Somewhere inside her parents are sleeping.
The awkward creep.
Eternities pass in inches.
Does she object, or is she merely
feeling as awkward as I do?

Two personal spaces intertwine,
our arms gently inviting
the other into this, our own domain.

And at last the meeting. Lips
crossing distances more vast than worlds,
more empty than space.
Two worlds, self-contained, meet at this single point,
intertwined for this one moment on her parents' porch.

And then she's gone. Her arms slip off my sides
and she's inside.
Safe in her parents' house.
And I'm alone, on her porch,
with the moon, and the breeze, and the taste
of her lingering on my lips.

I know that the odds of anyone with the power to truly influence this situation reading this are extremely small, but of the rest of you, I ask only this. Pay attention. Pay very close attention. We are witnessing a spectacular attempt to vindicate the philosophy that hate can be defeated with hate, violence with violence, and it can only fail.

The Gaza Strip is an area of only 146 square miles, or approximately twice the size of Washington, DC, and is home to just over 1.5 million people. This computes to a population density of around 4,270 people per square mile.

I do not find the civilian casualties of this ground war to be surprising, nor do I believe that Israel is seeking civilian casualties, but I do believe that dropping leaflets and expecting that any non-combatants will be able to immediately leave the field of engagement is thoroughly unrealistic. There simply isn’t anywhere to go.

I do understand that Hamas continues to be the party which violates truces, and that Israel feels that they will always do so. This standard too, is unrealistic. We can never guarantee that no single radical will attack Israel. Certainly, in a climate of such deprivation and such heavy civilian losses, there will be no shortage of individuals with too much anger and nothing to lose. To stop a cycle of vengeance using violence one must commit genocide, an offense against everything for which the nation of Israel stands.

Yesterday, in response to an article in the Washington Post which was fairly candid regarding Palestinian casualties, a reader wrote in to make the following point: that this situation would only be resolved when Palestinians love their children more than they hate Israel. This is not a new argument to me, but I do believe that it is a common one, and disasterously fallacious. If a person loses their family to civilian casualties of war, then their hate may be all that sustains them. If a person does not believe that they have any future, they are far easier to convince to commit a suicide bombing today.

So what would I have Israel do? For a small portion of the funds Israel spends on defense they could create in the Gaza strip two of the world’s best schools and one of the world’s best hospitals. For, again, a small portion of Israel $13.3 billion dollar defense budget, they could afford to staff and maintain these facilities at a standard many times that of the global average. The message I would send with these facilities would be this, “Your children can attend these schools free of charge, but you must defend them. You will all receive medical coverage in this hospital, but you must defend it. Do not allow these facilities to be destroyed.”

Children are educated in radical madrasas because there are no other schools available. Young men attend speeches by radical clerics because they have nothing else to do. Give these people a future, a means and education with which to confront ideology, a reason to defend the nation of Israel. I dream of a day when Palestinians have a reason to confront the radicals in their midst. When the question of, “I have lost everything, why shouldn’t I fire this rocket?” can be answered with, “because my daughter loves her teacher. Because your cousin’s wife is pregnant, and her baby deserves to be born in a modern hospital. Because we have a future to think about."

This is a war about religion, and there is one religious truth which I hold above almost all others: peace begins with you. If you wish to change the world, you must be the first, and not the last, to lower your guns. An eye for an eye can continue endlessly, until the entire world is blind.

Much love to you all,
-Jeremiah

So for those who aren’t local, the DC Metro has just instituted a system of random bag checks at Metro stations. They won’t be announced in advance, and while you have the right to refuse, if you do you will be denied access to the system. Checks will be conducted randomly at one station at a time.

Call me crazy, but this pisses me off. I’m operating under the assumption that anyone who was actually going to smuggle drugs or plant a bomb in Metro would probably do at least minimal prep-work, meaning that they’d know at least as much about this system as I do going in.

Now this is just me, but if I were carrying drugs or explosives, and cops asked to search my bag, I’d politely decline and just board the system at the next station over. As a commuter who that would make late, however, I’m simply expected to sacrifice another little piece of my right to privacy for yet another ineffective placebo-esque half-measure of security.

Living in a police-state does not make you more safe. Police states antagonize and disenfranchise civilians, who then get angry. What do angry people do when they are disenfranchised? They lash out. They express their power, any way they can. People like me write. Some people are less peaceful. Police states, the ultimate expression of draconian security, beget the very civilian terrorists they seek to eliminate.

I’m going to be conducting a little write-in campaign to let Metro know what I think of their most recent fear-based initiative. If any locals wish to join me in this, I thank you.

-Jeremiah

Current Mood: annoyed

Hello all,
Apologies for being absent for a week or so. I'm taking three graduate courses this semester, Statistics, Intro to Graduate Research, and Intro to Graduate Writing. The second two are pass/fail, and not too intensive, but I'm also working full time and taking care of my dad, and Statistics is kicking my butt. Long story short, time has lately been my most precious resource, and not because money is so astoundingly plentiful.

In better news, I reduced my office hours to 32-hrs a week (M,T,Th,F) in hopes of actually getting enough sleep in the near future, so that's a positive step.

So, yeah, since last we saw our hero:

Saturday, 10/18 - Renn Fest! I set aside pretty much the entire day for Festing, and did my best to leave super-early. After a few false starts I finally scooped up Will and headed down. We actually arrived near 11:00, so later than I'd hoped, but still pretty early, and then stayed right up until the end of the pub sing. I saw the Medieval Babes! Awesome. Very awesome. I missed their show last year, so I was absolutely not going to miss it again this year.

I was initially going with Paul the last weekend, and then Sariel and Danielle copped out a few times and wanted to go the last weekend with me, then Loopy decided to come into town for it, then Danika decided to make it a big event and posted a mass facebook invite. Long story short (as if), there ended up being a group of about 30 folks I know wandering the festival grounds. There were upwards of 5 separate groups of people with whom I particularly wanted to spend time or vice-versa, so I ended up spending a lot of the afternoon herding metaphorical cats. Have you ever tried to get three separate groups of independently-minded people, all carrying on three distinct conversations, to walk in the same direction at the same speed? There should be prizes.

Still, a fun time was had by all, and I in particular had a blast. I sang my heart out at the pub sing, and am reasonably satisfied that I've filled my Ren Fair jones for at least a month or six.

Sunday, 10/19 - Mostly working on my Statistics, though I also had a paper due for Graduate Research. I did take a break for a few hours in the afternoon and visit Girlville for a game day with C & L and a whole crowd of their peeps. I didn't stay as long as I'd have liked to (stupid grad-school), but I did have a great time. The girls themselves were fairly preoccupied with all the company, but they know charming people. ( c ; Really should have slept more than I did, but I played a video game for a few hours after dinner, rather than proofing and finishing my paper, so sleep got sacrificed to the god of procrastination. Yay.

Monday, 10/20 - Office during the day. After dinner I met Kelley up at Teaism in Dupont for linner. To be honest, had I remembered that she's vegetarian, I'd have suggested somewhere else. Teaism is great, but I'm not a fan of their veggie option. Tea was good, though. Afterwards I walked her back to her car in Adams Morgan. Glad I made the time. It's always good to catch up. ( c ;

Tuesday, 10/21 - Work. After work was homework. Paul stopped by and hung out for an hour or so in the evening, which was nice. He lives in Balt. these days, so it's a bit more of a treat when he's able to stop by and just chill for a few.

Wednesday, 10/22 - My first scheduled day off. Stayed home and did homework, mostly. I did go to a couple of job fairs and a Teach For America briefing as well. Evening was dancing. My instructor, Olga, is trying to hard-sell me on making a longer-term committment to Arthur Murray, and in particular on dancing in the showcase. I appreciate her commitment, and she really is quite sweet, but I'm not at all sure I'm going to for it. I'm loving the dancing, but time is something I really haven't got at present, and Arthur Murray is hella expensive. *sigh* At least I still have a few weeks of lessons left to think it over. I don't suppose anyone reading this is local and decent at latin dancing, are they? I really need to find a cheaper way to Mambo. And Swing. And Salsa-dance. Why did I ever stop making time for dancing again?

Thursday, 10/23 - Work. Met an old friend for drinks downtown. Didn't stay long because I was feeling poor and time-crunched. Meant to get to bed early, but instead stayed up late chatting online with a friend in Japan.

Friday, 10/24 - Work. Went to a party in VA with 'Nika, which was awesome. My demon costume keeps getting more complicated, and I've not been getting motivated to finish it. I'm going to leave the shoes for last, since they need the most work and can only be worn outside, but I still have a little bit of wiring and sewing left to do on the shades and tail. I really need to finish that thing. Anyhow, I improv'ed a ronin costume using my wakizashi, a brightly colored samurai-themed top open across the chest, a matching headband, some spiky hair, and some body paint to make me look like I'd been out in the jungle. It was last-minute, and it showed, but I was relatively pleased with the overall effect. There was dancing, and good conversation, and beer. I got home near 4 am. It was a good thing.

Saturday, 10/25 - Stayed home doing classwork. Lots of studying, working online with the group for my first big class project, lots of statistics homework, etc ...

Sunday, 10/26 - Stayed home. Statistics are evil. Did get sleep. Even took a nap in the afternoon. ( c ;

Monday, 10/27 - Work, which I'm at now. If I'd remembered how much typing I had to do this afternoon, I'd probably have donated blood later in the day. Otherwise, just grand. Busy week ahead, as I have plans pretty much every night this week. I feel like imitating a comedian I saw on The Daily Show a few weeks ago - "There's way too many parties! Why are there so many parties? The brochure said there would only be a few parties. This is WAY too many parties!"

So, um, yeah. There you have it. All the news what's fit to print. Hey, quit whining! I said it was fit to print. I made no promises about reading it. Silly people, haven't you learned better than that by now?

Stay tuned for our next thrilling episode: "A statistic too far" or "Why is that man striking his computer with that crowbar?"

All my best,
-Jeremiah

Current Mood: cheerful

I slipped, Monday. Slipped not a small way. In point of fact I smoked one puff off a friend's cigarette Sunday night. I walked to the nearest gas station Monday morning. I bummed a cigarette en route to give me time to "think about it". I bought a pack of American Spirits, the cigarette with the fewest chemical additives, actually not owned by Philip Morris. I bought heavies, when I'm used to milds, to force myself to get queasy. Which I did. I still smoked the whole pack. And another by 9 am this morning. And then I quit, again. I'm clean for all of 13 hrs. Not much, I'll own.

This much have I learned, and seek to remember: It is folly to think that cigarettes are merely nasty, and offensive, and that with time I will remember that they are horrible. No. Individually they are satisfying, and remarkably focusing, and quite pleasant. What is to remember is the trade. Better that I had not walked this path, for it is a trade not worth making. Who among us would choose to always smell bad for so small a pleasure. Who among us would choose to be kissed less fervently by the ones they love for ten moments of middling satisfaction. Who among us would choose to die for so easily a regretted vice.

I again resolve myself to the path from which I have strayed. Current count: 13 hrs, 0 days. One step at a time.

-Jeremiah

Current Mood: determined

It's frustrating when it isn't easier (really) on day 4 than on day 1, but this too shall pass. I woke up this morning REALLY wanting a cigarette. But I haven't had one. I've been writing instead. My sleep schedule might not be perfect at present, but I really have no desire to go through this again. However many times is enough. Dayeinu. I intend to see this one through.

Begin day 5. Arghhh.

Current Mood: bitchy

Some years ago, I listened to Garrison Keilor give a short Keilor-style dissertation on men, on men and flowing water. Mr. Keilor suggested that there comes a time of year when men want to control the way that water flows. It could be a hose in the yard. It could be peeing in the parking lot. It could be a pond in our garden. There comes a time when we wish to control the flow of water.

Our power is a fragile thing, full of the everything and absence of everything with which we choose to imbue it. The same man can be the envy of a 500-person crowd or the most pitiful specimen in a 20-person bar. We are what we make of ourselves, of the water, the essence, the life which flows through us.

At the end of the day, our energy defines us. However preoccupied we, ourselves, may be, whether it be with the attractiveness or unatractiveness of our form, we define ourselves in story. We choose to be complex or to be simple. We choose to be proud, or to be weak, or to live in that most terrifyingly vulnerable of states which defines the everyday. We choose, moment by moment, to embrace that which defines us, that which makes us unique and whole, and hope that in so doing we may find the poem which ends the search.

I look for that which completes me. For the other half to a soul. There must be someone for whom the love of life transcends that which is merely pretty, who has the confidence to express joy in the face of banality, who will respond with hope when I feel the most despair. There must be someone who believes that all stories are true, that at the center of that which is most confusing must be the most true, that connection is more than a word to describe convenience.

There are days when I live and love at the will of the word. When the spirit flows through me and it takes all I have not to speak, not to share my innermost thoughts with those at bus-station and metro-train, when I struggle to contain the power of that which manifests at my surface. There are days when my depths rebel, and it is all I can do to remain calm. The world is not shallow, look for those who see its depths, for in those depths lie the greatest mysteries.

There is that which transcends the moment, connection which continues to provide even in the absence of communication, that which changes us merely because we know it is. We act on the surface, but we react much more deeply. I'm expected in Greenbelt, and I should go. Much love to you all. May that which sneaks upon you in the night be answered with your morning kiss.
Much love,
-Jeremiah

Minute by minute, hour by hour, I've been refusing to smoke. I really hope this gets easier soon.
-Jeremiah

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now (even if we don't speak often or ever) please post a comment with a completely made up, fictional memory of you and me.

It can be anything you want - good or bad - but it has to be fake.

When you're finished, post this little paragraph in your LJ and see what your friends come up with.

Another morning spent being stern with myself. I really need to get caught up on class stuff, but the last few nights it's been pretty much everything I could do to get through to 5:00, meet after-work obligations, make myself eat something, and then put myself to bed. I really want to be social this weekend, but I should probably spend a fair amount of time just making sure I have my "i"s dotted and my "t"s crossed.

I cleaned out and stored all of my ashtrays yesterday. Tonight I'll try to do laundry so that the smell is out of my clothes. Still no cigarettes since noon Wednesday. So it's on. Nice when a quit attempt gains traction. Hard to do, but it gives you something to keep working for. My sense of smell is already recovering, which is always a mixed blessing. I live in a city after all, there are a lot of smells around me I'm not grateful for smelling. Still, on the whole I suppose I'd always choose to have sharper senses, even if there's a lot of unpleasantness to sense. Better to be sensitive, particularly if you wish to be a healer.

Not really sure what this weekend will consist of. Certainly there needs to be a fair amount of mundane chore-doing, classwork, and the like, but hopefully I'll fit some fun in there as well. Much love to you all, wherever you may be. I hope your weekends are wonderful.

-Jer

Current Mood: cranky