Mumble Herder

I was going to let the previous post stand as my only entry on MLK day, but I think this dovetails with Reverend King's concerns; not because it has to do with blackness, but because it has to do with racial hatred, with poverty, and with democracy.

Leaflets calling for ethnic killings mysteriously appeared before the voting . . .

The U.S. envoy says the vote was rigged, but either party could have been involved. Tens of thousands of Kikuyus are fleeing the violence, which is estimated to have taken nearly 500 lives and left 250,000 homeless. The NY Times has a very depressing slideshow of the devastation wrought by the violence. Odinga had called for more rallies, but now is apparently backing off of that until Ghanain president and AU chair John Kufuor arrives to mediate the conflict.

Kibaki speaks. The suggestion to seek redress for an election possibly rigged by corruption in the courts, which are presumably just as vulnerable to corruption, seems rather disingenuous. At least there's a call for an end to the violence; I saw a report earlier that Odinga had done the same, but I can't find it now. Unfortunately not everyone seems to be listening. Things have calmed down a bit in the past couple of days, but it's not over. From the article: "On Wednesday night, residents of a usually quiet town in the Rift Valley said that a mob of Maasai killed four Kikuyu shopkeepers and then looted their stores."

It's gotten worse, and may continue to do so. Kibaki, the incumbent, has been declared the winner. 94 people are dead so far in the rioting. Live television coverage has been suspended. International observers are saying that Kibaki's totals have been inflated, and members of the country's election commission have seen irregularities. "In some areas, more people voted for the president than there were registered voters," is a telling quote.

There was a dude outside the CTA station handing out energy drinks this morning. I shouldn't have taken one. I'm way too hyper to be at the office. (In case you're curious about MONSTER:KHAOS ENERGY JUICE, it tastes like carbonated, sweetened orange juice and may cause you to sing Beatles songs in stairwells. I expect to start twitching any moment now.)

Last night Chris Elliott and Hugh Jackman were on Letterman, and Paul Schaffer's musical cues were . . . interesting. When Chris Elliott came out (with Gerard Mulligan, who also used to write for the shows and makes frequent appearances as everyone from Oprah to Brad Pitt), the band played a Police song. I knew it was a Police song, but it wasn't until after they did their bit--a pre-taped spoof on "Ghost Hunters" which was pretty funny--that I placed it as "Spirits in the Material World." (Hence the title of this post.) So, fairly clever. At least, I thought so until they played Hugh Jackman out, to the tune of Prince's "Jack U Off." Jackman even gave the band an extra look, as if to say, "Yeah, that's my song." It was a beautiful moment.

So I've been thinking about whether to do a Thanksgiving post. I have lots of things to be grateful for, particularly lately. Friends, good things on the writing front, the potential for political change. I'm thankful for those things, and if you're reading this I am thankful for you, specifically.

But I'm not sanguine with the universe. Our country is still fucking with other countries in unacceptable ways, and the best solutions our military minds can come up with come out of a football playbook. New Orleans is still in ruins, corruption is rampant, and I can't turn on my TV without being told about Tom Cruise or O.J. or Paris fucking Hilton. Not to mention how afraid everyone wants me to be, whether it's of people who pray but are not Christians or of terrorists in Congress. Hey, fearmongers? Fuck you. Go be afraid on your own time. I've got a life to live.

The election itself is not a change. It opens the door for changes, but it could also just mean a whole lot of the Same Old Crap. So while I'm thankful for the good things I have, I'm a greedy bastard. I want better, from our leaders and our citizens and myself. I know the posts here have been pretty shiny happy lately, but I reserve the right to be pissed off. Just to let you know, Universe.

I would also really like my uncle back. Tomorrow is going to be rather bittersweet.

Warren Ellis sums up voting. It does kind of feel like that sometimes, doesn't it? Even so. Go do it. And keep an eye out. If the electronic polling thingy laughs maniacally after you exit the booth, tell someone.

This weekend was WFC, and I am not yet recovered. A few years back I spent a couple of summer weeks in Bergen, Norway, when the sun only went down for a few hours a night. I was chock full of solar energy and I didn't see much need to sleep. Cons are like that, down to the coming home and falling into an OMG-I-can't-believe-I-haven't-SLEPT coma. What that means, see, is that y'all are the sun.

I met new people, got to know others better, and got some quality time with "old" friends. (It's bizarre to me that I've known most of these people for three years or less.) If you were there, I miss you already; if you weren't, I miss you still.

There are many names I could mention, and if I were a better person I would, but one individual had, without any doubt, the largest impact on my weekend. I'm speaking, of course, of the angry goose who chased me around the pond behind the hotel on Thursday morning. Well played, Sir. Until we meet again!

I have pictures, but I haven't uploaded them yet. I got my hands on a whole mess o' books (I brought the big suitcase this time), including Polyphony 6 (which contains my slacker-who-talks-to-dead-presidents story "Manifest Destiny") and Flytrap 6 (which contains my rock-star-terrified-of-success-gets-some-homemade-rehab story "Grandma Charlie and the Wolves"). Check them out.

Now I am back at the office. Lame!