Round and Round and Round We Go...

Interestingly enough, I had a thought I never thought I'd have today:

I can't wait to get home and go to work.

Which is both a measure of how fucked up this day has been, and how fortunate I am to have a 'job' that seems like a vacation from the rest of the world...

If you've ever read Alice In Wonderland, you'll probably be familiar with the Caucus Race - and you'll know how I feel after having dealt with both the parking situation at TVI, and subsequently with the Financial Aid office. A lot of running around and around and around and around... resulting in absolutely nothing.

It is very difficult not to be entirely discouraged about the prospect of actually getting back to school right now, but I'm doing my best to remain in stubborn denial that it is impossible.

It would probably be easier to get financial aid if I were a person of color with 3 illegitimate children, but we can't all have the advantages, can we?

And no, I give not a RAT'S ASS about the political incorrectness of that statement, because it's fucking TRUE.

Harumph. I'm going to go paint now.

What Really Makes Her Royalty

Favorite Quote of the Day, from Carrie Fisher (the Artist Formerly Known as Princess Leia):

If my life weren't funny, it would just be true.

Ain't that the truth...

Won the Battle...

...but lost the war?

The State of Massachusetts high court issued a ruling today that grants the right to marry to same-sex couples.

Now, President Bush has issued yet another war - to 'protect the sanctity of marriage'. He has warned that he will consider seeking a Constitutional amendment banning gay marriage.

He isn't happy anymore with subverting the Constitution - now he's just going to bloody damn well start re-writing it.

He seems to have conveniently forgotten that, traditionally, it is the Constitutions role to grant rights, rather than revoke them.

One of my best and dearest friends in the world is gay. What does he want more than anything in the world? Besides an unlimited Arts budget to produce show after award-winning show, I mean.

He wants a husband and a child.

And my President wants to make his dream unconstitutional.

I watched Strange Days again the other night. And as stupid and Pavlovian as I know my reaction is, I started to cry - again - when Angela Bassett gets the living shit beat out of her by the bad cops. And even more when the streets around them erupt into the New Year's beginnings of a full-scale race-riot - that gives every indication of becoming the next Civil War.

I have a feeling that this country is about to burst open at the seams, very soon. We're so close.

And the thing of it is, the way things are now -

I would fucking welcome it.

I know I'll feel different if it actually happens. My friend the activist talks about how frightened she is that her grandchildren are going to grow up in a country that tears itself to pieces by systematically marginalizing, one after another, greater sections of its own populace.

She's afraid of the same thing I am - that we are, truly, living in a house divided against itself.

We're both afraid of what's going to happen when the roof finally caves in.

I don't know why, but I've always had this weird fascination with post-apocalyptic fiction. Real end-of-the-world stuff. I've always had this feeling that I needed to know how to survive. My favorite book in third grade was My Side of the Mountain, with it's detailed descriptions of how to skin a deer and cure the hide, to make acorn flour, build a home from the hollowed out remains of a dead tree.

I suppose you can imagine the effect that Fight Club had on me.

I've gone from righteous indignation at the potential plight of gay couples to survivalist mode in about five minutes.

I'm probably just a socially-maladjusted freak.

But how far are we from curing strips of jerky on abandoned freeways when the document our country was built on is nothing more than an Etch-A-Sketch?

How far can a country be pushed, until the people being dangled from the precipice start grabbing at the ankles of the ones doing the pushing -

How far are we from all finding out just where the edge is, and just how far down it's going to be?