It is a time of freedom and fear, of Gaia and of borders, of many paths and the widening of
a universal toll road, emptying country and swelling cities, of the public bought into
privacy and the privacy of the public sold into invisible data banks and knowing
algorithms. It is the time of the warrior's peace and the miser's charity, when the
planting of a seed is an act of conscientious objection.
These are the times when maps fade and direction is lost. Forwards is backwards now, so we glance sideways at the strange lands through which we are all passing, knowing for certain only that our destination has disappeared. We are unready to meet these times, but we proceed nonetheless, adapting as we wander, reshaping the Earth with every tread. Behind us we have left the old times, the standard times, the high times. Welcome to the irregular times. Today, Howard Dean sent me a card in the mail. It is a membership card. How sweet! I am a member of Howard Dean. You could say I am Howard Dean's member. If this is a mass mailing, there must be tens of thousands of Howard Dean's members out there. Think about it: Howard Dean has tens of thousands of members. And you thought Bill Clinton was a problem? Imagine a man in the Oval Office with tens of thousands of members! This explains why most of his photos are head shots. Seriously, the small contribution I have given to Howard Dean has now been outweighed by the expense of mailing me membership cards, invitations to celebrate his birthday, and whatnot. In net terms, I have given Dean a negative donation. Wonderful. ![]() ![]() ![]() |