Killing Civilians

I'm relying on shame to force me to post something here every few days. Because having my name attached to a blog is vital to my career as an artist. No one will take me seriously if there isn't a forum for them to wander by and express their gratitude and admiration. Of course, right now, nobody's wandering by, and nobody's reading this, which makes each one of these words so worthwhile.

So today I'll give any future readers who scroll this far down in the archives a bit of old-fashioned Sufi wisdom:

A hidden treasure, where did I hide it--
Why did I give it to the hypocrites to guard?
You, in the headdress, with the potential
I'll be sucking marrow from the bone of justice.

I don't know how much staying power these words have beyond the upcoming election here in Portland. So future readers should not be terribly interested after all, although I have no idea how to express that to them.

This election is a classic battle between politicians. Whenever I start to talk politics, I always hear the same thing: "I don't vote anymore. My vote doesn't even count. What's one vote out of all the thousands and millions of votes that are cast? It's like my voice is meaningless." And I always have the same response: "Why are you laying this shit on me? I've got problems of my own, ASSHOLE."