Night Train Express carried me through the evening to awaken with a head feeling as empty as if my brain had been removed bit by bit with a melon scoop until my skull was protecting nothing but space and some left over bits of red and gray stringy goo. "I love that stuff," that's great, Axl, then you'd also love grain alcohol cut with grape slurpee syrup. "I can never get enough," well, that's great too. Me, I fell well short of never getting enough after a bottle and a half. "Never to return." That's simply a bald scrotumed lie. You return with a head full of killer African bees and a stomach full of skunk assholes. Unlike Axl, I learned.

After an evening on the night train I had to go to the airport to retrieve Kirsten from the aeroplane. Her flight arived on time and all is well. Well, all is well with us, aside from being unemployed, but all is not well. Sometimes I get too caught up in this fantasy of literature, film and scholasticism. the airport is a good place to get snapped back to the realization that the human race really is mostly disposable. Meanwhile great minds or seemingly great minds try to find ways to live better lives and save these insignificant wretches. We go to bars and discuss Socialism, and Marxism and how they could help relieve classism and racism even though they can't and if we had a Marxist government we'd be scheming for the capitalist democracies' revolt. Free health care isn't going to save anyone bred to eat shit. At least I don't see the difference between shit and the McD's burgers and greasy fries, leaving their marks on the pages of the Tom Clancy novels being flipped by the hands that stuff the faces. Reading shit, eating shit, and what's playing through those headphones? Listening to shit. If it's not Tom Clancy it's some newspaper, not being read, but flipped through. USA today's sport sections are perused while magazines are held up in front of faces and the page never turns, frozen for forty minutes. They're reading the entertainment calender for a city they are leaving. They are on cell phones saying things like, "Some clients can be so pissy," or "Coming in under cost with those guys is never a possibility but at least they're laid back." The laptop, an indispensable tool for the modern business man is being used to play free cell. What are they doing? Waiting to go. Waiting for others to come. Stering into space. Trying to impose Krishna on me. I see an Afro-American with the isignia of the Mason's on his blue ball cap. Next to him is an aenemic bleached blonde looking like over two-thirds of her life is dedicated to preparing to leave the house. More McDonald's is being chewed. Starbuck's coffee is being drank. A deaf/mute sells glittery stickers of Disney characters at 1 to 2 bucks a pop in order to support his family.
Would a change in government change all this? By now it is too late. The people, they like this. Those sorry shits love it. They work for it. They fucking work to buy that burger, that Limp Biskit, that Tom Clancy and they love it. There's no g.d. way that is going to change. Right? Okay?
"Well, nothing is going to change with that attitude, Mr. Ellis."
Bullshit and fuck you! One person will make a difference the day she puts her finger to a sigle button and blows 99/100^ths of this world's surface away to Jesus. And don't be fooled, that won't change anything as long as there is one liar to fuck one good woman and pass on his gene's of deceit. Socialism won't be worth a goat's mummified testicles to a man dying of thirst as long as the masses remain untouched and unchanged. It's an old French proverb that goes "Those who do not do politics will be done in by politics," and most people don't do politics and most people are already done in and some of them know it and of those who know it, most don't care.

I guess it is safe to say the airport had no small affect on me. I'm not angry. Why should I be? The earth shook S.F. to the ground '06. Pompeii was buried by the earth. Thera fucked the Minoans. A cow burned down Chicago. A boiled over kettle of glue left Seattle in ash. Nature doesn't give two shits or even a single shit about what we do when or where and the laws of physics will eventually take us all out. Yes, even the few good ones like yourself. I'll hate to see us go. Just us. Not so much the rest. Besides, you're reding this right now, and not Tom Clancy.

Note: By the time I finished this, Kirsten had become employed. Next