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I couldn’t sleep again last night.

I am sorry I woke you up when I called.

It's just that sometimes when I haven’t talked to you for a few days, a few weeks, I get to thinking - It is a bit twisted I know, and very sad - but when I haven’t heard from you in a while, I start thinking, no, I start believing that you have died and everyone forgot to tell me.

I have images of you in my mind covered with cold blood. Your blood. Your body is twisted and the hood is wrapped right around the tree. Shattered glass sparkles like diamonds and your blood shines like rubies in the headlights of police cars.

I have images of blackened skin and the ashes of the poems you wrote. My eyes water from the smoke that wasn’t there, making it hard to distinguish the red fire truck from the red embers of your house in the red morning light.

I can see your family grieving. They are not thinking about me. My phone number is lost among your things.

I am sorry I woke you up when I called. I just needed affirmation.

Well, it has been a long time since I had the time and patience to sit down and distribute my thoughts around e2 (not that anybody reads this anyway) and share a little insight into my (digital) life.

The acquisition of Suse 9.1 was a total success! My partner is extremely happy with the distribution and, as a monocultural Windows user, has instantly found a liking to KDE 3.2's intuitive GUI, OpenOffice's modus operandi and the gazillions of little things that make Linux such a pleasure (lack of dialers, virii, trojans, worms and other Microsoft specific little annoyances). The whole thing is pretty secure, with the wireless network (ok, that's a security risk, but our wifi signal barely makes a transmission outside the house, so that's ok) and the main workstation (which has ssh/telnet/ftp disabled) sitting behind a US-Robotics firewall. The G4 Ibook, running OpenBSD and OS X (depending on wether I need wireless or not) is pretty safe anyway, so the only real security problems at present would be ultra-rare Linux virii, or maybe a site able to hijack Konqueror (or Safari).

Or someone could break into our little cottage and take the computers, but again, this is rural New Zealand and pretty unlikely.

We have started to write a 30 minute documentary on British medical graduates leaving the NHS and are planning a set of interviews with some british expatriates working in New Zealand, to characterise the difference between the two countries and healthservices. Recorded, produced and edited on the Ibook, we will offer this to a set of radio stations and publish it on the the public radio exchange, for the global radio community to help itsself.

Who knows, a little side career in broadcasting might just be what I need to diversify and make life more interesting.

I love the way things look when they’re caught in the brights of your headlights. It’s like a never-ending photograph. I wished more things looked like that. Frozen, just glancing back at you forever in the cool twilight of the evening. I think bright headlights go well with the vivid colors of dusk. It's as if someone decided to spike the worlds water supply to have everyone experience the surrealness of change between waking and rest, sunlight and starry eyed darkness. When I drive through conditions like this it’s usually with all of the windows down. I listen to the rustle of the grass swooshing past my car. I think more people should do this.

Today I sat down on the pavement in front of a local coffee shop and watched a derelict interact with a young man 4-6 years old. I call him a man because no one else there including myself had the nerve to ask why anyone should be afraid of the spies. God bless that man. As a well-dressed man took the shaking raving man in for some coffee and I decided to steal his bench. A young couple thwarted my efforts but we sat ass to ass ear to ear on a tiny bench drinking hot tea and reading “The Stranger”. We didn’t speak at all. Not one word. I always thought being that close to people automatically initiated conversation. I guess not. The women on the bench smelled like heaven. I thought about what the rest of her smelled like and wondered how open and monogamous her relationship was. If I see her again I’m not even going to say hello, I’m just going to inhale her.

Got ordained officially today. I’ve absolved the sins of nine random people today. Performed the burial rites for the dead cat that’s been sitting on the side of my street for four days. It’s hard to perform burial rites for creatures you don’t know. I wonder if the cat was ever loved or if it had a mean streak. Did it have family it was leaving behind? What had it accomplished in life? Then I threw dirt on the body and sang some Michael Jackson “Hold Me, like the river Jorden...".

Over a smart cocktail later on tonight a friend asked me what my kinks were. I’d never thought about it until she asked. I’m not really sure. I should probably get one because from what I hear they’re really in vogue now. Maybe something exotic like macro-insertion or electro-stimulation. But then again I get tingly when things smell right or when the light in the sky seems to spell out my name. I’m probably in love with the heavens.

The political news keeps getting weirder and weirder.

We have the Right doing everything but physically attacking Kerry and Edwards as they make an open trip across the country, yet I have yet to hear an intelligent rebuttal to the points the Democratic team is making about national security, foreign relations, or the "war" on terror. However, in order to attend a rally for the current (P)resident, one almost has to submit to a background invesigation. Recently, a couple was arrested (charges later dropped) for wearing anti-Bush T-shirts at a Bush event.

If a President lies about sex, it's a federal crime. If a President lies about national security and gets us into a war, that's fine.

If the Democrats have a Senate candidate that comes from a state other than the one she is running in, she's a carpetbagging whore. If the Repugnicans bring in a pandering (considering why only blacks were considered is an excercise in cynicism) candidate from out-of-state, they are doing what is best for the country.

If you call a Democrat who is President a criminal, declare yourhate openly, and forsake everything in a hot-blooded push to impeach him for a matter that has nothing to do with national security, you are being a good American. If you point out the real and factual errors, fabrications, and outright incompetence of our current (P)resident, you are a traitorous dog that must be shot (and that's the mildest thing I've heard said.)

The Right constantly shows itself to be a bunch of pandering hypocrites more concerned with preserving power, concentrating money in the pockets of their cronies, and doing what ever it takes to stay in a position to continue to do so at all costs. It turns my stomach.

I saw a book on a shelf in a store today that made me very angry for two reasons.

First of all, it was a book on Wicca, and it was shelved under 'humor/pop culture/gift books'. Please explain to me why paganism is humorous, poppy, or a regular subject of gifts. I was stiffly reminded that this society still sees Wicca as a fad, as something 'fun' to do when you're bored, rather than as an actual religion.

Secondly, it was called A Wiccan Bible. Um. Excuse me. Bible? The entire point of Wicca is that there is no sacrament, that each person may practice as he or she sees fit. The basic principles are the same, but there is no holy writ. That an author would be so pompous as to declare that their version of Wicca is the definitive one makes me seethe with fury.

I don't understand why such a book was published or put on display in the pop culture section. You would hope that individual people fully comprehend the religion they choose to practice. That is apparently not the case.

Well its been a hell of a summer so far... Just to catch you all up I last worked in January. Then In March I traveled to Thailand and Loas for 50 days. I returned to Germany on April 21 to collect unemploymnet money. Then in June, on the 8th my son came to Europe from Louisville, Kentucky to travel with me to Italy and Spain. By this time I had moved out of a room after having my cameras stolen out of it by who I suspect was my roomate and was now couch surfing at my friends house ( a condition I still find myself in when Im in Germany). So Quinn and I spent 10 days traveling from Venice to Rome via Ravenna and had an up and down time.


When we reuturned to Germany my son went to spend some time with his grnadfather on June 22 (my ex´s father who lives on a US army base here and works for the military). Well Things didn´t go as expected, my son decided he would rather remain with Grandpa and so he ended up staying in Germany instead of coming with me to Spain. I went to Spain alone and depressed about the situation on June 29th. I spent 10 days in Andalucia visiting Gibralter, Cadiz, Granada and a town where the ferries come in from and set off for Morocco. This is where I met Claire. We hit it off right away and began a love affair. We spent two short days together in Spain before I had to return to Germany to see my son off back to America. I arrived back in Germany on July 8th and spent two more topsy turvy days with Quinn. On July 10th he flew from Frankfurt back to Chicago alone to be picked up by my father at Ohare.


I had rented a room from a friend for 3 weeks and had a list arm´s length of things to do like check in with the unemployment office (to make sure the cash keeps flowin), do my German tax return, get some photos ready for the Phish shows in Vermont. I got a bunch done, moved my stuff from Frankfurt where it was stored in a basement to Wiesbaden, packed it all up to go back to America. Spent a week in town doing stuff, visiting friends and then on July 18th I was on tour again. First to Frankfurt to see David Murray and the Gwo Kai Masters and then the next day off to Karlsruhe to catch Tortoise and the John Scofield Trio on consecutive nights. After the second show at 2am I caught a ride from a German ride board that took me to Holland to see Claire. I arrived in Amsterdam early in the morning on July 21st. Spent the next five days there.


Then back to Germany for another marathon round of shit... moving out of the Wiesbaden flat. Mailing 50 kilos of shit of mine back to Merica, dealing with ebay auctions, etc. etc. etc. Then last Tuesday I was off again (this time on the 7-hour bus via Brusses and Antwerpen) to Amsterdam. Now it´s early in the morning of Monday the 9th of August.I left her side to drive back to Germany this afternoon so I could mail a portion of my bootleg concert Cd collection away to people who bought it from me on ebay. Tomorrow I´m off to the post office and to have lunch with friends in wiesbaden. I´m working with at the end of the month at a festival called Folklore im Garten. Im going to have lunch at an Afghanis restaurant. I´ll be working for them selling stuff from Afhghanistan at the festival where they will also be catering, like they have been for the last 16 years. Then On Tuesday, August 10th, I have an 8 am flight (be at the airport at 6) to NYC to meet up with Walter and QXZ so we can all go to see the last three Phish shows together in New Jersey and Vermont (August 12, 14, 15).


Then on August 18th I´m flying back to Germany. I have to be in Amsterdam during the day of the 19th in order to meet Claire and go to the Lowlands festival together and then spend another week together. Then back again to Germany (hopefully to really wrap up all my business here) on August 26th to be here for the Folklore festival on the 27th throught the 29th. Then on the 31st I´m flying to Adagir, Morocco for three weeks. After that back to Germany on Spet 21 and then.... then .... then .... finally off to see Claire again in Amsterdam for a few weeks and then sometime before Halloween fly back to Chicago.


So how does it all sum up? Stick around Chicago for a few months and then I´m moving to Louisville to live in 2005 nearby my son. What happens with me and Claire...? Don´t know yet. Already talking about me going to Amsterdam for X-mas and New Years. Then She would come to America for summer tour with the Dead in 2005. Then maybe with the proceeds from that and the sales of the 50 kilograms of trade goods I shiped back to my mom´s house from Thailand (1000 euro investment with an expected return of 6 or 7 to 0ne) - plus the furthur shopping I´ll be doing in Morocco... then, and only if we´re really lucky and have maintained this thing for that long over such wide distances and gaps of time, then, I think we might head back to Thailand and do some real shopping (500 kilograms or more) and then open a shop somewhere, either Chicago ro Luisville. Not really sure, can´t see THAT far ahead. Just want to catch my plane, just want some sleep, good thing I brought the Power Plant with me from Amsterdam...


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