Sunday, April 11, 2004

Last night, walking out of Sqwires just as Lafayette's was getting it's post 1am crowd, smelling the perfumed ladies, and then later, walking in the park, smelling the delicate negotiations among pistil and stamen across the dew-dropped fields, and following the wondering wandering mind to thoughts of making love under the moon, I can't help but imagine that florals must have been some key part of our evolution, to drive us still with passion. Only the scents in the park, the picking up on nature, rather than some falsely pheromoned human, are where the real intimacy will be, connecting directly with that outside ourselves that directs that within us, that consumation of the relationship we have with the universe. Of course, getting laid can be one way to widen that path of discovery, be a pleasant diversion from it, but isn't itself connectivity. You just hope that someday each of us gets it. I was realizing tonight that one of the ways the Dalai Lama and other enlightened humans are able to so fully embrace all of humanity is that they see the being not just in the present but in the context of both the past and the many futures, where, eventually, all of these fellow spirit kind are enlightened and his or her peers, rather than students or oppressors. That very act of agape is a signpost for me in my own belief in the eventual transcendence of humans, or this very universe, plane of existence. The ones who have been there still come back, and generally they're smiling, or willing to undergo the most degrading and painful death simply to demonstrate the all consuming nature of hope and love. That's a part of my Easter lesson today. When she was expressing her paranoia at coming and waiting upstairs until she felt ready to drive again, unfettered by her fear that the cops at the end of the block would notice her expired tags, and whether or not that would be appropriate since I hadn't met her boyfriend, I told her that on Easter Sunday, I'm gay. That she needn't worry. The thing of it is that I so would have liked to have down some tantric breathing with someone who would at least get the breathing part, not even to have tantric sex, as much as experience intimacy. Of course, in some ways that would have been much deeper than sex, but others might not view it as such as long as it didn't involve fucking, or if I had been a gay friend, not a threat to someone else's sexual entitlement to his woman. It all makes sense, of course, and I wouldn't have wanted to be the boyfriend on the waiting end (or hopefully I'd be the boyfriend on the waiting end whom she would want to get home to to explore the universe together), but what a drag that the whole scene got weird well before the first blush of weirdness arose - just old fashioned jitters, tied into an old fashioned scipt.  That's the tricky thing now too, with the spring thing going on, along with whatever other juju is happening - trying to be clear, without sounding freaky, about the fact that while what they're feeling may seem like a different kind of romantic thing, or even sexual thing, that it's just a feeling of comfortable and safe intimacy, like people who are really good with dogs and children, functioning on that subconcious level. 2:34:52 AM

One of the things that completely amazes me about how well trained the right wing's army of stupid white men are is when I overhear stupid white men comments like "all of the terrorist information existed on Clinton's watch" which they probably heard Rush Limbaugh say and repeat it, incessantly, to their even less informed dumberer white men. And they say it with such gusto, like the man tonight saying that coal did not have an impact on pollution, that the greenhouse affect was caused more by volcanos than anything humans were doing. You could show them information that directly contravenes any anti-factoid they spew, but they have a built in answer for that as well - the liberal media bias. The beauty of all of this is that the architects of inanity, this burgeoning fascist state, have one of the stupid white men seated as president. Again, nice man, probably tips well even, unlike his mom, but not someone you want heading up anything, ordering anything around, other than maybe the annual Kiwanis Club BBQ. The more ominous truth is likely that Bush is the most brilliant architect of them all, playing down his true theocratic intentions by seeming the reactionary. 2:06:59 AM