the beat goes on

are you still there? it's been awhile. i'm finally on-line since fleeing the u s of a last thursday. my still brand-spanking new laptop endured a wee injury on the campaign trail and mending it has been, well, um, an aggrevating experience. good christ i can't believe how fucking dependent we've all become on internet access. without it, even for a few days, i wound up in some kind of helen keller fog, trying to re-invent portals of access to the outside world or just avoiding it altogether.

speaking of fog, i've been ensconced in one since returning. i'm not sure how to feel. i'm not sure where i'm supposed to be. the fog, aka the bubble, is a common affliction upon post travel re-entry, but usually after trans-continental excursions and culture shock. i was only in fucking madison, but somehow it feels like i'm negotiating a return from uranus.

like too many others, i'm still bewildered by the loss. i didn't go down there thinking we had it in the bag. but i didn't think we'd lose. the results continue to roll around my brain like an aimless pinball. i've been moving randomly through the five stages: denial/isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. it's like we're all a part of one big collective grieving process. i go through them back and forth, no particular rhyme or reason. the really wacky times are when i experience the stages all at one time, occasions which have resulted in ugly rounds of chain smoking and a seven hour series of cosmos (thanks cm).

there's been so much to read and hear in the post-game wrap up. and a game it was. a riveting match that saw the parties as teams, the media as announcers, the pollsters as play-by-play analysts. the 2004 political olympiad - a global sporting event indeed, except no one but the us team got to play.

everyone's an expert and everyone's got an opinion. some of the blather validates my blues, some tickles me, but most of it just makes me feel nauseous. are we doomed? at least we can hope for a rush of new friends up here. if your level of discomfort in bush's land of the so-called free is such that you're thinking of getting the hell outta there, consider north. i mean, c'mon, we've even got a cannibus bill in play.

i am proud to say that many people, including michael moore here, have taken notice of the inspiring showing of young progressive voters in this election, thanks in part to groups like the one i kicked it with.

i'm so glad i met the people i did, if only to reinforce that america is only half full of dumb americans. this site launches pictoral apologies, not bombs, to the rest of the planet.

i miss my new friends. i miss the adrenaline. most of all, i miss the ever-present excitement of change in the making. i miss the sense of possibility.