From Chaos to Order and Back Again.

The weekends are slow in the blogesphere, which is why I took most of it off. I hope no one minded. :) Do not count me in as one of the ecstatic faux kewl people going on about the return of "The Cube". I really don't care and didn't miss it a bit. The only good thing I have to say about it is that it came back clean. Germo-phobe that I am this made my day. I love that I can come home late - after a long day of classes and vague wanderings on the streets of the city - rest for a couple of hours ,eat, scroll around the computer and then voila it's midnight..... the night has just begun. It was pretty dark in the haven for below the street people, the happy hour started at 12:30 AM; the food was free and they didn't break your arm if you didn't purchase a drink. Friday night they had added free sushi/sashimi, most of the people were diving into the free dead bird wings with hot sauce so I did not feel like a common criminal taking three helpings of the fishy stuff. I am running still so I need the fuel. Dead fish indeed, but only recently dead fish; at least I hope...that is what they tell me. I believe them because I am starving, going to eat it anyway, and I want to believe that what I put into my mouth is not long dead (only the newly dead for me). I am; after all, not a hyena. I was wearing black boots, but they were not shiny. I don't know why this came to mind except that the women sitting next to me in the bar had black boots on as well only they sparkled, and when the light caught them they shimmered and startled me. I pointed the shininess of the boots out to one of the people I was with and mentioned that I wished my boots were shiny.( you say stupid stuff like that late at night in bars ) He said " you're not a shiny person your boots should be muted". I found this strange and wanted to ask if I was a subtle , shattery person but didn't want to go there so I shoved some raw tuna in my mouth to prevent that very question. It was my third piece and it sort of stuck there for a time before taking it's turn down the great esopageal slide, and for a moment death by sashimi ran past a few brain cells and was gone. I must have still looked like I had the shiny boot question on my mind because he said," look at it this way some people have to add the shine and some people don't". Who knows what he really meant but I choose to take it well and move on; Saturday morning at almost two is not the time for pensive pouting or compliment fishing. Also taking into consideration that the woman with the shimmering, glistening boots of black was starting to talk of recherche things and I knew it was time to move on. News and such brings disappointment and attacks of rapid breathing and finger twisting: Bless John Murtha: Fuck the Republicans in Congress for playing a nasty little political game. This is not a game of chess as much as you all seem to think it is. I know that supposedly we are going from chaos to order, but looking at it all I think they may have been right the first time, and we are truly paradise corrupted by sin and the world we know may someday disappear, eaten away by entropy. If in the flight toward order destruction occurs, and if we are flying toward order.... is any destruction preventable? Is the destruction of men by other men forgivable ,and just part of the flight toward an ordered universe? The hopes that the world may someday free itself from savagery, that the picking order will be less likely to provoke homicidal, genocidal and tyranical tendencies are fading. Will there ever be cultures "competing without carnage"? From chaos to order from order to chaos you tell me? My Play list for the night: Sexual Healing - Ben Harper Sexual Healing - Marvin Gaye Sexual Healing - bunch of friends Bell and Sebastian - Still in Love Elvis Costello - Accidents Will Happen Three tenors - Rigoletto Act Three- La Donna E Mobile Wooden Heart - Tom Petty Refugee - Tom Petty I Hope That I get Old Before I Die - They Might be Giants Diamonds and Rust - Joan Baez Tell Me So - Bikini Kill It Ain't Me Babe- Bob Dylan A Night Like This � The Cure This week ends early and I am not sure how much I will be around. Could be quite a bit could be not at all. The answer eludes me at this moment. Family and friends will congregate to commence a six week tradtion of sloth, gluttony, and consumerism that will not end until the New Year slaps us down. This I despise while still loving the sloths, gluttons and the consumers of which sadly... I am one.