But Jaws could be in The Gulf, no?

As quintessential to Texas as Lonestar Beer, barbecue, and Willie Nelson's Fourth of July picnic, swimming holes are vital to surviving the region's endless, sweltering summers. Carolyn Tracy and co-author preface.

Against better judgment, I fully charged this ailing bucket of a dirty chair, and got it down to 3 hours and a quarter, bemused by some journalist's deliberate poke about sharks not swimming in Houston, and no, I am not tweeting it. Houston is trending enough and the Guv Abbott will feed the coffers well into next year: gave him three exclamation points and decided to donate here. It shall not be much, offered with whimsy, perhaps. I'd land in Dallas and undoubtedly eat lead in the dark at the hands of the hardened sociopaths who can read the little snuff of my soul clinging to the wick, or maybe not. Remember Elton's parody on Caribou? Ai yi yippie yi ay, local color ever diminishing because Eric McCormack put his nose in for ASPCA rescue. There were a few moments in his face against Hirt's rejection of him right before Dove's S1 climax which were reminiscent, pulling the wire taut. Rejection makes life hard enough, but one little interstitial injury to brain plasticity, and life as a primate outcast, grasping rudimentary twigs. I don't know how Hawking copes, even though I do, he sublimates it to teaching us why particle covalence is such a difficult configuration outside of functional equations.

Evacuation on the wind

"To most observers, my grandfather had been as elated to hear of Japan's decision to surrender as had the next man." John McCain's Faith of My Fathers

Mmm. Reiteration of the fact that I do not submit a great deal of my work to small press journals anymore. I have three pages of contributor copies of small press journals, mostly stashed in my closet shelf with the other journals in which I do not appear. From the time I began my post renovation recovery in 2008, through today, I have written nearly a thousand blog posts, had one non fiction essay accepted in a special Appalachian issue which I need to dig out of kitchen drawer, and fewer friendly rejections than I used to receive. People who do litzines are basically leftists who make fun of creative inanity for the most part. Intimate with the culture, I'm nonetheless no longer a fresh voice,

Like Charles Krauthammer. It may surprise you to learn I do not often agree with political conservatives on much of what they espouse. Homosexuality is more of a moral issue on which I've soured because of my past intimacy with homosexuals and my own insecurity about women who indulge in lewd pleasuring making passes at me. If this ever happens to me again I will attempt to kill the woman who does it, and I'll stand trial claiming self defense-- but I will engage the liberal censure of auto erotic threat postures another day. Trauma doesn't make these issues less complex-- and I cannot deny a voyeuristic examination of gay sexuality. Recovered enough that I can separate curiosity from what would make me happy-- and a happy embattled spastic flea bitten poet-- that is a tall order.

What interests me about the aging, uptight psychiatrist, and the fresher Texan AG is their successful refusal to allow paraplegia to define them. I am interested in the silences, as it is obvious to my viewers that cerebral palsy is still a badge which I assert, though I could be fraudulent. None of you know for sure. The poet Robert Thomas, his wife Cheryl, whom I have psychologically adopted as the female friend I might have had if I did not have to flee for the bus with a thieving Jehovah's Witness who only furthered my convictions about race and black theology, they know. It is interesting that two white moderately progressive writers met me at read promotions, and with knowledge of my intemperate sins between them, one cut me. The other sends me his collections. I occasionally do the same, but, god forbid if I had their telephone number. Cheryl might then buy my former supervisor a decent civilian attorney. I could talk God out of Judgement Day given half the chance. Griot as an insulating shield. Griot as an outcry, a need. 

Perhaps Kathleen Parker's name recognition would not heighten my profile as much as Jennifer Rubin's would, but Jennifer is not yet quite Parker. She's savvier and actually the type of conservative female a better metamorphosis might have molded me into; when Rubin is on she is as sharp as a tack. My foreign policy is more ruthless, more frightening, hopefully not sentiments that would gain Mossad's attention. The state of Israel is a failure and its eventual dissolution is inevitable. More stable powers need to declare certain territories as ungovernable and turn them into protectorates until issues of autonomy can be resolved. This includes Pakistan, North Korea, Israel, Iraq, Yemen, Somalia, Sudan (why does South and North Sudan exist?) Libya, Chad, Haiti, the San Dominican Republic, Syria, unfortunately. We all have lists. 

Ciao, the mark of Hood

"The world is broken."-- David Tennant

I haven't had much to say about immigration, partly due to historical knowledge of what the United States has done in South America, the consequences of which is being outdone by feet on the ground, or over run, and I have mixed sentiments about lack of mobility, given that conflicted collegiate  emotions essentially resulted in a form of imprisonment I never intended, but this uptick of Guatemalan children has ended what I was considering as a serious fugue flight to the Lone Star state. I was going to email Greg Abbott. Expecting what? I'll never find out now. I am miserable, and have very little respect for Philadelphia as a modern African outpost, not quite as badly governed as Nigeria, but these are the devils I know, and I doubtlessly will not lose my head to a machete even if I may have to defend myself, and die, fighting off more inner city behaviors in the future-- this means I am not confident of my long term commitment with Karina, earning enough to be able to keep her, but at a significant arms length.

Why I really did this to myself, beneath my youthful turbulence, must amount to an astonishing level of self-hatred. My ex, in his way, offered the supposition that my heart was broken, and youthful obstinacy over rode rational objection in my short but adamant return to city of domicile, but it was a violent disruption I've obviously regretted. I can't really say that staying in Delaware County would have enabled a full recovery from previous domestic trauma, however. If I do manage a last relocation, this time I had better get it right.

I did not test the company on access to my financials, not yet. Hopelessness, because even if I agitate and win a victory or two, I still lose, just as I do laboring for Examiner. I am not angry at Clarity Media. I knew it was a spam market when I linked them to my online writing sample, but no matter what I do, I can't climb out of the hole to hell I've dug.