Two days off from work have left me refreshed and eager to return to the concrete jungle and perpetual tribal warfare amongst cargo cults that is my work site.

And I picked up some gear from REI to assist me in my battle for...something.

Now that I've seen Transformers 2 I can rest easy knowing that cinema is dead and I look forward to the feelies described in Brave New World.

The movie's climax in Egypt reminded me of my job: an incoherent mess with multiple head injuries and a lot of spinning. The temperature is also about the same.

I enjoyed it because it was a lot like the cartoon. Including the Autobots driving from Washington to Egypt in what seems to be one day.

My nephews saw the original Star Wars. Just the end, the assault on the Death Star. They were transfixed. Forgot to even finish their churros.

I was pleased, and yet I despaired because I was providing more childhood joy for George Lucas to rape.

Perhaps I will only let them see the original films and refuse to acknowledge the existence of the prequels.

Shouldn't be that hard.

From the journals:

Luis died on the 22nd of February. The jungle vines of tubes from the life support devices were hacked away; the intravenous bags of solutions dangling like overripe fruit from stainless steel branches were plucked and packed. I was not there to protest. My goodbye had been that afternoon after a doctor had allowed me to go over the x-rays and the rest of the final pages of his medical history. I knew then that my littlest brother would not face tomorrow with me.

His hand was cold as I held it and my brain screamed goodbye. I regret now that I had not covered him up, that I had not insisted he be kept warm. Luis always wrapped himself up almost completely when he slept. As a baby, he had even refused to drink cold water. It had to be above room temperature.

He was cold then, in his last days. I hope he dreamt well. I hope he dreamt of me, and of the songs we would sing in the car. I hope he dreamed of his dogs. Luis had just undergone his Confirmation as a Catholic, and if he was right then I will not see him again. Perhaps I will go where the dogs are, and keep them company and whine along with them when we dream of our masters.

Wandering Albatross

-In which I meant to report upon events I deem significant in the development of The Nephews (hereafter referred to as "The Twins" (unless individually referred to by name in which case still to be considered as an inextricable part of The Twins and serves primarily to provide a more exact reference in the regards to food preference, trouser length, and in the providing of comfort object(s))).

Now, on to more transparently ego-centric blather.

I saw the film Earth. Kelly and I are in California visiting Jeff, Janan, and Ryan. Raced go-carts and was scolded for bumping. Went to Ryan's play and ran into Beth Froehlich. Ate an excellent lunch with Beth and her mother, Terry. Terry had served as head of Special Education in Luis's and my high school. She, Beth, nor myself spoke of him, although perhaps we hugged a little more tightly and did not attempt to proclaim our tears to be of joy or of sorrow, if ever again I will consider the two as separate, knowing now what I do of love.

I got a job. Devoured a Krispy Kreme donut. Was scolded by a South African for eating in the theatre. Told that story about the time I got arrested by Park Rangers in the Grand Canyon, got hypothermia, and wrecked my motorcycle in the same day, in somewhat unrelated incidents with the only common factor being snow. Passed an FBI background check, apparently. Bought a Nintendo DSi. Used it to write this.

Twenty-eight days have passed since my littlest brother Luis died. An entire Black History Month later, and I still feel like Iron Man punched me in the groin.

Thank you to everyone who expressed their sorrow and condolences to our family. I'm truly sorry that I have not taken the time to thank you personally. Please understand that I'm not trying to appear mysterious or emotionally complex, not this time. During the funeral service and memorial held for Luis, I was at home. In my closet hung a freshly dry-cleaned suit and polished boots, but I never made it into that suit because I was in bed hugging my old Care-Bear and crying into my pillow.

I loved my little brother and I miss him. He was so funny and frustrating and I know I'll never have that again. I can't speak for how other people feel about their siblings but my brothers and sister are like my soul mates, if soul mates were required to be alternately wonderful and annoying in inverse proportions.

I've lost a whole world.

I am not religious, and I'm glad I'm not because if there was someone or something I thought I could blame for taking my brother...I would be lost in my own anger.

Luis is dead; Long live Luis.

I am left, we are left, to continue living. My heaven and hell are here, my paradise and paradise lost, the cost of having loved him, the debt for having lost him.

I wish everyone could have known him. He was so beautiful.

The desert knight rides again. I'm off to investigate reports of monster sightings in northern Arizona. I'm pretty eager to find out more about these "sparkly vampires" that are said to roam the area. I'm not sure how to take them out, or even what they are fully capable of.

I strongly suspect that they have the same weakness as almost all vampires: strong narrative style, scenic descriptions that contribute to mood and theme, and a story driven by character action and growth and not expedience of plot.

Oh yeah, they hate that shit.

I do not have a superhero name, or maybe all names are mine. Nor do I wear a costume, or maybe I wear all costumes. It's irrelevant because no one is meant to recognize me as a superhero. No one will ever call me on the superhero phone or a shine my emblem from a spotlight.



But they know me. Every time someone says "That was close," or "Things could have been a lot worse," that is where I am, where I was. My hand is unseen, if I'm doing it right. Because it's not about cool gadgets and sweet costumes or a league of super friends. I am here and I cannot save the world. But I believe things could be a lot worse if I chose to do nothing at all.