Let justice be done though the heavens fall

Some news.

David Leventhal is engaged. Hey-O!

Bob is now my roommate.

It is Christmas Eve.

Accepting submissions for the next Astro Train.

I'm particularly offended by girls and this proposition: "If neither of us are married in ten years we should get married." Aiyo, how come no less than eight girls have said that to me? It is not RAD to be a back-up plan (not to mention a fake back-up plan!). What the hell people, what the hell?

You are not the cosmos!

I wish it was warmer. I could go on more night walks. Cold hands and frosty breath is great and all, but I want people to SEE what band I'm repping on my shirt. You feel me?

On a related note: the reason I do not update this is because the written word is particularly irritating to me right now. I haven't written anything decent in so long, and what ends up happening is me talking about how I don't like to walk around in the cold. So asinine it hurts to look at. I feel I owe you, as dear friends, to not waste your time with that kind of shit. It's at this point I mention the hilarious irony of Saad Hariri visiting Bashar al-Asad in Damascus, thereby demonstrating my knowledge of things beyond drinking Whiksey Sours. It is also right after that point, that you roll your eyes at such a feeble attempt at actual commentary on an actual issue or event. I feel like that used to be my calling card. Outraged, unhelpful commentary maybe, but man, I kind of gave a fuck at one point in time. I swear to GOD mang, I am just tooooo tired to watch CNN anymore. All I really want to do is listen to Propagahndi and Jason Molina over and over again. A simple life. A simple proud life, lived well, by a dude. Sometimes the ties that bind are strained, AM I RIGHT?

I'm going to start working on a "novel" soon, and this blog will become excerpts of said novel, analysis on the NBA season, or just more rehashes of a criminally insecure member of the blogosphere. I'm attempting a Richard III comic book adaptation with Bridget. I want to start a black metal band called God Wills It.

The Crass Posse is alive and strong. Strong in the way of something that's been ripped to shreds but still is functional and mad like a demon.

Elizabeth is about to have a baby.

The point is, life is decent, and not nearly as stupid as these posts make it seem.

My top vacation spots:

1) Iran
2) England (Bosworth Field, muthafuckka)
3) Spain
4) Japan
5) Lebanon
6) Australia
7) Norway
8) Vietnam
9) Egypt
10) Russia


Oh. I had a pretty neat movie experience the other night. I was texting Erin about burning me this hilarious 8-bit trance-y type CD. And I said something to her that I didn't realize was true but when I read those words I was like, holy fucking shit, that is so true. A kind of reclamation of the narrative of the who-what-and why I am. I tell you this in bad faith, you will not see the boy in me die, I'm in this game of nutters and complete nutters for the long haul. Thank you for your friendship and for your patience and for your insanity to be reading these (awesome!) rants! The reason it is ironic is because Bashar probably killed Saad's dad! On the other hand, this could be an example of a ruthless peacemaker. We should get into that, right? It's actually not that, I just wanted to introduce a thread that I'll return to eventually. The ruthless peacemaker. Something I'd be fine with on my tombstone.

I feel some seismic shift shit on the horizon, but I'm ready for that, cause I got my clan in the front, and there's no peace in destiny, just motherfucking destiny! 2010 is our year guys, lets take this one by the horns. I hope I appropriately mixed the vague with the concrete and I won't re-read this in five minutes and think I'm insane. Actually, I do hope that will happen.

I remain,

The guy covered in tattoos of Qur'anic verses and hadith

baqiyyatu l-sayfi anmaa `adadan my brothers.