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December 3, 2004

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i could be helping the homeless.
i could be teaching people how to read.
i could be doing more obviously useful
things instead of riding out my comfort
in self-indulgent "artistic" pursuits.
but, like just about everybody, i find
ways to justify my action and inaction,
surround myself with others of my class,
deny that i am in denial, & criticize the big
boys while hoping they hold the system
together because i am a son of privilege.
well, how do you like that? despite the
strength of the above thought process,
every day i find new ways of ignoring it:
a drink, a smoke, a movie rental, a book,
a newspaper, a magazine, even--rarely--TV.
anything to avoid confronting the daily
horrors that support my cushy lifestyle.
well, hell, it's a matter
of luck, isn't it? and we
all get ours in the end,
so why not insulate
youself just enough
so you can enjoy life, find some happiness?
tonight was first friday artwalk in our very
comfortable community. i showed movies
with computer and projector made in asia
by slave labor. i sold a dozen petrochemical
DVDs, including one to a fancy couple who
happened to drive by the backstreet building
i was using as a screen. it was fun. i got drunk.