Today the financial bailout failed because Congress voted against it. Some blame Nancy Pelosi, the Speaker of the House, and her speech right before the votes were cast; for persuading a significant number of democrats and republicans to vote against the bill. Here is the speech. It's important. And pardon my french, but it's about time somebody said "No" the greedy fucks that have been misleading the country for the last eight years...those dudes are lost in a world of illusion (and need some help).

Sunday morning I left the apartment a little early to go swimming because my roommate had a friend over and I thought the fact that they had been holed up in their room until almost eleven was an indication of either a) shyness about the visitor and the potential awkwardness of a roommate meeting one's choices or b) having their own morning. I took it upon myself to leave early to "do them a favor" by not being around, so that they could come out and have a private breakfast, something I'd wish for if the circumstance were the other way around.

It is this offer, this suggestion of "putting oneself first," imaging what somebody might want and taking care of this imaginary need that is the flip side of resentment, the "I've done enough [for you]" feeling that I often experience with those I have a particular, familial type relationship with. The trick, if this is a trick, is to recognize the reasoning as it's happening and thus make sense of my reaction to the situation rather than feeling forced into some false moral dichotomy about the right thing to do. If I'm feeling generous, it's no problem to make a necessary or imaginary sacrifice for somebody else, but if not....

Last Monday I tried to explain what resentment meant to a Korean industrial design student who was, like all undergraduates at my school, required to take a course on narrative storytelling. Sans dictionary, I explained resentment as blaming somebody for forcing you into a choice, and gave the example of the guy who resents his friends for borrowing money from him. KJ (the student) asked, "Why would you keep lending them money if you didn't want to?" The swimming pool, this morning, was full of light.

the following are three reviews of local pizza places that i wrote in application for a job as a "pizza reviewer" as found on craigslist:

Arinell Pizza is a quick and delicious New York style slice served by the punkiest of punk rockers along Valencia Street in the heart of San Francisco’s Mission district. The slices are thin and plain, and while most ask for their slices plain in the traditional wide slice style, you are welcome to add toppings. Their oven renders the slices with a hint of carbon that approaches classic thin crust perfection provided that you get your slices fresh, which rarely happens if ordering by the slice. Your best bet is to order a whole or a half pizza for guaranteed excellence. Arinell is perfect for the quick lunch slice or before you hit the bars (if you're into that kind of thing).

Serrano’s Pizza, located on 21st and Valencia in San Francisco’s Mission District, is a richly rewarding pizza nook, perfect for picking up a fresh and hot slice on a Friday after work and you’re just too tired or depressed to worry about making dinner. Though the crust and sauce are nothing special, Serrano’s huge list of California fresh toppings and specialty pizzas keep things interesting. That, and the fact that if you order a slice, they make it from scratch (four dollars for two toppings on a large slice and a fifteen minute wait). Yes!

Cable Car Pizza, located on Valencia, between 16th and 17th streets in San Francisco’s Mission district is your typical Lebanese mediocre pizza heat lamp, one that blares techno at inappropriate volumes to an empty room full of plastic tables. Their slices are large and greasy and completely unremarkable. If you’re in the mood for “pizza,” in as generic a sense as that word could mean, Cable Car Pizza will fit the bill. On the upside, there are plenty of seats and unlike most pizza places on and off Valencia, you would be able to fit more than six people inside the restaurant.

Announcing a new old chapbook as part of the H_NGM_N's Combatives Chapbook series: "The Revisionist". Thank you Nate Pritts and H_NGM_N! This is exciting for a few reasons, one of which is that this old boy is something that I'd wanted to be out there for a while and finally it is. Those who have seen drafts of longer manuscripts in recent years have seen it before! Sorry it's not new to you! The poem (a not all that long long poem) dates back to pregraduate school and is sort of my last gasp of willful naivite before I went and got schooled! It's also the turning point of when I began to think my ideas were more interesting than my being! Boy was I wrong! John Kinsella read a draft of it and correctly inferred that I didn't read much poetry! Things have changed! Thanks for reading!

hi. over the weekend i drove up to fort bragg where i saw massive amounts of hitchhiking neohippy types walking down the road. but that's not why i drove up there. i drove up there to pick up my mom from a horse riding trip that she had been on for a week. on saturday i drove up to fort bragg and observed many a hitchhiker and wondered if that was the way it always was in fort bragg. combine this with "already dead" the denis johnson novel i've been reading that is full of northern california burnout types and i got a creepy feeling about fort bragg but it probably isn't as bad as denis johnson makes it out to be. at the time that was okay because there was cable television at the hotel i was staying at and watched again the movie michael clayton. that is a supremely excellent movie. highly recommended. i wrote a poem about it even. that's how much i like that movie. so satisfying and slightly slightly metaphysical, he walks up the hill to see the horses and his car blows up. but why did he walk up that hill to see the horses? the entire movie serves to answer that question and then resolves with a highly satisfying ending. it reminds me of the same kind of satisfaction i got from watching the virgin suicides where you know how the movie ends sort of but forget about when watching the movie. i just got an email from erkia and she wondered what i was up to because this blog doesn't actually reveal anything.

events continued: i picked up my mother on sunday morning from the horse ranch a sprawling do it oneself bed and breakfast called the howard creek inn built entirely by a man who told my mother and i that he told his wife he was going out to get ice cream when he was twenty eight and had made a lot of money from television and never came back and instead ended up in northern california where nobody was living thirty years ago and you could pretty much just find houses and furniture and wood and build things out of them, such as his sprawling bed and breakfast. try dying and get rich. he recommend being homeless and i suggested we talk about it when my mother isn't around. but today was funny, the museums being closed my mom was really into the "go cars" the little scooters that tourists rent to see the city so after work that's what we did and though i was supremely embarrassed for a little while i got used to it and it was actually kind of fun to ride around in the goofy little machine that people smile at but you're not sure why. tomorrow we're going to alcatraz. yup. living large. turns out that there was some kind of music festival by fort bragg thus explaining all the hitchhikers.

If You

If you were going to get a pet
what kind of animal would you get.

A soft bodied dog, a hen--
feathers and fur to begin it again.

When the sun goes down and it gets dark
I saw an animal in a park.

Bring it home, to give it to you.
I have seen animals break in two.

You were hoping for something soft
and loyal and lean and wondrously careful--

a form of otherwise vicious habit
can have long ears and be called a rabbit.

Dead. Died. Will die. Want.
Morning, midnight. I asked you

if you were going to get a pet
what kind of animal would you get.

___________Robert Creeley, from "For Love" (1963)

wednesday morning the sun continues to climb i have to admit i've been concerned about that super collider that they've been getting ready in europe the seventeen mile loop of vacuum tube (approximately) that took twenty year to build (approximately) where a team of very excited physicists will smash seventeen billion electrons (approximately) against each other in hope of producing something called the higgs particle that might be the little speck that clues us in to how mass/stuff is created and then finally a small group of scientists could say they were right text books would change and we could be one millionth of a degree closer to unlocking the secrets of the universe. great. really. but there is the off chance the slim chance that smashing electrons into each other at speeds that simulate such events as the big bang could in fact reset the universe or create a black hole which we will all be sucked in to end of the world good bye. here are some facts. but always we're predicting the end of the world so this is probably just more of this kind of thinking fear of death personal issues blown up into the political. in other news, last night my shady employer offered baseball tickets which i took them up on to see the giants it was a nice night a beautiful stadium looking out onto the water. my pants smell like urine. beuno.

Last Thursday McCain spoke of the shallowness of self as compared to giving oneself over to a cause greater than oneself. He spoke of his love for his country and not much else. The next morning I wondered what loving your country or giving oneself to a cause has to do with education,the housing crisis, health care, or the war in Iraq. 

During a freewrite towards the end of the summer semester, using the prompt "the world is..." a student wrote: the world is a joke when your school hires an idiot to be your role model, and smirked, looking me directly in the eye as she read it. The class gasped. I looked down, cringed, and kept moving. Later, going over a handout on the fallacies or argument we came to a section on "name calling" and we got a chance to talk about the inability of labels to advance discussion in a productive way. Instead, dead ending it in a binary: no, I'm not / yes, you are, etc. Sarah Palin...

Sarah Palin and Rudy Giuliani seem like smart people whose imagination has failed them, leaving us with caricatures of people and ideas. It takes a lot of energy to paint a realistic picture. School started today and it will be good to get my mind out of the political gutter. On the bright side I finally got a San Francisco Giants hat for the low low price of one dollar. Finally the guy at the convenience store will get off my case for wearing an Athletics hat. He will be so proud!

back in san francisco and getting ready for the new semester that starts today but don't need to be in class until monday. who am i talking to? the last three days were spent up in oregon for a delightful romp in the woods with old friends say buddies boozing and eating and walking through lakes and up rivers and sinning and laughing maybe chuckling and sleeping in cold cabins protected by fires and morning sun roiling open eyes and bringing mosquitoes and choices. that is to say there is a lot to be done before monday in terms of getting ready for class the most difficult task of switching mind frames from indulging the id to returning to the ego not that either are exlusive or singular but politics, the parts we missed in the woods and on the way to the airport giuliani couldn't help but laugh that obama was a community organizer and this made us angry the blatent disrespect and the absolute insanity that people would be willing to vote for four more years of a republican administration unable to admit failure and the absolute supremacy of media in this country and my mother's comment that she would really have to reconsider "what kind of country we live in" if mccain won and in the newspaper a letter the comment that jesus was a community organizer and that dude giuliani is a seriously ignorant jackass but that's politics they say to project paranoid neurosis onto your brothers and sorry about that but dang it made me angry it's a hot day in san francisco going swimming at five i'll see you there.

Palo Alto is filled with helium balloons floating up above the heads of its celebrating citizens. Last night Obama talked about "...an economy that honors the dignity of work." Wouldn't that be nice? Watch the speech here. It's important. And have a most excellent day. Friend Liz is coming down from the city and to go swimming, the last days of summer break...

Palo Alto is filled with cars and streets. It is also filled with hot weather. I went to the pool yesterday to stretch my swimming muscles and found hundreds of children who had already found the pool. Last night I watched Joe Biden offer an amazing speech an amazing account of his life, what needs to change, Obama etc. My favorite part of the speech was the beginning, after his son's introduction, how proud he is of his son, and what his father had told him,that if your children come out better than you than you've done a good job. Or what his mother told him after his first wife and daughter were killed in a car crash: god gives you no cross that you cannot bear, which is probably a religious cliche but it made sense to me last night. These are the bits that moved me and the rest was mostly politics, justified attacks on the current Bush administration and the likelihood, based on McCain's record, that he would be continuing the current administrations policies. Then it got weird, the convention, Obama accepting the nomination a day early, and then appearing on the stage as a "surprise guest" like some kind of reality show where the contestants get their next assignment from Hulk Hogan or Marissa Tormey. But it must be kind of strange for Obama, with everybody around him and supporting him significantly more experienced. I don't mean to bring that up, the experience issue, but after all that Clinton and Biden speech making and conviction and confidence, Obama's stage appearance made him seem like the junior senator he is. I guess we'll see tonight, through his speech, what exactly he has`to offer because even though he was out and about in the`spring, it feels like it's been a long time since I heard him speak. I write this with one hand, the other holding a warm compress to my eye which seems to be going through some kind of sty, a side effect of swimming and goggles. Thus with one hand and one finger, this was typed s.lo...w..ly. Don't forget about w.yo..min..g

Personality Test

Do you pay your debts and keep out of trouble
Do you admire beauty in others you have loaned to
Can you accept defeat easily in an emotional situation
Do you throw things away only by looking
Do you speedily recover from it is too late
Do you often feel for no apparent reason
Do you find you make yourself nervous
Do you work and work against you
Do you consider the disagreement
Do you browse through behavior
Are your opinions projects
Do you turn up about you
Hear the wind or you
Do you belong to you
Do you turn unreal
Are you an effect
Are you involved
Is your life a fear
Do you consider
Are you aware
Are you original
Can you easily imitate
Can you accept
Can you trust
Do you often
Are you always
Would you like to
Work against you
Do you throw things
Do you have few
Do you refrain
Do you find it easy
Do you feel
To express your
That people are
That the speaker is
Do you turn off
Do you turn unreal
Would you admire
Would you prefer
Is your life
Do you find
Do you keep
Can you stop
Would you give
Do you have
Do you resent
Are you readily
Is it normally
Would you usually
Have you any
Are you so
Is it too
Do you not
Do you speak
Do you work
Do you tend
Do you try
Did you ever
Were you ever
Will you ever
Know?

Moving to New York in January (circa 2006)

Adam was the first person I spoke to in New York.
Rain was the first weather I experienced in New York.
A Honda Civic was the first car I rode in in New York.
An apple was the first thing I ate in New York.
My brother is the first person I called in New York.
“Turkish Kitchen” was the first restaurant I ate at in New York.
Barbara is the first person to not call me back in New York.
Johnathan is the first person I wrote and email to in New York.
The L was the first train I took in New York.
Grape Juice was the first thing I bought in New York.
The first meal I made in New York consisted of sausage, cheese, and horse radish.
My first breakfast was waffles and tea in New York.
Barbara was the first person who called me back in New York.
Union square was the first place I met someone in New York.
“The Cellar” was the first bar I went to in New York.
Talking about pulling skin off my lip was the first time I felt awkward in New York.
To buy fabric with my brother was my first outing in New York.
“American Ape” was the first book title I misread in New York.
Adam's black hat was the first thing I borrowed in New York.
Janet was the first person who referred to me as a poet in New York.
My brother was the first person to tell me their dream in New York.
The first snack I ate in New York was peanut butter and crackers.
“Who gets to call it Art?” was the first movie I went to in New York.
The “Foxy” was the first gallery I went to in New York.
B. was the first person to tell me “We're not getting back together” in New York.
14th and 1st was the first corner I tried to change somebody's mind in New York.
Adam's apartment was the first place I was bummed out in New York.
Molly was the first person I called for comfort in New York.
Adam's desk was the first place I wanted to cry but couldn't in New York.
Adam's sublet was the first apartment I rearranged in New York.
Adam's sublet was the first place I wished I had a television in New York.
My zipper was the first thing to break in New York.
The 19th was the first time I didn't care that I was in New York.
Fort Greene was the first place I went jogging in New York.
H_NGM_N was the first journal to accept my poems in New York.
“Kafka on the Shore” was the first book I finished in New York.
Nate was the my first visitor in New York.

The train rolls by the tram. I'm laying in the grass of the ever so popular Dolores park. "I see her walking down the street and just feel like she doesn't belong." A young guy with an orange beard and no shirt gets stoned just up the hill and makes a phone call. Yesterday, same spot, I watched a different young guy with a beard get stoned and make a phone call. What's with this place? Eventually I relent and give into the plot, the sun attacks my back and the voices and grasses. Swimming changes music into deep exhales or cubes of sleep that one brushes their foot against, waking up periodically throughout the night. It's taken me forever to realize I'm lazy, much less liberate myself from this spoiled state, a willingness to capsize the boat to meet a girl. I am thinking of breaking up with myself. After talking to Chris briefly, I spoke about the difficult semester and he said two things: nobody died (at least we have our health), and maybe you've learned something for next time. I told him about the anxiety dreams, and the fact that I'm still having them two weeks after the semester ended, of students upset and complaining about the class and then it became obvious: I put all of myself out there for the three twelve and wasn't prepared to deal with a few choice assholes. My brother tells me to "toughen up."

I smoke cigarettes because I am addicted to nicotine.
I smoke cigarettes because I have time to spare.
I smoke cigarettes because my wife is giving birth.
I smoke cigarettes because it's midterms.
I smoke cigarettes because I've been drinking.
I smoke cigarettes because I am on vacation in Italy.
I smoke cigarettes because I am a metal worker.
I smoke cigarettes on a hill in a park.
I smoke cigarettes habitually.
I smoke cigarettes because I don't know what else to do.
I smoke cigarettes to be controlled.
I smoke cigarettes because my imagination fails me.
I smoke cigarettes because I don't like to hang out in bars or cafes.
I smoke cigarettes because my wife isn't pregnant.
I smoke cigarettes because I'm single.
I smoke cigarettes because I like them.
I smoke cigarettes because my parents did and they seem alright.
I smoke cigarettes to take a break.
I smoke cigarettes because the fifties weren't that bad.
I smoke cigarettes to reward myself.
I smoke cigarettes to signal that I don't care.
I smoke cigarettes to have a reason to get out of certain situations.
I smoke cigarettes to suppress sexual desire.
I smoke cigarettes because I'm lonely.
I smoke cigarettes because it reminds me of old friends.
I smoke cigarettes because I don't have any better ideas.
I smoke cigarettes to breathe.
I smoke cigarettes to slow down.
I smoke cigarettes because I do not believe I can stop.
I smoke cigarettes because the sky is falling.
I smoke cigarettes to take care of baby.
I smoke cigarettes to rebel.
I smoke cigarettes because I think I am cold and they are hot.

The world is a tiny tiny place.

The world is a food processor.
The world is a mouse fart.
The world is a rich text document.
The world is a fine toothed comb.
The world is a mushroom.
The world is a bag of mushrooms.
The world is a gravy train.
The world is a grape fruit squeezer.
The world is a small handsaw.
The world is a busy airport.
The world is a recalcitrant chair.
The world is a jumping jack.
The world is a metaphysical conundrum.
The world is a rich text format.
The world is windows.
The world is a shelf covered in dust.
The world is a famous writer.
The world is a recent memory of a faun being birthed.
The world is a handsome beast.
The world is a muddy cup of river water.
The world is a leaf.
The world is a deep pond.
The world is a gravity bong.
The world is shameless.
The world is sadness.
The world is suffering.
The world is a greatest hits album.
The world is a recent acquisition.
The world is a greasy spoon.
The world is a western civilization.
The world is an industrial coal mine.
The world is a treatment program, in and out.
The world is barely old enough.
The world is a shopping cart filled with cans being taken to the
recycling center.
The world is a busy beaver.
The world is a soft and fuzzy place.
The world is an axe handle.
The world is a model.
The world is an ingenious invention.
The world is a can of peas.
The world is an oily fish.
The world is a list of things to do.
The world is a recent history deleted.
The world is a tuna fish sandwich toasted, and with cheese.
The world is overpriced but of good quality.
The world is a ham fisted soliloquy.
The world is a radioactive hamster.
The world is a mutant star.
The world is a returnable and reusable ink cartridge.
The world is Ellise coming to pick up the table.
The world is a quick conversation with your roommate.
The world is an apology.
The world is a wedding announcement.
The world is an unreadable penmanship.
The world is an expert marksman.
The world is a shaky arrow.
The world is a nameless hay bale.
The world is a really upscale laundry mat.
The world is a wire mesh box filled with bees.
The world in a minute a mess of fruit flies.
The world is for fruit flies too.
The world is a warm beach clogged with jelly fish.
The world is a reasonably priced four door sedan with a "moon roof."
The world is ice cream.
The world is your entire crew.
etc.