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April 1, 1997, Tuesday

Now I say: I want to pet every precious infant I see. The future smells good. yeah right

My friends are, by and large, rather extreme in their prescriptions, and it is a good thing that few of them have the necessary initiative to carry through on their evil fantasies.
The other day a good friend (who shall remain anonymous) was reading my musings and responded venomously to news of Jenfariello's avoidance of me on the evening of March 28th. It seemed this friend thought that Jen's behaviour warranted all manner of violence and disfigurement. My story had apparently struck a raw nerve. My friends are, by and large, rather extreme in their prescriptions, and it is a good thing that few of them have the necessary initiative to carry through on their evil fantasies. But I would like to take this opportunity to say that I am not mad at Jenfariello in the least. In fact, I find her attitude towards freedom (both hers and mine) to be a breath of fresh air in this dungeon of what at times can amount to social imprisonment. So I responded to my venomous friend with an email that started with the following paragraph:

im not upset with jen fariello. in a way its better that she keep walking if she doesnt want to talk to me. thats what i did to her today...but at least i said hi. jen has a relatively mature view of my need to do things besides spend time with her.

The email also included this somewhat revealing paragraph:

i like being fixed to this town. i like the sense of community developing around me. but i dont like the lack of freedom imposed by friends always wanting me to be with them. i hate the idea of girlfriends for the same reason (i liked the sex part just fine, if it didnt happen too often--its one of the few fun things two people can do together sober).


I woke up at around 2pm and went to Café Europa and ordered a large pasta salad, then went outside and sat under the immaculate blue sky and basked in the warmth of the sun. As cold as it was yesterday, I had feared that today I'd be chilled simply walking down the streets of Charlottesville. But in front of Café Europa I was comfortable with just a teeshirt covering my torso. It is April after all. I have a right to expect warm weather.

Some of the people who stop to talk to me are complete strangers; people I have met at parties while hopelessly intoxicated or people who have heard a lot about me and have had me pointed out to them from a distance.
I felt somewhat exposed sitting on the side of University Avenue in the full glare of the clearest skies possible in the Post-Industrial Age. I'm well known in this town, and whenever I am in a public place I have to acknowledge people at a steady rate, either driving by in cars or walking by on foot. Some of the people who stop to talk to me are complete strangers; people I have met at parties while hopelessly intoxicated or people who have heard a lot about me and have had me pointed out to them from a distance. One raver guy named "Pear" stopped to thank me for my crazy outfit at Saturday's rave. I had been dressed very conventionally that night, but I accepted his thanks all the same.

Then came Deidre. She ordered Chicken Souvlaki and then came out and sat with me. It was the first time we'd seen each other since Saturday night's odd little "dream." She seemed apprehensive that I'd taken offense. I assured her that I hadn't in the least, that in fact it had made the evening more memorable. Deidre proceeded to read me her horoscope in the latest issue of the C-ville. She's a Taurus:

The evidence pouring in is growing more puzzling by the hour. I sense you're on the verge of a rather spectacular befuddlement. In light of this, I believe it'll be unwise- indeed, impossible- for you to make decisions using tried and true formulas. You may even have to come up with approaches so novel that they seem cracked to the casual observer. That's why I feel confident in leaving you with this gem from the Taurus zen master, former baseball player Yogi Berra: "When you come to a fork in the road, take it."

from Real Astrology by Rob Brezny ©April 1, 1997 (emphasis mine).

She went on to quiz me about some of my strange behaviour Saturday night, why I "don't date," and other things. For some reason I found her interest flattering. Most of my answers to such questions were variations on the plea of "I have no social skills." In other words, that I'm a loser. As arrogant as I usually am, humility is becoming on me.


It's not just the guitar but also the drumming in Dinosaur Junior that reminds me of Neil Young. It's wonderfully derivative at times.
For those who haven't seen it yet, I've put up a "Clone Applewhite Now" web page to feed the paranoia wave sweeping the web in the wake of the Heaven's Gate lemmingfest. Ceej had some interesting stuff to say about the mainstream media's using shameless exploitation of the mass suicide to feed the anti-Internet sentiment that infects the minds of the stupidatzi in this nation. The anti-Web/control-the-Web mentality goes something like:

Anyone can, at very little expense, create a professional-looking website that spreads harmful misinformation to the masses. In the old days, the kook had to use primitive equipment and anyone could tell from his grainy creations that he was a kook. Now, with the economical publishing available via the Web, the mainstream media, which gives the real information, is indistinguishable from the kook. Something must be done! Perhaps web designers should be made to buy expensive licenses. Perhaps their content should be tightly regulated.
In truth, though, any fool can see that the Heaven's Gate web site is nothing but schmaltzy garbage. One need only look at the page entitled "How a Member of the Kingdom of Heaven Might Appear."HA HA HA HA HA HA HA Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha he he ha ha he he he ha ha ha he ha he he he he he he = = = = = = = - - . . . . ... If I can make valid points, form intelligent sentences and master HTML, I should be able to tell the world whatever the hell I want to. If I don't make any sense and can't form a coherent sentence, I won't have an audience for anyone to worry about. I doubt anyone this nation really has any use for actually discovered Heaven's Gate on the Web.

The only thing that bothered me about Ceej's entry was that she failed to provide me any juicy links to sites that fan the flames of the fire in which the Web is to be burned. I have found this interesting article at www.news.com though.

I'm thinking about creating a satirical "Nike® Implicated in Cult Suicides" site that draws a connection between photos of the sneaker-shod-cult-members and the crazy ideas that once flowed through their neural networks.


Ideally of course I try to breathe a sense of place and essential spirit into these musings. That is the writing style I employ.

I head some direction down Wertland
in order to change scene.
I encounter some dilemma along the way,
usually at Dead Man's Curve.
But I spare you the usual pattern today.
I've been avoiding Wertland Street of late.
There are too many pedestrians that I know
walking down that street.
If I walk on Main Street,
most of the people I know are safely in moving cars
and can be avoided.
I want to be a hermit
who can take brief adventures
into the social world.
Today I felt very awkward socially.
Every little social grace that I felt compelled to make
seemed so forced and trite.
I heard myself talking pleasantries
to the teenage hippie capitalist girls
under the 14th Street C&O Bridge
and I winced.
Then I winced again on reflection
of how stupid I'd been.
The thing is, I know they don't care.
That's what they expect of me
and everyone else they know.

And it's not that I'm depressed. I was happy today. I just need to change some things in my life. I think I have the power and opportunity to do so.


Elizabeth's car was inspected by the insurance adjuster today. I joked to Ches that he'd say "It really doesn't look too bad." The verdict: more than 2000 dollars worth of damage. The car is totalled. Elizabeth is upset at the likelihood that the insurance guy will rip her off, and that her Daddy will buy her an overly expensive replacement, dashing plans of European travel. Still, she seemed happy. She's been providing good energy lately, if you'll excuse my misuse of that particular noun.

I watched teevee for any news I could get of the wacky Heaven's Gate cult. And the Simpsons had me laughing so hard I started suffering from asthma-like symptoms.

I cleaned my room, sort of. It was the most housekeeping I'd done in months. The Spring provides an opportunity for rebirth. It's time for some Astrological New Year's Resolutions.

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