilac and cinammon. Also, having spent a couple nights alone in the dark I am now at peace with both my inner self AND nature. We are one. Fear us.

Back to Ivan’s wad. Being where I am in Florida, I was lucky enough to catch the salty goodness all over my face without putting myself in any real danger. Well, for the most part. Had the stop sign at the end of the street decided to come apart on one of its many twists and turns, I’m sure I could have been decapitated in a very exciting manner. But I wasn’t, and I’m happy I stayed despite the whole “power” thing. Besides, it’s a good reality check. The power goes off, you’re forced to sit and watch as mother earth displays her dominance…etc, etc. It could have been the many beers I had ingested prior to the main event getting me over-excited, but it all was absolutely incredible to watch. Sheets of rain hitting the streets, cloud after cloud moving across the sky at a hundred miles an hour, bright green flashes in the distance…of what I guess were my power lines exploding. Amazing stuff.

You too could experience the wonderous Hurricane! Visit Florida. http://www.flausa.com/

Anyway, my town didn’t take that much damage and I suppose that’s why everyone within a hundred miles has descended upon our fair streets to make use of our fast food restaurants and stores. Doesn’t help that McDonald’s and Wal-Mart are on the same intersection. Total chaos out there right now.

On that note, you can check out the pretty pictures I took [here].
MAYHEM. DESTRUCTION. MADNESS. CANNABALISM.

Sink, Florida, Sink

September 13, 2004

Pack up your autographed picture of Bob Barker and collect your knitting needles, it’s time to evacuate! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it’s hurricane season.

There is actually a bright side to living in an area where hurricanes are a common thing…. you get to watch the pre-hurricane panic ensue, and boy is it funny. The sound of frantic hammering reverberates throughout the neighborhood and the sweet smell of saw dust fills the air. Suddenly, there’s a certain electricity to everything.

Take my neighbors for example:

boardedup.jpg

Yep, the mention of a hurricane excites people …in a weird way. They’re like children sitting around a campfire, telling ghost stories.
“If a category 5 hits THERE WILL BE NOTHING LEFT!”
“The power will be off for three whole weeks!”
“THERE’S NO MORE PLYWOOD AT HOME DEPOT!”
“OUR ONLY HOPE IS CANNIBALISM!”

I guess their lives are really that boring. When Frances hit and it wasn’t even anywhere near the NW gulfcoast, people around here were still boarding up their windows. It’s sort of ridiculous.

Walmart is a prime example of this panic. They’re running around inside like chickens with their heads cut off trying to snatch up all the water and food they can. So what’s going to happen when the category 5 “destroys everything”? You’re going to sit in the rubble and sip on your Aquafina? Douchebags?

I’m a little worried, cause 80+ mph winds are going to do some damage either way – but how much can you possibly worry about something you have no control over? You deal with it as it comes. What are you going to do? At least if it does hit hard here I don’t have much to lose. Minimalism, ladies and gentlemen. Embrace it. I do sort of hope my house will stay entact, however. While I don’t especially love the house, it is sort of handy to have around. It makes things like showering and sleeping that much easier.

As for Crestview, well, who cares? It’s one of those places you stop to take a piss when you’re driving down the highway to somewhere of more importance. A little jostling up might do it some good.

Anyhow – good luck, fellow Floridians and yonder Alabamans! And let this be a warning from nature, Florida: don’t fuck up the election again, or you will pay.

Love Bugs

September 11, 2004

Florida. What a place. When you don’t have hurricanes tearing shit up, you have old people trying to vote and…LOVE BUGS

Love Bugs seem to have multiplied into the tens of thousands down here. I can’t sit outside without a couple of them landing on me and going at it in the way only Love Bugs can. It’s like I’m a walking Motel 6. And let me tell you… nothing is worse than being sexually frustrated and walking out your door into a full blown orgy. Thousands of the things, going at it. It’s nature’s way of calling you a pussy and punching you in the eye. I failed Darwin’s puzzle.

If you don’t know what Love Bugs are, well, they’re these:
lovebug.jpg
They’re ugly, but that’s not the first thought to hit your mind. It’s usually “those bugs are fucking, and they’re headed right for my face!” Actually, it’s on a rare occasion that you see a lone Love Bug. Should you find one floating your way, watch out, because it’s probably looking for something to have sex with. It’s what they do. They fly. They make sweet love. They are truly god’s creatures.

I’ve never looked close enough to see if they share the flying or if the male gets the workload or what, as our relationship is purely me smacking the shit out of them and cursing at them – but either way I’d say that it’s quite the acrobatic feat. They’re impressive insects, over all. They have no shame. They have no hives to retreat to, nor mounds or nests, they just fly around and fuck the living daylights out of each other, and that’s that.

You go, Love Bugs. You do your thing. Just do it in another state.

I went and saw Garden State this weekend. At first I thought I was just hungover and tired or something, but now that I look back on the movie, I feel the same. I had two strong emotions after coming out of that theater…

The first would be saddened. Mostly because guys like me who sit around and listen to Iron & Wine or The Shins in the dark, alone in their rooms, are just lowly, depressing people and they never get better and they don’t meet Natalie Portman girls who rescue them from emotional death. They just rot and play crappy acoustic guitar and float through life without changing. There are no happy airport endings.

And secondly… I’m sort of jealous. Yeah. I’m no writer and I’m no film maker and I’m definitely not an actor, I’m extraordinarily useless in fact, but I almost felt like I had something stolen from me. You mean if I wrote about getting anti-depressants thrown at me like candy, or feeling numb and and lost and alone, I could have won an Oscar or something? Who would have fucking thought… I was under the impression that most people couldn’t relate.

Either way, the movie was really good.
I guess…