Luke wrote "Not sure what else you're doing, in terms of media participation (or not) but your writing is becoming increasingly good these days."


The comment pleases me greatly. As for my media participation, this is it. Blogger gives me a spot in the internet vending machine and my selection is free, even if sometimes I snag on the tip of the corkscrewing dispenser. A good kick to the internets usually jars me loose.

I do have a small idea that would be a fun, low pressure way to create stories and overcome the ubiquitous loneliness of aligning letters. It's in the pre-alpha stage, which essentially means I can do it anytime I just have to get off my buttocks.

But for now, I'm all yours at no cost to you. Except for a few externalities, like making friends and me dropping by to eat your food.

* * * * *

I spent Independence Day with my family, eating and lounging about. This holiday is bittersweet for me partly due to my being a half-soldier and mostly due to the Americans that are currently dying in battle and the Americans that are being killed by poverty, poor education, and basic health care. One argument I had (with a business major) about providing healthcare despite a person's economic status. It was a friendly discussion, but I did reply hotly when she stated what is essentially the foundation for arguments against such socialized initiatives: "This is a country of individuals."

"No," I said, "This is a country of Americans." Our freedom is not being eroded by institutions such as the police, firefighters, other emergency personnel, providing public education, or the fucking post office. In my America, we don't let each other die without a fight.

Sigh. But I don't delude myself about how much the majority is willing to sacrifice. The downside of the visual medium, of course, is that it shattered our ability to conceptualize ourselves as a unified nation. If we had only the radio and the president went on a radio address and said "Americans are being killed by diseases. As a nation, we can help them" I think people would.

In a visual world, if we don't see it, it's not as real as the problems we can. It is more likely now, almost inevitable, to wonder "Well, what kind of Americans are being killed?"

Now this guy makes me proud to an American.



The feeling I get from watching this is pride, envy, a touch of despair, and hope. Perhaps this is how a parent feels as they let go of their children.

The hope I feel is not for the future, but for the present. We can do this right now. The bit of sadness comes with all truths; it encompasses my experiences and illuminates everything, the good and the bad. I've not drank in a three months or so, which is a long time for me, and despite the chemical shenanigans when it reacts with my medication, the most effective motivation has been the saccharine happiness that it brings, the truth-in-shadows.

As a substitute, it is a poor one. Happiness isn't just a feeling, and it certainly isn't achieved by shutting out other feelings. What alcohol gives me is a pleasant distortion. Picking out shapes in the clouds, singing along to static, dancing to white noise.

This makes me feel happy by taking me away from my environment, giving up my awareness, by going to another place. In doing so, I have often literally lost the ability to communicate, as anyone who has been privy to my drunken ramblings can attest.

I still want to drink. The desire is the same. But right now, I am focusing on my other desires. I guess I just don't want to miss anything.