el dia de hoy

al fin

i arrive.

in mCallen, texas.

such bush country, it's berzerk. peter, that book should be titled, "Whatever happened to South Texas?"

i left houston. slowly and painfully so. i read "paco mentiras" at the open mic on friday night thanks to the invite by my good Salvadoran friend Karlita. i miss her and houston.

i'm now in rural america, if you can call it that. it's amazing how much rural south texas has in common with rural kansas.

aqui se acaban mis palabras por hoy. despite the bush frenzy down here there are some exquisitely beautiful souls. 

najaf

najaf is found to be explosive.

the war continues and hummers hum along.

i missed mass.

ill soon be a godfather.

im trying to learn to write from baldwin. someone writer once wrote that baldwin taught him to write calmly when he's angry.

perhaps ill slowly begin to write again. for the same reason that i gave peter for learning to play the guitar. for my own damn good.

bush boys win.america doesn't

the boys come in to class.

"mister, they got lin baden...",

"no, they captured saddam hussein."

"yeah, that one."

porn at the pottery barn?

or the spider hole.

the sadness of it all. the ignorance of an
america

gone blind by bushites and cheney
chums

and how exactly does the pentagon
fight

halliburton

and where the hell is houston if not
here

at a place called home

or someplace so seemingly same

or so seemingly unsane

like enrons and the child left
behind

somewhere close to the place

paige left houston

for d.c.

where he likens

comparing
norm reference tests
and criterion reference tests

to

comparing
bull riding
and sheephearding

didnt quite follow. something about both
involving livestock...and shit, of some sort

(no high school football metaphors

this time.)

while these kids he left behind that he claims
to have helped

keep dropping out

to wash dishes for the

bush boys

he now resides with.

standards?

enron.

bullriding.

halliburton.

sheephearding.

december days

as is evident, my posts are scarce these days. the daily dose of writing i committed to a while back has for more reasons than one, gone the way of dirty piles of laundry and dishes left undone...

just returned from being in the woods for a few days. no internet access. just trees and a lake.

come january, im not sure what this space will look like. not sure i care right now. perhaps more personal, perhaps more political. perhaps neither.

miserable failure

although miserable failure were dick's words, i think i'm going the route of dean...

the lesser evil..for some...

the middle of nowhere, where

is it anyway?

it was a piece

on this american

life last

sunday

the place youve

never heard of..

until you hear about it..

and then, you cant stop

hearing about it...

gore goes dean...

or en

Dorses Dean...

and joes just not

right for the job.

what job?

in other wor(L)ds...

the us is sorry in afghanistan...

and in baghdad, drive by's

are in...

el(los) dia(s) de ayer

three days.

some random thoughts about

jesus saving the lost and how,

somewhere, somehow, i want,

but dont, quite feel

lost.

or at least dont feel the need

to feel found.

three days.

baker and bush do the twist.

more boys die in baghdad.

putin sounds the trumpet.

and all of a sudden,

bush and blair arent

the only ones

claiming victory on

miserably lost causes.

bad ass boys

US army boys are bad asses riding atop their tanks and bradleys. according to the bbc's peter greste, it took them "...two hours and all the weapons they had to fight their way out of the city." according to us reports, 54 were killed . wHo counted?

the UN warns the world isnt doing enough to hold off a chemical or biological attack from al-qaeda...while the us thinks world's aids crisis is out of control. . WHO EXACTLY is THE us AND THE un?? since when did the US become a leading advocate against the aids epidemic? since when did the UN become a wise, intelligent advisor to the world? aren't we ever so grateful for their wisdom and warnings. what would we do without these two world leaders?

in other wor(L)ds,

the lord of the rings finale premieres in nuevo zelandia.

soy mejicano, me thinks

soy mejicano muy materialista. se me van, o se fueron, los dias de protesta. ese ni~o idealista que so~aba en algun dia cambiar el mundo. ahora me siento solo. escuchando a manu chao en mtv en espa~ol en mi nuevo television de flat screen con canales hasta la...

y como escoger...

como llenar mi plato...

saber como parar...

y no tener que

siempre ser, el

ultimo en el bar

manu canta de las calles de barcelona. las calles que muy facil pueden ser las calles del parque del periodista en medellin. o la de la plaza de los sapos en puebla. las calles oscuras de coyoacan. donde el deseo del cigaro siempre sale. salen tantos deseos. las calles y deseos donde,don sabina nos cuenta,habita el olvido. y no solo el olvido.

y esos bares y tabernas donde, como iglesias raras, no predican redencion ni salvacion, solo comunion. y eso siempre lo encontraras. como la taberna italiana con paderes amarillas en la avenida sexta de cali. donde el due~o y el dj eran el mismo. un sudafricacano con abuelos holandeses y uno esposa boliviana. era siempre nuestro lugar preferido.

y ahora me cuenta mi amiga que nuestra taberna y el sudafricano ya no siguen alli. ahora el due~o es de cali. y tocan salsa o vallenato. como si no hubiera suficientes lugares con los sonidos de salsa o vallenato en cali. habia veces cuando a alguien le daba las ganas de escuchar a patsy cline o frank sinatra o quizas una cancion clasica de los beatles. y para eso uno tenia que ir a visitar al sudafricano en la taberna italiana en la avenida sexta de cali. donde por supuesto siempre se escuchaba la voz de manu. pero ahora mi amiga, junto con la taberna, dejo a cali y me cuenta que habita en carolina del norte. donde se conformaria en encontrar solo un lugar donde escuchar y bailar salsa.

the turkey lands

the turkey lands.

something didnt sit so well. delores downstairs was drenched. our bathtub apparently leaked.

kierkegaard spoke of a teleological suspension of the ethical. those were the days. now i merely write of ketchup stains and how much mustard costs. yet i pay. i pay for that damn good spicy mustard. the little, round glass can is always so much more expensive than that big, plastic squirt bottle. but thats the one you want. you always want the smaller one. its just so damn good.

so while the thanksgiving theater is going on, europe is busy building a joint defense. to defend against whom may i ask? the US is not pleased. im not sure who the US is exactly because i was never asked. it means cheney chums and blinded bushites.

on this day

On Nov. 17, 1973, President Nixon told an Associated Press managing editors meeting in Orlando, Fla., that "people have got to know whether or not their president is a crook. Well, I'm not a crook."