I am in the middle of a mimimum 10 day sentence at the Post. If no war breaks out, I may be released as early as next Tuesday. If we do start blasting away, address your letters to Prisoner #6231977, 1150 15th Street, NW, Washington DC, 20071. The judge says my chances for an early release for good behavior are nil. It all depends on the good behavior of some guy named Osama, which seems grossly unfair.

...Chicago Tribune launched into space Tuesday after announcing to shocked co-workers that, "Shit's fucked up, we' getting the fuck out of here, and we're taking the Purple line to Mars." Angered and confused, on-lookers remarked that the upper echelons of the organization had acted according to historically precedented secular values .
Clark Joliet, a Tennessee man ticketed moments before for public urination, reminded the crowd of the Tribune's behavior during the infamous 1992 Los Angeles Riots, which destroyed a large portion of Los Angeles and propelled GangstaRap Music into the realm of general public consumption.
"Remember how they floated the press out to Lake Erie on large ox- drawn barges," he breathlessly added, " remember how they jeered, and threw ostrich bones."
A local professional woman in her twenties expressed her displeasure with the company's actions:
"The tribune had never really lived up to it's name as an advocate of the people." she said while plumbing her nose for gobs of snot to smear against the quarried-marble building's facade.
Public opinion has been negatively focused since further investigations Wednesday uncovered a letter of explanation concerning the Tuesday's drastic actions by the Tribune's senior staff.
"Shit's been planned," opined the letter's writer," We got hoe's up there, and jig's for the lay-dah's. Star Trek had Tribilts, we gots the motherfucking ultra-tribadism, up in our own private Cloud Cuckoo Land, sucka's"
The letter further described the predominantly IV league-educated, space travelers' plans concerning a scientifically observed, unlimited supply of Hennessey and Olives hidden just below the surface of Mars, a planet whose red appearance is caused by the great abundance of oxidized iron endemic in it's soil.
Corey Phlintoff, of that NPR show, (the one in the mornings) granted a small interview to the remaining press corps concerning the letter's taunting announcements.
"This developement has an un-kind resemblance to Aristophanes 'The Clouds.' I fear it will go over the heads of the Joe Tune-into-NPR-in-the-mornings-impress-the-co-workers-around-the-cooler-later demographic. Therefore, Donald Trump and I have put together a debriefing, if you will, for the public's benefit."
When asked at what time the statements would be broadcast, Phlintoff, who at had seemed nervous during the interview, seemed prepared to continue speaking, before he unexpectedly produced a three quarters-full colostomy bag from his garments, and screamed, "Its time to change the bottle," before removing himself bodily from the interview.
On Wednesday, no new developments emerged concerning the Tribune Staff's radical desertion of the planet Earth.

Actually, you're looking at one of the first planes to leave Chicago since Tuesday. I found it kind of hopeful, in a forlorn way. Cheer up everyone, soon the present will shrink back on it's normal, razor thin self, and the days won't be so oppressively long. On the other hand, we could be on the verge of entering into one of the bloodiest conflicts imaginable. Either way, in the meantime, I suggest talking to someone you have feelings for - friendly or otherwise - and pass some time together. Minutes in the arms of a friend can be as long or as short as you wish to make them.

here is a picture of an upside down tree. there are quite a few of them dangling like this at a museum in the berkeshire mountains of northwestern massachusetts. i didnt go in the museum though. kiche and i went to a bar across the street that had $5 pitchers of beer. i am once again on the lookout for a roomate. im thinking of toning down the experiments a little as this constant search for new roomates is growing tiresome. so anyways...any new yorkers reading this that would like to escape to a large apartment in the pleasant rolling hills at the feet of the hudson highlands for the low low rent of $550/month (thats the special klogs discount price) please get in touch with me. you will of course have to pass a rigorous set of physical and psychological tests, be subject to a full background check, and have a developed appreciation for single malt scotch.

My friend Greg is an American who lives in Taiwan. I asked him what the Taiwanese thought about the bombing. His reply:

People here have been pinned to the news. I've never seen so many Taiwanese
reading newspapers at one time. As I've lived here I've discovered a real
dichotomy between the Westernized Taiwanese and traditional Taiwanese (who
act more like their mainland Chinese brothers and sisters). The Westernized
Taiwanese are heart-broken and filled with disbelief about the events. These
kinds of terrorist actions are unheard of here in the Far East (outside of
Muslim Philippeans and Muslim Indonesians who are comparatively mild). So
people are trying to understand who would do such a thing. The more
traditional Taiwanese people seem curious about the events but indifferent
to the loss of life (just as they were during the 9/99 earthquake that
killed a few thousand of their own countrymen). They don't really seem to
care. However, everyone is worried about the potentially terrible effects
on the Taiwanese economy.

...

Twenty terrorists carried out the attacks. How can there be such a large
group of sick people. I'm losing faith in my previous thought that humans
at the most basic level are morally good, independent thinkers. The
previous thought is how I saw myself at a very early age - as an independent
thinker who could establish good and bad. But through my travel experiences
and through events like this I'm more inclined to think most people are
robots that only learn through values and morals fed to them (whether good
or bad!). I'm surprised and appalled.

Greg

collectors of punk memorabilia get the chance to buy a souvenir from period when a flier from the first ``Punk Special'' concert goes under the hammer at Sotheby's on Thursday. The flier is expected to fetch between $735 and $1,025, the auction house said. Sex Pistols' frontman Johnny Rotton's famous Anarchy T-shirt is estimated to fetch up to $4,400. [ story ]

Sigh.

"they can stuff their punk credentials cause it's them that take the cash" - crass

Here's a song I've been listening to, a lot. It pretty well sums up my feelings about recent events, both national and personal.

raise your voice in swells rind your meanings then use your signs inside to relive again no point in going back on what you're holding no matter it be shit or it be golden foundations shift there shifting they're still shifting we set up our falls hold on tight to your fears cause that's your hatred and that's your love as well learn to use your fears as a fuel as an engine to get you where you need to be i must always remember there's no point to surrender
Turnstile - Hot Water Music

"Evan Kilgore looks at the work of a graffiti artist who wasted little time Wednesday adorning a side of the former University Cinema just north of LSU. Both towers and other buildings of the World Trade Center in New York have collapsed."

I heard this today.

Strangely enough, it's from an album called "Armed Forces":

As I walk through
This wicked world
Searchin' for light in the darkness of insanity.
I ask myself
Is all hope lost?
Is there only pain and hatred, and misery?

And each time I feel like this inside,
There's one thing I wanna know:
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? Ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?

And as I walked on
Through troubled times
My spirit gets so downhearted sometimes
So where are the strong
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.

'Cause each time I feel it slippin' away, just makes me wanna cry.
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? Ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?


So where are the strong?
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.

'Cause each time I feel it slippin' away, just makes me wanna cry.
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? Ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding? Ohhhh
What's so funny 'bout peace love & understanding?

I've heard this song a thousand times, because I love Elvis Costello.
It just sounds different now.

Wednesday, the day after the devastating attack on the World Trade Center, my friend David
and I walked all the way from the Upper East Side to downtown. We walked along the Hudson
River down West End Parkway. All along the river we saw Police boats and Coast Guard
Vessels. There were also many check points set up along this route with armed guards.
Vehicular traffic anywhere along this route was restricted. Near all possible dock we saw
guards armed with rifles. Our trip took us along Chelsea piers, where an emergency triage
unit was set up. At this unit we saw at least thirty ambulances. We continued down until we
had a clear view of the downtown skyline. It was very upsetting. The Twin Towers of the
World Trade Center were replaced by a pillar of smoke and ash.

Thursday, I went back to work at Sotheby's. Kiche called me about noon. He had to evacuate
his office in midtown because of a bomb threat. He came uptown and we had lunch. I then sent
him back to Sleepy Hollow. Many places were evacuated that day including Grand Central
Station, Penn Station, the Empire State Building, and Times Square. After work, David and I
walked over to the United Nation building on 42nd Street at The East River. The building was
entirely barricaded to traffic, and it was surrounded by guards and police with
bomb-sniffing dogs. We then proceeded up the East River towards David's apartment. Along the
highway, we saw many police and military vehicles filled with troops. Along the river were
many helicopter patrols and police vessels on the water.

Friday, I went to work. We had an employee meeting regarding issues affecting the company.
We went over safety issues such as how to handle calls of bomb threats, evacuation
procedures, and any other emergency measures. We also discussed incoming packages, which
muct be carefully labeled and include a packing slip before it can even enter the building.
We were put slightly behind our sales because of the tragic events, but we will catch up
next week. I anticipate a busy week.

Last night, David, Ben Laurie, and I went to Central Park. There was a candlelight vigil in
remembrance of those who died in the attacks. Many people were out there to show their
support, and it was indeed heartwarming to see the people come together in such a way. We
also trekked down to Union Square, which was also filled with people holding candles.

Today (Saturday), things seem to be the most relaxed that they have been since Tuesday. Next
week, should be relatively normal. Everyone in New York City is eager to get on with their
lives as soon as possible. The strength and resolve of the people is indeed amazing and
inspiring. The best thing that any of us can do is pick up the pieces and move forward with
our lives. We cannot be afraid to go on, and we cannot be afraid to rebuild.

I was just reading a list of all the hijackers, including their birthdays. They were all so young. The youngest was born in 1980. The oldest in 1968. Most were born in 76 and 78, which made them the same age as most of us.

Tonight we rambled into the Bamboo Garden without reservations and took over a section. I told the lady that maybe eight people would be there, twelve or so showed up (Taylor, Evan, Kaycee, Michelle, Christine, Heather, Steve, Nathan, Clay, Alice, Karrie and I - I hope I didn't forget anyone). It was great fun, thanks everyone. It's nice to have friends. Hanging out with Karrie was slightly weird, but not badly so. In a weird way, I had the same feeling you get when you hang out with a girl (or boy) you like for the first time. It was sort of like that. I guess because it was the first time we really hung out with our new relationship to each other.

After, we went to Celebration Station, played some skeeball, did some Dance Dance Revolution (Boy, I bet I looked stupid) and air hockey, etc. Everyone chipped in their tickets and got me a biting cow, a mask, a vespa toy and a space launcher gun which we all threatened each other with.

Then we went outside and laughed and yelled at the people racing Go-Karts. Then everyone went home. I'm going to miss everyone.

I remember reading stories of vets from POW camps taunting their VC captors with a matchbook. The matchbook had a picture of the moon landing. They told their enemies that no matter what happened, they'd never achieve that. EVER. Sometimes when the country hits a bad point, I like to think about that story.
It's a comforting thought, the permanence we all have. No matter what happens to anyone, our individual actions are collectively burned into something that lasts forever.
Everyone's probably hanging out with Josh. Wish I could be there right now. I'll have to wait until Saturday.
Wil, hope you are on Comedy Central. Mention killoggs as a joke.
Y'all respond. I'm lonely and saddened by this week. There was a big deal at the war memorial on campus today, and the religious freaks showed up at free speech alley to dampen the collective campus solidarity. I'm sure Jesus was REAL proud of those people. I don't think the Jesus thing is bullshit, BUT I don't believe faith is a reason to go make a jackass out of yourself in the name of Christ. I like to think there's a special Hell for those people, like a perverted 'Gong Show,' where they are made fools of in front of a live studio audience, every hour of eternity.