Adults are not above taking naps. Grown-ups are. 

another quickie:
I shouldn't have to tell you, perhaps again, to bookmark Dumm Comics or make it your home page. It has the potential to hold the key to human happiness itself. You should be notified: Happiness is a choice. Go: Progress!
-wp.

The song Honey Can I Count On You by Ian Thomas is so, so very darling to my heart right now. 

I don't care if this is real or not. It's awesome. So is this marvellous use of scrap- and a marvellous use of time.

So newly inspired and freshly ground & pressed more please, I've been designing even stranger motorcycles and other vehicles for my story the Raw Deal. It's actually quite difficult to create a purely visceral, mechanical, believable machine that looks like it could tackle the wide Martian frontier; much less ones that look like they could be used in battle. The two-wheeled sort end up looking like 50s and 60s scramblers. The character Hari (the evil one) uses something that could only be related to a '55 Motoguzzi V8 with big damn machine guns.

Has anyone else seen this Highland DirtTrac? It's quite neat. They seem to have no presence in America. I would very much like to import them and rebadge them Jasta to fund the Eleven as a flagship.

I really should get around to buying a ukelele. I haven't posted any of my poetry in what seems like years, so here shoots it- a friend drunkenly requested that I write him some country songs; so I did, back in February or so. It ended up sounding like Aeschylus trying to sing like Johnny Cash after reading George Herriman for like four hours. Doesn't really work like country, americana or even really niche folk(far too complex and long-winded), but I'm working on it. I'm fairly satisfied with the result; each was written to a momentary melody that slipped out my ear when I was done.

1. (an ode to my daughter's adoration of her mother.)
She could scarce believe her thin brown ears
when she saw her queen
Mommy on a winged Brough steed
With silver threading to retrieve

"Why's Mommy up to golden heights,
Wrung Apollo's neck this morn?
Shooting lightning bolts from her two black colts
Diana's-rings-adorned?"

"Why's Mommy's guidance to never fail,
is by her beauty the sun led?
Onward to her praise I'll wail,
Her rice & ale to keep me fed!"

2. (inspired to a degree by my father's trials.)
Lil ainjil dreamed she kissed me,
lil ainjil draw your best--
pursuit of that which crosses y'most
in supine dawn manifest
 
Lil Ainjil I dreamed you kissed me
Lil Ainjil I ran 'em down
everything soon plain like daytime
breaks once denied now get found
 
Lil Ainjil swathed in ermine
Lil Ainjil wrapped in mink
like Richard the lime hearted's polar fate,
crowned, but soon to abdicate.
 
Lil Ainjil, I dreamed you're with me
Lil Ainjil o'er the winds o'the north
bear the burden of your benevolence
on this widower by the sea;
for tonight I am a widower
in this cottage by the sea.

3. (to the vernacular of krazy kat.)
Goddamn scoundrel, I'll wager you're untruthing me;
chasing that poor wooden palace like your own
there's spots in that bastard, yet
sure somethin ails me;
his contrary-free-spirit ether doth slow me down.
unfettered unbound I'm stating facts-
mark my words, roaming the world unfeathered,
golly golly golly it hurts.

I guess if that's more inclined to Aeschylus- the thought occured to me last night over two pints of pine belt pale- I'd really like to work on a Schiller motif. I am probably the only person that reads his work and thinks "That is country as fuck." While we're on him, I may well mention that his method of exaltation is everything about what we need in all medium of modern art. Celebration and exaltation are themes that are, interestingly enough in a frivolous culture, almost never explored. The idea of joy seems foreign and nigh-on fictional to the modern's mind. It is intriguing- I've been able to process the thought more since digesting the art bible that it isn't just the romantic school that's missing, but any projection of any ideal. I think the closest thing to in popular music is the rampant and almost welcome self-glorification in rap.

It is immoral in such an era as ours to demand a thriving, explosive exaltation, that defies measure or capacity.

The first thing one can easily observe is the lack of principles, or actual statements in art. Which is shocking in principle but worthy of the prevailing mindset- isn't it more common to think that one shouldn't have strong personal beliefs, as that may exclude others' sets of values, that you may appear competitive with them, to be so bold as to want to develop superior values to others? If you hold what you believe in your heart-of-pointy-hearts are superior values to others, well, you've righ'well damned yourself. Snob.

No. So as we see, the whim is the only principle served(I am mostly discussing the visual arts here). And when purpose is a goal(how sick that it is the exception) it never serves to project some...anything definite, proud, good, positive. I wonder what goal it is to provide "poignancy" or indirect, undefined "deepness." And for the love of God no one can describe to me what the cotton-picking hell is so fucking great about Basquiat. All of the above are only brief summarizations about my thoughts on the subject. I am only now realizing there are no answers for merely questioning the post-modern directive...for it is not a directive at all. Perhaps I am so confused with the postmodern mindset beacuse I am not concerned with death. I am not concerned with flaws or somehow necessary moral ambiguity. I am concerned with life and I am concerned with virtue.

And you know, I am beginning to think I am unhappy.
-will.
"Jesus said the meek would inherit the earth, but so far all we've gotten is Minnesota and North Dakota." -Garrison Keillor

"Tu ne cede malis sed contra audentior ito..."
"Do not give in to evil, but proceed ever-more boldly against it..."
Aeneid Book VI; Virgil

What sucks the most about discussion in the current political climate is that it is dominated by the left. As such, the left (which is a sketchy, amorphous definition in itself) has dominated what it means to have an opinion on politics; so if you don't subscribe to the leftist position, you're automatically and without consideration a right-winger, or a republican, or even conservative. This mode of thought even dominates the 'right', as well, as up to recently I considered myself 'conservative'.

 Now, there's a growing number of people who, disillusioned with our two-party system, don't consider themselves "Red or Blue, but Purple." This seems like it would make sense, but it's bullshit, beacuse there's no way they don't side with either. Hell, I side a little with both, but putting yourself out as politically undefined only points out your own ignorance or your own unwillingness to succumb to perfectly reasonable categorization. For instance, I've realized that I'm not a conservative at all, only scarcely by the modern definition. Really, I'm a pre-1930 liberal; a classic liberal. (I would still consider myself an across-the-board libertarian, if 78% of them weren't a bunch of god damned freaks.)

Really, in modern terms, it's the democrats, the modern "liberals", are really the more conservative. Liberals believe in the liberty of the individual, in that personal freedom. It's the modern liberal that believes in imposing their values; and sickly the modern conservative that generally wants to let live. How did this happen? Who banned Huckleberry Finn from school libraries in the early 90s beacuse it used the word 'nigger'? Who believes Bugs Bunny teaches violence beacuse he punches his enemies, or teaches kids to smoke beacuse he smokes the odd cigar? Who spearheaded the digital censorship of cigarettes and 'implied smoking' from old cartoons because it might teach kids to smoke? Who pushed Imus off the radio? This is not liberalism. This is imposing of values. This rails against the individual. How are we more conservative and less tolerant today than we were in the 1950s?

A perfect example of this is in California, where recently gay marriage was, through judges, legalized. Why is this an outrage? Why should it be opposed? On the principle of the definition of marraige? No- it should be opposed beacuse the people of California voted against it. Any level-headed federalist American should realize that even if you stand for something on principle, if it goes to a public statewide vote and the Americans, the Californians that live there vote against it, they've spoken. The judges legalized it anyway. Would I have been in that booth, I would have proudly voted for gay marriage- but this is an outrage how the judges intepret their job as public servants. Is it our job to tell the judges the law? What age is this? 

The feel-good liberal language of today's left can obscure what they mean. I like Obama, I think he's the best Democrat in years to come across the line and he rightfully has defeated the corruption of the Clintons- but he is not above misnomers and lies. For instance the call to an end to special interests. He's not going to end special interests, or even weaken their overall influence; but chase some out to favor his own. There is nothing wrong with that, at all, McCain favors his own special interests and calls for an end to others. Same goes for a call to unity- "That is the unity – the hard-earned unity – that we need right now. It is that effort, and that determination, that can transform blind optimism into hope – the hope to imagine, and work for, and fight for what seemed impossible before." This is fine as a statement in itself and I believe that he believes it. But insofar as his calls to break down party walls, that's bullshit. Calls for unity are always extremely dangerous. Beacuse what are you asking for? You want everyone to unify, but you don't want them to unify behind what they believe. You want them to unify behind your own values. Again there's nothing wrong with that! I want people to hold the same values as me, I think the world would be a better place for it, that's why they're my values. But don't say we should all band together as one without first defining exactly what we're banding together to do. Equality over unity. Clarity over agreement.

Let's take a step to the side here to ask: what is the leftist sentiment against profit? Why is 'profiteer' such a bad word? Isn't profit the point of good business? What does anyone gain by a higher capital gains tax? Are corporations autonomous machines only concerned with their own amoeba-like growth, or are they providers for product for hundreds of millions of people as well as employers to possibly hundreds of thousands? Look, I hate big business as much as anyone else with a soul, but trying to attack them by discouraging them to make a profit...I don't see the purpose, especially if you're trying to run a country with the biggest economy in the world. If Toyota or Honda was based in America, their profit margins and lean-production innovations would be considered an affront to the masses and they would be stopped immediately. How to confront most evil corporations? Let me give you an example. I hate Toyota on principle and hate even riding in their cars. I would rather walk than own one. I hate Lexus so much I think it's almost grounds for nuking that island again before they do anymore widespread destruction on the aesthetic mentality and preservation of all man-kind. But should the state intervene, any state, anywhere? No. Not at all. Never. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. (CAFE 2020 standards are different.) The market is a democracy in which every penny gives a right to vote. Laissez-faire capitalism is the only moral economic and to some extent, political system mankind has yet devised.

At the same time, they want to feed the dog that they kick. In ten years, they've given 1.7 Trillion Dollars to the domestic farm industry alone. Obama has pledged $150 Billion in corporate welfare to Ford, GM and Chrysler to do what they're doing anyway. What message is this? "We believe in your right to be competitive with foreign markets and run your businesses to the best of your ability, as long as you stay on our teat." I'm sure there's a joke about 'the green teat' I'm missing. It would be really funny.

Fuck Keynes and the socialist horse he rode in on. 

All of your political positions come down to one question: what you believe, according to your values, what is the role of the state?
-wp.
P.S. There is only one book you must read on the subject of economics.

[Error: close lj-embed tag without open tag]</font></div>I love Jim Henson as much as I love the sun.

Dear Bratstyle:

Stop making me fall in love all over again.

Thank you for your inconsideration,
-wp.

PS all you bastards go to The Loft in the Woodlands tonight. Friend of the house is putting on a show for Hydrate Hope.

Dennis Prager keeps re-instating reasons why he is one of the most prominent thinkers in America today. He regularly gives speeches all about the place: keep watch to see if he lands near you. It is well worth it. Though, one piece of advice- if the lecture's at a synagogue, I might suggest bringing a yarmulke. You might end up being one lonely gentile in a crowd of about 900 jews with an unadorned cranium.

Awkward. Very awkward.
-wp.

Soon I shall purchase something small, ugly, and living. I will name it Junta and I will destroy it with my own brutality. To wit: savages.

Stop slumping- set yourself aright. We are going to discuss creation.

There is an oft-repeated phrase in science- nature's perfect predator, that isn't often far off the mark, as widely applied as it is; but is always none-the-less incorrect. Immediately as I state just that, no doubt you have a specific creature in mind that embodies the role of the perfect predator. Most likely it is the shark: consuming, machine, fearless, sleepless, roving, empty and purposeful, fearsome embodiment of authority of the senses, communal and solitary; peerless in the oceans and ever-moving forward less it dies. However, I disagree with the application of perfect. The shark does not inspire anything but fear; and the awe it brings is fearsome. One does not get a feeling of selection, dignified selection from the shark, but merely of eating. It as opportunistic as the eagle. Thoughtless.

There is the Giant & Colossal squid- my beloved cephalopods, yes- but they are preyed upon by sperm whales. Whales are obviously in constant communion with God so that is out.

But what of the hawk, the falcon? The Peregrine falcon is the fastest animal on earth, and one of the most intelligent birds. They are patient, unbelievably fast, uniquely agile and definitively perceptive. They inspire majesty and deserve due majestic regard. Again, the Peregrine is intelligent and hardy enough to exist anywhere on earth, which it does, almost entirely non-migratory. Its swiftness and manuvering are nigh-incomparable in design to anything living, yet it is able to carry and eat an animal nearly as large as itself. Despite the stunning role of the falcon in creation, it is not the perfect predator- it is not atop the food chain. Yet, the unthinkable; it is preyed upon by another- a bird.

That is the Owl. The owl inspires awe like no other living creature. Once, I was walking into the upper sanctum if you will of the ruins of Sea-A-Rama, a decrepit and enchantic former amusement park in Galveston(now departed). It was daytime, the sun shining into the center cylinder, previously an enormous aquarium, thirty-five feet in diameter, whose ceiling had cracked apart and away with the weather. The feint blue of all the walls reflected onto the overgrowth, rust rot and beauty of the concrete dining room surrounding. Entering, I peered into the aquarium and saw part of the upper wall, opposite me, fell away and sprouted wings- pure white, singular and enormous, it floated through one of the porthole windows to spread its broad porcelain arms over my head, flying but a foot over my head in eerie silence and nary a flap; and out of the entranceway I had walked in through. 

It was a goddamned barn owl. Its presence lasted, perhaps five seconds. Its wings spanned six feet tip to tip, but if you had asked me at the time it would have been twelve feet, fourteen, eighteen, sixty. Maybe we just disturbed its nest by drawing relatively near? They say you can only remember something, that memory does not function to recall nothing, but I remember the void of sound and anything when it appeared. There was maybe ambient noise of flies, crickets, the ocean less than two hundred yards away, but as soon as it took from its nest all creation seemed to have made a small, reverent, momentary bow to let the god damn thing pass. Of course, I could relate the tension and awe to the terse silence of outer space in 2001. The simple explanation is that many owls have on their feathers tiny serrations to be completely silent in flight; that is akin to saying the exaltation one feels when reading Schiller aloud comes from a thin layer of fabric and nerves in your eardrum.

There is something about owls that is intangible that makes them such a chord...no, no, I must say that literally. Some birds recall playing of a harp, fiddle or mandolin; the owl only deep, single,  sudden and reverberating chords by the bass end of an attentive orchestra. Something small and physically harmless to us, like burrowing owls, even summon the dance of a furious viola. 

Their eyes are to half of cultures a dead stare, the other half of civilization gets enchanted by something emotional and still contemplative, giving watching humans the sense of their own wisdom. It is the perfect example of the empowering nature of awe. The eyes are always mounted in front of the head, flat and watching. The owl only needs look at what it directs its head towards. The entire animal is filled with intention. It is a creature of pointed dignity; solidarity. It is mysterious, individual and self-sufficient. The owl is proud and attentive. It does not float in the sky to hunt over acres like the hawk, it remains in the trees, hollows, canopies of dark and selects in patience. The Lord provides for owls and the owl provides for itself. Alert.

Gorgeous.

Yes: the perfect predator.
-will. 

 In Emerson's English Traits, frankly a must-read for any individualistic capitalist American that sees 19th century British civilization as the epoch of human achievement, he mentions the theme of gospel teaching in the Anglican church in the 19th century was "by taste are ye saved." Oh God, I'm even more British than I thought!

To come: Owls.
-wp.

One of my absolute favorite blogs is Uncle Eddie's Theory Corner. It really is, and I mean this required reading for anyone who thinks the internet to have worth. 

As my father can tell you, I hate Jane Eyre. I also hate video blogs, people talking into a webcam about their unqualified emotional opinions. Eddie did a video blog on Jane Eyre and I love it. Carve out ten minutes of your day to revel in it.
 

...is unprecedented in modern humanitarian relief efforts," Risley said. "It's astonishing." 

Jesus.

"None of the 10 visa applications submitted by the WFP have been approved."
-wp.

What about a Vera Wang Mk.II?  This is stupid and I'm sure I'd couldn't stand actually talking to the artist itself, but I must admit to finding this kitcschy cool if not just for the Pac-Man grenades. And, looking it all over, I'd say the Paul Smith selection is bullshit- plainly, if Mr. Smith prefers Bonnevilles, surely, he would choose a PPK/S.

will.

I get down when I hear such stories as this or this, being frustrated that we should still have such troubles and hinderances in the 49% disappointing future that we live in. But take heart: for every story about that stupid fucking ignorant bullshit there's something that is truly worthy of our weighty age. 

So go on; turn that frown upside down.
-wp.

Quick up-to-date in order, I suppose- so here- the chief event(if it can be singled out as an occurance, roughly) is that last we spoke I was married and now I am not. That is all there is to be said on it, the first person that says "I'm sorry" to the split regarding gets either shot or at-once-and-forever cut from contact, according to the tides of my principled whim.

I now manage a coffee shop in Conroe. Come by, drink my coffee, eat a Hill Country Salad and tell me how great it is.

In other news, intellectually I have become more dedicated to weeding out my whims in exchange for an embrace of principled reason. I have learned and brought out of fuzzy abstract the responsibility of wanting something, really wanting something. Artistically I have gotten more defined in what I just feel my taste is, but what I have rationed out art is and needs. In popular language, I have learned, this is being a snob. In my case, more of a snob. At least now I can explain what and why. What is now stronger than ever the Eleven, and the why is because art needs it. 

Okie-dokie. New regular reads: Lester and the CATO Institute and Reason Magazine and Dumm Comics. Lester has great commentary, CATO and Reason has imminent news for anyone concerned with liberty and justice and Dumm is simply the best thing to come along in the history of human beings- starring one of my favorite artists, Katie Rice at her best! I want to make a Skadi movie. Who wouldn't want to read a cartoony comic called 1930 Nightmare Theatre?

Can't stop listening to Caitlin Rose. If you can stop listening to her, or even slow down, you are clearly not human; I wish her voice was a girl so I could date it. Forget Cassettes, The National, Kate Nash, Tsaichovsky, U2's Joshua Tree and the Groceries also figure largely in frequent listening-- Fill yourself with sound.

Watching lately MST3k, Zatoichi, Russian Ark and anything John Ford. My new dwelling, name of Substrada, is empty so I must fill it with aesthetically satiating things. Speaking of which, Kevin sent me a seven foot B&W print of the McLaren F1 LM. It is one of my most prized possessions and I muse on it for hours. I feel that all that gaze on the image will have a vantage point from which to view the brimming horizons of their own personal achievement. As such, I have pinned it as a banner above all my artwork in the living room. I say this beacuse I bid anyone reading to come to Substrada and absorb it. 

Having put 111,114 miles on my Beetle I have begun thought as to what will succeed it. This morning over a black-eye I thought which three vehicles I would most prefer for daily abuse that could be within reach: Instantly three came to mind with seemingly nothing else my imagination could then manage to summon. And thankfully, parts of me will always remain blessedly irrational.

I think it would be good if we all read more.

Well if anyone wants me, I'll be in my basement room.
-will. 

 I return to livejournalling.
-wp.

WASHINGTON, Dec. 8 — In July 2000, Hillary Clinton stood on a stage at the University of Arkansas and struggled to keep her composure. Her voice was unusually soft that day, her words seemingly unfiltered.

Hush, everyone, gather near!

“Whenever you have trouble coping, just think of Snow White,” one note said. “She had to live with seven men.”

The crowd laughed when Mrs. Clinton read that at the memorial service, and she smiled along. Her eyes stayed dry, another triumph of her self-possession. Still, her face was puffy and her jaw slightly clenched, as if any breach of emotion could start a deluge.

Friends and others say that Mrs. Clinton’s wariness has been buttressed by the years of scrutiny and ego-mangling she has endured.

It's almost as if she lives a life in the public eye in top-level politics of the most powerful nation in the world.

She has seemingly spent much of her waking life weathering public storms, each known by shorthand: Gennifer, Paula, Monica, Cookies and Teas, Travelgate, Filegate, Pardongate, Troopergate, Whitewater, Cattle Futures, Impeachment. Among other things, she has also been accused of having a grating voice and bad taste in clothes. “She’s been attacked every day for the last 15 years,” said Jim Blair, Diane Blair’s husband. “What else are they going to say or find about her?”

Dorothy Rodham, who had survived a harsh childhood, pushed her own three children to stand up for themselves. In one oft-told story, Mrs. Rodham encouraged Hillary — then 4 — to “hit back” against a bullying neighbor.

“She later told me she watched from behind the curtain as I squared my shoulders and marched across the street,” Mrs. Clinton wrote in her memoir, “Living History.” “I returned a few minutes later, glowing with victory.”

I know I've said something to the effect of limiting my usage of the cop-out of just posting a Youtube video as an entry...but here I am. Love the song, love the video. Enjoy. But wait! there's more- if you'd like to know what it's like in my head, all the time, just watch the following and maybe add a Stratos or DS.


I liken the Mini to the McLaren F1- the Mini was designed to be one man's vision of the family car, but dominated rallies of the sixties. Gordon Murray's F1 was designed to be the ultimate road car, but led a 1-2-4 overall victory of Le Mans. Yes, you can be certain there was lots of oggling turkys last night.

We have our tree up now! Juliette was happy to help us put it up, and Rye's design worked out splendidly- Looks fantastic! Alright, after that little booster of morning Mininess, now off to expresso, Mass at St. Anthony's and depositing my absurdly tiny check.

Democracynow!, fine bastion of pacifist, liberal activist punditry, today did an hourlong interview with Lou Dobbs of all people. He's like the Stay-Puft Mashmallow man of right-wing outrage and the interview is well worth either downloading the mp3 or watching the video stream- Democracynow is a classy operation and I like listening to it any morning I can. Dobbs is a total douchebag that believes in the farcical North American Union, but he holds his calm quite admirably in the face of countering, emotive liberals(that have a point). Oh, and I've yet to get to it, but they also had Greenspan on, and I love Alan so this should be very interesting.

This is nice- I've thought about it and I am pretty sure I support this just like I supported the Dubai ports deal. Why? Business is business, they're still subject to our laws, and this corporate bailout by private investors is exactly what should happen as opposed to corporate welfare by the government.

Sweet Gloria Swanson! I just checked ffffound and there were not, in fact, any oiled breasts. Instead I find this.
Which is fucking hilarious. Any creative use of Venn diagrams is encouraged.
-wp.

Gorgeous. This is a Christmas light installation designed by w+k and sponsored by Nokia. It's really quite clever, renews the whole idea of Christmas lights and makes me want to forgo a Christmas tree next year just to make one of these. New Years' Resolution 2008: figure out the black art of electricity and create things with it.

In Pierce fam news, we got a Christmas tree! and Juliette was thrilled to see the pony & cart show at Market Street. It was a good day. In worldly news, MINI USA has the Clubman up so you should go explore it and build one. I've always been for Pepper White, but the Hot Chocolate color is so alluring! Build one and send it to me. I can't wait to drive one and see if it holds a candle to the magnificent GTI V.

Oh dear, I may have found my favorite track- look at this MG Midget (tuned 1098!) run it in a vintage race.
It's called Knutstorp and is in the Netherlands, I think. Just look at this richoldwhite man drive his Dino 206 there.
This video would be much better if he weren't driving cautiously like a cat with wet paws. Just push the car, fat man! But it does look like heaven, with lots of dreamy on- and off-camber uphill and downhill turns, negative-g dips, unnumerable chances for on-limit pulsing-three-quarter-throttle corner-exit oversteer flourishes.
-wp.

Again, the ASIFA proves itself among the absolute best websites. Explore it and give them all your money! I have a folder called "cartoons" in my collective archive of material on my computer that comprises all my art interests. 70% or so comes from the ASIFA for a reason! What a marvellous thing it is. I'd bundle this up and send it to my family and friends in an email, but I've done that like three times now when they have a really good new entry on something like Milt Gross and I'm sure they're sick of it.

Sexy CB750 Cafe for sale now- I notice when I get in a drawing rut, I look at 70s japanese motorcycles(and 70s Ducati scramblers) on ebay. Save me!
-wp.

Looking for payday loans?

OH BOLLOCKS
-wp.

In light of my previous post on principles of politics, I was really surprised and delighted to find this. (You can watch it, don't worry, it's short.)

Something to check out: "Slow Painting", essentially a daily newsblog bringing up contemplative art items from around the world. Also, New At Politics, a great libertarian blog by my friend Jeff's government professor.

The gorgeous Citroen Ami 8 Break is pending to join the short list of cars I have to own before I die, on great design basis alone. Also: for fans of design, of the graphic or automobile sort, these 2CV brochures are a can't-miss. Do check it out!
-wp.

Checking my RSSes this evening, I have two unrelated blogs that have done a "five airplanes" entry, so I can assume it's some sort of trend(there's also one with five favorite cars, but holy shit, I can do three maybe, but if it's five there's no way). Very well, as I have an appreciation for a few of the damn things I must put in my five cents. In no particular order:

1. P40 Warhawk/Flying Tiger

This was my first favorite plane, partially due to my childhood obsession with tigers. When he saw that I expressed an interest in the particular airplane, my father bought me a published diary of a Flying Tigers pilot. The story of a small, underdog, volunteer fighter pilot corps in China kicking the Japanese air force's ass before we had a major presence there captivated me. If there's any story that summates the 'romance of war' to a little boy, to me, it's the Flying Tigers: The underdog good guys beat up the unstoppable bad guys. On top of that, the aircraft itself looks military, rugged, muscular, rigid and bad ass. Fun fact: the flying tigers logo was designed by Walt Disney's team.


2. P39 Airacobra

Any little boy that tells you his reason for liking the Airacobra is anything other than there's a stonking machine gun in the middle of the nose, he's lying. It's not known for its combat performance, but in an aesthetic appreciation for the thing I love the juxtaposition of a very lithe-looking, small aircraft that busts tanks and takes out trains rather than dancing around in the sky has my adoration. It is one of the only objects of the WW2 era that competes(and loses, but still competes) looks-wise with the deservedly iconic Spitfire. The Soviets had some great pilots that loved it to great effect, and I think the Americans had an ace that flew one and said he loved flying it because of 'how it felt'. When I was a wee one, as I mentioned I was before, I remember reading how the cockpit smelled like gasoline and cordite, had a mid-mounted 1,200hp V12 and had doors like a car. Growing up and falling in love with the tactile feel of materials and select machines, I've returned to an appreciation for that contradiction in most beautiful form, the P-39 Airacobra. It makes me happy there were thousands in existence at one time. (oh, and great name too.)

3. P38 Lightning

When my dad was a kid(and he was born in 1943), this was his favorite. It looks very strange, has six to eight .50 cals in the nose, was incredibly agile and nothing is quite like it. It just looks like it's alive, flying and incredibly fast in whatever picture is taken of it. Plus, when the revolutionary, frightening and beautiful Messerschmitt ME262 showed up, the P38 destroyed it. My dad is quick to point out this fact whenever the P38 pops up into a conversation, which with us, it does. What else is there to say? There is no replacement for the artful P38.

Great character design! ---^

4. Horton Furflugels

Not any particular model, but these flying wings are easily the most elegant aircraft ever produced. I am going to start an army on mars and they will fly 10,000 Nurflugels. Fun fact: almost all are flown in the prone position, that is to say, lying down head-forward. Apparently the pilot essentially wears the cockpit.

V. CONCORDE
"A reminder that we all can do extraordinary things."

What's your favorite five?
-wp.

Afterword: Honorable mentions are my first jet love, the F16; my longtime fascination and favorite in-service aircraft the A-10 Warthog; the impeccable, one Submarine Spitfire; and the beautiful DC3.

This is a warning, to the root of the word, to spark awareness.

I have been growing more and more political, it seems by the day, and my youthful hunger for all sides of intellectual discussion has become not only more vigorous but more self-aware. In the last few months I have gone from libertarian to being able to define in detail why I am libertarian, from being a fan of individuality to being able to understand why supporting the Individual is the only moral path, and being able to determine, at least in concept, the dangers of clinging to party over principle.

I have a daily routine now. During the morning at work I listen to the local publically-funded Pacifica station, 90.1 KPFT, and in it Amy Goodman's Democracy Now show. It's abooouut as liberal as you can get. Then midday to afternoon I listen to republican talk radio. It gives me a good spread and good head on what's going on. It's intere fascinating to hear two sides discuss the same event. For instance, most Republican(called so because they are plainly not straight conservatives) talk hosts have no problem with torture while 90.1 obviously abhors it. Of course 90.1 is the more socialist of the two, but is the most proud of the individual socially. Republicans on the AM talk box on the other hand are fiscally conservative but are more proud of generalization socially. It's a fascinating juxtaposition and I've started to discern the failings of each side- mostly by being able to determine they are not sides at all, and making a tremendous deal about Right Versus The Left is not only a mistake but completely ludicrous.

It's an easy enough mistake to make, the media makes their jobs easier by making up definitions to divide people into neat groups and the mentality is repeated enough to become makeshift reality. Less liberal pundits blaming the Bush administration for everything, and moreso Republican radio hosts sourcing everything to what The Liberals Have Done To Us, beacuse it is We that are under attack by Them. From what I can tell some of the seams of the costume are showing when people are afraid to define Ron Paul- for conservatives and republicans he is very love-or-hate. In today's neo-conservative saturated atmosphere, his view of the limitations on the state(called 'anti-government' by the myrmidons) and a non-interventionist foreign policy sound ultra-liberal to some neocons. After all, many of the same views, albeit a bit more exaggerated, are held by the very liberal Dennis Kucinich.

Interesting side fact: the number one google search related to that latter candidate is "Kucinich Wife". True story.

If I have learned one great fact of the current political climate it is this: Grown-ups and their collectivism have stained the frames of thought in this country very badly. There are two kinds of grown men and women: Adults and Grown-ups. Adults are what you're supposed to be, it's what we're all trying to become as a mature human being. Grown-ups are what you hated when you were a kid about adults, that's why you didn't use the word adult. Grown-ups love classification, generalization, and definitions. They love the end, but not the means. They love justification and hate tribute. They see their own irrationality as perfectly fine if they can define it as rational.

If I have told you these details about the asteroid, and made a note of its number for you, it is on account of the grown-ups and their ways. When you tell them that you have made a new friend, they never ask you any questions about essential matters. They never say to you, "What does his voice sound like? What games does he love best? Does he collect butterflies?" Instead, they demand: "How old is he? How many brothers has he? How much does he weigh? How much money does his father make?" Only from these figures do they think they have learned anything about him.

If you were to say to the grown-ups: "I saw a beautiful house made of rosy brick, with geraniums in the windows and doves on the roof," they would not be able to get any idea of that house at all. You would have to say to them: "I saw a house that cost $20,000." Then they would exclaim: "Oh, what a pretty house that is!"

Another thing about grown-ups: They hate principle. Take Rush Limbaugh for example- he will defend the Republican party and the Bush administration no matter what atrocities they administer to us and the world beacuse he's picked his side, it isn't the Democrats, it isn't the conservatives, it's the Republicans, and they're right as Right goddammit. Everything that goes wrong is beacuse of those goddamn America-hating liberals, those goddamn libs are taking their master plan to ruin everything great about this nation and everything you hold dea