Wednesday, April 30, 2003

Time to put out the moon...

I've only seen one complete lunar eclipse in my life.

I was with Rosa when it happened. (Oh, no. Here he goes again.) We were driving through the high desert from Northern California to Las Vegas, winding our way around and through the mountains. It was rather late for driving, about 10pm; we'd been driving all day. Actually, I'd been driving all day. Rosa was asleep in the rental beside me. I remember looking at that moon going red, stroking Rosa's hair, and feeling incredibly lucky.

The next complete eclipse of the moon is coming on May 15 (, from about 9pm to about 10pm. Enjoy it with someone you love.

I plan to stay indoors.
Talk about a useful link!

How about 19,000 books?!

I normally find no use for digital text - I still prefer to hold my books - but you might get a lot of use out of this. Just go to

I figured it would be a nice break from the constant whining...
How do I create without Rosa in my life?

This is a question I've been posing to myself the past couple of days. (And one I'm going to regret ever mentioning in the fantastically unlikely event she and I ever do end up together.)

It seems that Rosa has been around from the beginning. When I started my first book at 17, she was around to see it half-finished two years later. And she lost it. But she was around for everything since then. Seven novels. Three plays. More short stories than I can count. Innumerable poems.

Words mean very little without her to hear them - and, in fact, it's a chore to write here.

But I do for therapy.

I feel I should be creating great art, doing something constructive, providing some meaning... and all my mind can give me is a reminder of her eyes, the softness of her breath... stupid mind...
Universal Unitarians... Unitarian Universalists... UUs... Double Yews...

I went to a Unitarian Universalist service this weekend, the hardcore atheist tip-toeing cautiously out of his cave...

Now, a word to you about my religious beliefs - and the lack thereof - I have always like to keep my spirituality in small letters. So, when I saw I am an atheist, it is as an "atheist". When I saw I am a buddhist, it is not as a "BUDDHIST". Keeping things in lowercase helps keep us humble - a philosophy with which no christian should disagree.

So, I went to a UU service. I went because I wanted to find some place where I felt I belonged, some place where I could be comfortable. This was before Rosa broke up with me but I think I could see it coming. (And yes, I'm still in a lot of pain every day.) I needed to find some place that wouldn't hurt me.

I sat down in a church more full than I would have given it credit... and felt... completely, utterly alone. And I realized, "Ken, this is your life now. You're alone. There's no a whole lot you can do to change that. I know this isn't what you wanted. This isn't what you hoped for. This wasn't your dream. But this is what you got."

Needless to say, I didn't have a great time.

UUs are an interesting bunch. The service was one part psychology/philosophy/history lesson, one part pagan/ancestor worship, and one part new age, um, crap. This was a flighty bunch, a silly lot, weird in the way of going to a Russian restaurant in the middle of Seattle -

And I think I liked it. Nobody talked about vengeance - they talked about healing. They didn't use the language of us or them. I couldn't see them supporting the war. And I can't imagine any of them killing a doctor.

I might go back.

But it won't change the fact that I'm alone. I don't know if that was my original intent but it sure drove the nail home. Last night, I thought about how connected I still feel to Rosa. I feel a tether that ties us together and, yes, it connects at the heart. I can feel it tangibly. Somehow, I need to let that go... but I don't know how.

And, so, another day...

Monday, April 28, 2003

I am okay.

This Blog, like emails, are a real pain when telling something in sequence.

Where I am now isn't where I was yesterday, when my guts felt so awful, when I felt so empty, when I couldn't imagine a future without Rosa. It isn't where I was this morning, having awoken from a night of dreams about Rosa, dreams in which we talked about mundane things or held each other and laughed. It isn't where I was when I got to work, when I was a zombie.

I can't really tell you about that. You just have to believe me, it wasn't fun.

But then, something happened.

I was having a cigarette (plans are in place for a significant cutback) when I had what can only be termed an epiphany. My eyes suddenly opened.

And I realized that I'm okay. There's nothing wrong with me. (Though this is a highly debatable statement, just let me have it.) I gave Rosa all I had to give and I would have given more - but she didn't want it. That doesn't make me a bad person, unlovable. When we decided to start talking and being friends again, I gave her that and put aside all of my fears (at least, when I was with her). When she told me she was pregnant, I embraced her and rejected my insecurities. When she needed time, I gave that to her. I did my best and didn't fail because of anything I did wrong.

I think, perhaps, because she was so unwilling to give, that, too, helps me see that this doesn't mean there's something wrong with me. Some people had conjectured that I wanted too much too soon - but, I promise you, I didn't. And I think it's easier to accept her rejection, knowing that I am okay.

That said, I know there are bad days ahead that I'll have to get through but I promise to do my best trying.

I'm not dead yet, folks.

Thanks to those who sent words of support and are helping me through this. It means very much.

I'll always love Rosa. She is the love of my life. I don't mind saying that.

Embrace the journey. (Words I'll try to stick by...)

Sunday, April 27, 2003

It's the day we've all dreaded.

Rosa broke up with me today.

She said it was because she didn't love me. I know that's a lie. In the past couple of months, I've seen that she still loves me - but she's too afraid. Afraid of what? I don't know if I'll ever know.

Now, I have to face the prospect of a future without her. Without my love, my home, my life.

How can I do that?

I'm asking you. Give me answers. Please write when you can, as soon as you can. Now is when I need you.

More to follow...

Monday, April 21, 2003

So much happening...

I went to the movies with Keith yesterday. Keith and I are working on this whole "being brothers" idea. We've never really been brothers. I mean, we share the same parents but I've always felt closer to Dwight than to Keith. It's interesting (he's very right wing) but nice.

So, I'm at the movie with him yesterday. During the movie, he leans over and says something to me. I look at him and am shocked at how... familiar he looked. Of course, he's familiar - but there was something more there. It bothered me throughout the movie. Only later did I realize that when I looked at him in the darkened theater, I saw myself. There was a true sense of brotherhood, of shared origins and shared destinies, there.

I've always believed firmly in the idea that all men are brothers, all people are connected through a common web. What we do to the web, we do to ourselves. What we do to any living thing, we do to ourselves. (As uncomfortable as some might be with this thought, this includes Iraqis, includes "terrorists", includes Sadam Hussein.) But I don't think I've felt such tangible evidence before.

This brings me to Rosa... of course.

Rosa's been very distant of late. The pregnancy is very difficult for her - I mean this in a physical sense. She could lose this baby if she's not careful.

Today, her doctor ordered her bedrest until further notice.

I asked her if there was anything I could do to help.

She couldn't think of anything I could do.

I could.

I told her that it would probably be best for her if I took a few steps back. I let her know that I wasn't doing this out of anger. It wasn't because I didn't love her and want to be with her. It was because, on top of the stress of this difficult pregnancy, she did not need the stress of a new relationship. I told her I'd call her less, once a week, and that she could call me whenever she wanted; I would be there for her whenever she needed me. If she wanted me by her side, I would be there.

I told her I wouldn't date anyone until she was sure there was no chance of us being together.

What this will mean in the long run, I don't know. This is a huge sacrifice on my part, to be away from the woman I need so desperately in my life. But I feel that it is not a sacrifice to her, it is a sacrifice for our love, for our relationship. Giving this to her, I feel, is an act of atonement, at-one-ment. We are joined more surely than I am with my brother. We are joined by a bond stronger than our marriage vows. As I am willing to do anything to be with her, I am willing to be away from her if that means it will help her.

This is tough for me. I've been having panic attacks lately. I'd never had panic attacks before, never even had them during my nervous breakdown. Now, panic attacks. (Great.) But I knew that they were caused by this terrible feeling of helplessness, impotence. Rosa wouldn't let me into her life, wouldn't share her life that I so desperately needed to share in. In taking this action, I feel I am not only helping Rosa but I may be helping myself.

I told Rosa we would talk - not just talk but TALK - about our relationship late next month. Perhaps then, she will see things clearer. Perhaps then, she will understand what I understand - that our souls are truly joined and we are truly meant to be together. Perhaps not. It may turn out that I will be alone. But haven't I been? And surely there's no better time to show her just how much I love her.

What does love mean? Doesn't love mean that you are willing to sacrifice that which is most important to you? Could I tell her I loved her and not give her this time? I don't think so.

Those who read the "Kenmails" during the past year, might have seen one early this year wherein I forecast that 2003 would test the strength I'd gained in 2002. I don't know how I knew that but, surely, it is coming true.
A Quick Movie Review

Before I get to the business of the long entry I have planned for later, I thought I'd send you this short one.

I saw "Anger Management" yesterday afternoon with my brother, Keith. Anger Management is the latest Adam Sandler extravaganza but he gets completely overshadowed by the talent of Jack Nicholson. This comes as no surprise to anyone.

I would have enjoyed this movie a lot more had I been in a better mood. Objectively, I'd say it rates about a 6-7. It has funny moments, but...

First of all, anyone who doesn't see the ending coming in the first ten minutes isn't paying attention. I know you don't see these kinds of movies for something new and fresh - it's the same, old Sandler jokes we've been hearing for ten years - but I need a little bit more to be entertained. And, while on the subject of fresh, can these jokes be any more tired? My god!

Next, Sandler recycles so many jokes and smug, indulgent references to his previous movies that I found myself cringing. I know the true talents never get disgustingly rich, so I'm not complaining about that, but he could have done so much better.

Sandler does the same routine as in his other films, the same faces, the same everything. Granted, he has a formula that works for him and I don't hold that against him. But put him next to Nicholson and you begin to wonder why Sandler is there - even the supporting cast was more alive than this guy. Talk about phoning in a performance!

Lastly, once Sandler (via his writers) began to insult Buddhism, he lost me completely. It's one thing to insult something if you know something about it but these guys didn't even bother to do their homework. "Don't insult my God," one character says when a crack against Buddha is made (a well-delivered crack on Nicholson's part, by the way). Anyone who knows anything about Buddhism knows that Buddha has never been interpreted as a God. It just goes downhill from there.

You see, Keith brought me to help cheer me up.

He and I still have a lot to learn about each other.

Friday, April 18, 2003

"Don't be judgmental."

You hear this pretty often. We live in a world that is afraid of being judged and, yet, quick to judge.

I used to be a very judgmental person. I could list for you the flaws in any person, idea, place, thing, action, or sitcom. The problem with this, however, was that I was usually right. And people didn't want to hear it. Who among us likes to have their sitcom idea judged harshly?

Certainly, not I.

After losing Rosa, I realized that my rush to judgment pushed a lot of people away. I was losing friends, even family. So, I decided to rethink the speed at which I judged. I realized that, often, I was so quick to find flaw that I missed what might have been right or, barring that, the method in the mess. And, so, I decided to hold off on judging, if just for a little while. Mind you, this took over a year to do. It was then, however, that I realized what I'd been missing. What was that?

Very simply, who gives a shit? "Oh, he shouldn't have spent all of his money." So what. It's his money. "Oh, those two people shouldn't be together." So what. They're not you. After a while, I realized that just because you can judge doesn't necessarily mean you should or that you need to. After a while, I decided to try to be a lot less judgmental.

The world around me, however, being full of other people just as judgmental as I ever was, continued to judge me. You shouldn't smoke. You shouldn't drink. Rosa's wrong for you. You should support the wholesale slaughter of Iraqis. You should do this. You shouldn't do that. blah blah blah blah blah....

Okay. So, not everybody understood what I tried to keep in mind. And, whenever people judged me, I thought back on when I would judge them and I figured it was a wash. Anyway, when someone judges me it gives me pause. Are they right? Why aren't they? Should I listen? Are they completely full of shit?

So, keep in mind, dear friends, what it means to judge. We all do it but nobody likes it done to them.

Thursday, April 17, 2003

It looks like the Dick Cheney may finally be brough to justice for a few of his many crimes.

The Associated Press reports today:

"The Bush administration ran into strong opposition in a federal appeals court Thursday as government lawyers tried to stop a lawsuit delving into Vice President Dick Cheney's contacts with energy industry executives and lobbyists. Appeals judges Harry Edwards and David Tatel suggested the White House had no legal basis for asking them to block a lower court judge from letting the case proceed."

So, we may be hearing more about Dick's flight from justice in the near future.

... Oh, come on. Who are we kidding?
Third time's the charm...

Now that we've destoyed Iraq... okay, that's rather harsh... now that we've bombed the Iraqis back to stone, the real money comes in. Now, we can rebuild it. We can make it better than before. McDonalds. Starbucks. Walmart...

A lot of people think the good ol' U.S. of A. is so altruistic but forget all the money we make when we rebuild all these countries we destroy (Japan *cough* South Korea *cough*).

So, who gets all this money?

Well, first, it was supposed to be Haliburton - because everyone knows how good they are with money. Then, it was found that Dick Cheney looked like he'd make a shitload of money off the deal.

Then, it was the Carlyle Group... until it was found that Shrub would make a shitload of money off the deal.

Now, it's Bechtel. Yes, Bechtel.

Who's pocket is Bechtel in? What does it matter?! We didn't kill all these people to go poor, folks! We killed them to make some money! Don't shy away when the true face of American greed shines so brightly. Don't we allow our leaders to be voted in so they can make money off of it, after all? Check the headstones. "Civil Service" died off long ago.

So, keep Bechtel in mind. We're bound to hear things coming from there...
Apparently, the Iraqis are annoyed... yet again.

This time, they're raising a big stink. It seems they want us to stop killing them.

Oh, please. Talk about petty.

Do they forget all the bombing we had to do? Do they forget all the missiles we had to launch? Didn't they see how hard Condoleeza Rice was working the talk-show circuit? Didn't they see the sweat on Shrub's brow as he struggled (vainly) to compose complete sentences?

This hasn't been all fun and games over here! Ingrates.

But they just bitch and whine. "Oh, you're shooting indiscriminately into crowds." "Oh, you're not allowing emergency medical aide to get through." "Oh, we're starving."

Yeah. Yeah. Whatever. We all have problems, you know?

I'm telling you, if every country we conquer is going to act like this, I say we just forget about wiping out Syria!

Wednesday, April 16, 2003

Back to War news...

With so much going on these days, it's nice to hear the occasional voice of reason. Michael Moore's, for instance. His is a voice of reason that can, occasionally, sound unreasonable... but powerful...

Here is an article he recently wrote regarding the world in which we live:

It appears that the Bush administration will have succeeded in colonizing Iraq sometime in the next few days. This is a blunder of much magnitude – and we will pay for it for years to come. It was not worth the life of one single American kid in uniform, let alone the thousands of Iraqis who have died, and my condolences and prayers go out to all of them.

So, where are all those weapons of mass destruction that were the pretense for this war? Ha! There is so much to say about all this, but I will save it for later.

What I am most concerned about right now is that all of you – the majority of Americans who did not support this war in the first place – not go silent or be intimidated by what will be touted as some great military victory. Now, more than ever, the voices of peace and truth must be heard. I have received a lot of mail from people who are feeling a profound sense of despair and believe that their voices have been drowned out by the drums and bombs of false patriotism. Some are afraid of retaliation at work or at school or in their neighborhoods because they have been vocal proponents of peace. They have been told over and over that it is not "appropriate" to protest once the country is at war, and that your only duty now is to "support the troops."

Can I share with you what it's been like for me since I used my time on the Oscar stage two weeks ago to speak out against Bush and this war? I hope that, in reading what I'm about to tell you, you'll feel a bit more emboldened to make your voice heard in whatever way or forum that is open to you.

When "Bowling for Columbine" was announced as the Oscar winner for Best Documentary at the Academy Awards, the audience rose to its feet. It was a great moment, one that I will always cherish. They were standing and cheering for a film that says we Americans are a uniquely violent people, using our massive stash of guns to kill each other and to use them against many countries around the world. They were applauding a film that shows George W. Bush using fictitious fears to frighten the public into giving him whatever he wants. And they were honoring a film that states the following: The first Gulf War was an attempt to reinstall the dictator of Kuwait; Saddam Hussein was armed with weapons from the United States; and the American government is responsible for the deaths of a half-million children in Iraq over the past decade through its sanctions and bombing. That was the movie they were cheering, that was the movie they voted for, and so I decided that is what I should acknowledge in my speech.

And, thus, I said the following from the Oscar stage:

"On behalf of our producers Kathleen Glynn and Michael Donovan (from Canada), I would like to thank the Academy for this award. I have invited the other Documentary nominees on stage with me. They are here in solidarity because we like non-fiction. We like non-fiction because we live in fictitious times. We live in a time where fictitious election results give us a fictitious president. We are now fighting a war for fictitious reasons. Whether it's the fiction of duct tape or the fictitious 'Orange Alerts,' we are against this war, Mr. Bush. Shame on you, Mr. Bush, shame on you. And, whenever you've got the Pope and the Dixie Chicks against you, your time is up."

Halfway through my remarks, some in the audience started to cheer. That immediately set off a group of people in the balcony who started to boo. Then those supporting my remarks started to shout down the booers. The L. A. Times reported that the director of the show started screaming at the orchestra "Music! Music!" in order to cut me off, so the band dutifully struck up a tune and my time was up.

The next day – and in the two weeks since – the right-wing pundits and radio shock jocks have been calling for my head. So, has all this ruckus hurt me? Have they succeeded in "silencing" me?

Well, take a look at my Oscar "backlash":

-> On the day after I criticized Bush and the war at the Academy Awards, attendance at "Bowling for Columbine" in theaters around the country went up 110 percent (source: Daily Variety/ The following weekend, the box office gross was up a whopping 73 percent (Variety). It is now the longest-running consecutive commercial release in America, 26 weeks in a row and still thriving. The number of theaters showing the film since the Oscars has INCREASED, and it has now bested the previous box office record for a documentary by nearly 300 percent.

-> Yesterday (April 6), "Stupid White Men" shot back to #1 on the New York Times bestseller list. This is my book's 50th week on the list, eight of them at #1, and this marks its fourth return to the top position, something that virtually never happens.

-> In the week after the Oscars, my website was getting 10-20 million hits A DAY (one day we even got more hits than the White House!). The mail has been overwhelmingly positive and supportive (and the hate mail has been hilarious!).

-> In the two days following the Oscars, more people pre-ordered the video for "Bowling for Columbine" on than the video for the Oscar winner for Best Picture, "Chicago."

-> In the past week, I have obtained funding for my next documentary, and I have been offered a slot back on television to do an updated version of "TV Nation"/ "The Awful Truth."

I tell you all of this because I want to counteract a message that is told to us all the time – that, if you take a chance to speak out politically, you will live to regret it. It will hurt you in some way, usually financially. You could lose your job. Others may not hire you. You will lose friends. And on and on and on.

Take the Dixie Chicks. I'm sure you've all heard by now that, because their lead singer mentioned how she was ashamed that Bush was from her home state of Texas, their record sales have "plummeted" and country stations are boycotting their music. The truth is that their sales are NOT down. This week, after all the attacks, their album is still at #1 on the Billboard country charts and, according to Entertainment Weekly, on the pop charts during all the brouhaha, they ROSE from #6 to #4. In the New York Times, Frank Rich reports that he tried to find a ticket to ANY of the Dixie Chicks' upcoming concerts but he couldn't because they were all sold out.

Their song, "Travelin' Soldier" (a beautiful anti-war ballad) was the most requested song on the Internet last week. They have not been hurt at all – but that is not what the media would have you believe. Why is that? Because there is nothing more important now than to keep the voices of dissent – and those who would dare to ask a question – silent. And what better way than to try and take a few well-known entertainers down with a pack of lies so that the average Joe or Jane gets the message loud and clear: "Wow, if they would do that to the Dixie Chicks or Michael Moore, what would they do to little ol' me?" In other words, shut the f*** up.

And that, my friends, is the real point of this film that I just got an Oscar for – how those in charge use fear to manipulate the public into doing whatever they are told.

Well, the good news – if there can be any good news this week – is that not only have neither I nor others been silenced, we have been joined by millions of Americans who think the same way we do. Don't let the false patriots intimidate you by setting the agenda or the terms of the debate. Don't be defeated by polls that show 70 percent of the public in favor of the war. Remember that these Americans being polled are the same Americans whose kids (or neighbor's kids) have been sent over to Iraq. They are scared for the troops and they are being cowed into supporting a war they did not want – and they want even less to see their friends, family, and neighbors come home dead. Everyone supports the troops returning home alive and all of us need to reach out and let their families know that.

Unfortunately, Bush and Co. are not through yet. This invasion and conquest will encourage them to do it again elsewhere. The real purpose of this war was to say to the rest of the world, "Don't Mess with Texas - If You Got What We Want, We're Coming to Get It!" This is not the time for the majority of us who believe in a peaceful America to be quiet. Make your voices heard. Despite what they have pulled off, it is still our country.
There are times when I don't know what I'm doing.

There are times when I'm pretty clueless.

There are times when I don't know WHAT THE FUCK is going on!

These days, I'm all three.

Rosa and I talked yesterday. Michael and I talked, also.

After only half a day, I knew the feeling of 37 years of failure crushing you into a soft, gelatinous goo... and I didn't like it. I knew I needed Rosa and I had to try again.

At this point, I'll just say that I know I'm the one putting out the effort here. I'm aware of that. You don't need to point it out. Yes, I am worried that this is how my life will be - but I'm more worried that my life will be worse. That is will be void of Rosa. So, I do put out the effort in the hopes that she'll see me and want me, too.

So, I went to her house at lunch yesterday, and we talked. It's true, she said, that she still loves Michael. This was why she wanted to take it slow because she didn't think it was fair of her to try to have a relationship with me until she knew she was over him. She also told me that she wasn't over the divorce. As much torture as I've put myself through over having left wasn't enough, it seems.

She still seems moderately interested in me - the way you'd feel about a peach or a jar of pickles, say - and she wants to take it slower. Slower than ever before. Sisyphean!

The upside to this is Michael. He seems to be very supportive, as though he genuinely wants the two of us back together again. Granted, this has got to be painful for Rosa, who has told me she's in love with the guy. It sounds very much like:

Child: Mom, can I have some chocolate ice cream?
Mom: No, honey, but you can have this CAULIFLOWER!

... or something like that.

Anyway, he seems to be a very nice guy and I think we'll get along... providing Rosa wants me around.

It's all very confusing. The only thing I'm sure of is that losing Rosa drove me to the brink of suicide - nearly to the edge in a literal sense. I don't want to have to deal with that loss again.

And, so, I keep trying.

I swear. If my life was a television show, it would have been cancelled years ago!

Tuesday, April 15, 2003

Last night would have been my third night without sleep. I didn't want that to happen but Rosa had just told me she was in love with another man.

It didn't look like I'd be sleeping.

There's one thing you don't want to do, however, when facing a life you'd rather not be living and that is be conscious. I don't know if I can even explain this well enough but, basically, I'm in a place where I don't want to DO anything. I don't want to play video games, watch movies, read, write, listen to music - I don't want to pass the time because, for me, the time won't pass. I am stuck in a state that can't just be brushed aside with entertainment.

So, I drank. I figured alcohol would help take the pain away a little - Hey. A million alcoholics can't be wrong.

Eventually, after a bottle of sauvignon, I passed out.

But, you know what? Another day just followed it. And now, I've got another day to think about how Rosa's in love with another man and how my heart has been crushed. Another day to think about how she won't be mine. Another day to think about all the plans I'd made - helping her raise her child, having one of our own, growing old with her - will never happen.

Worse, I'd compiled a couple of cds, to celebrate in some small way our return - and now they are just so much bunk. And the music runs through my head - over and over -

"Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breath and to love you..."

"I know you're out there somewhere, and somehow I'll return again to you..."

"We go together, like a wink and a smile..."

I can't stop it.

When even your thoughts betray your heartache, it's not good enough to live one day at a time. You can't even live an hour at a time.

Today, I live in five minute increments... and every five minutes is very painful.

I had gone to the Grand Canyon last year to kill myself but was stopped from doing so. For the past couple of months, I'd begun to believe that I had been stopped for a reason. Now? I haven't a clue.
It's over.

And I don't know how to say it.

I thought that I showing Rosa how much I loved her would make a difference. I thought that showing her how much I've changed would matter. I thought that being good to her and loving her and giving would...

Last night, Rosa told me that she's in love with Michael.

So, all this time, I've been in love with a woman who didn't want me, which is ironic. Why? Because Michael doesn't want her.

But she would rather have the fantasy of a man she can't have than have me.

Now, I don't know what's going to happen. She may decide that she wants me. She may realize she has no future with Michael. But I don't know how long that will take or when that will happen.

Until then, I have to learn how to live without what makes my life worth living... or, at least, I have to try... again.

... meanwhile, I've got that stupid Michael Bolton song going through my head - and that's just wrong!

Monday, April 14, 2003

Let's get a couple of things straight.

I'm what you might call "an opinionated person". I have opinions. Lots of opinions. I have green opinions. I have blue opinions. I have old opinions. I have new opinions.

And I like to express my opinions. I think that's the only way we smooth the rough edges of our beliefs, by expressing them and by becoming aware of other's. By this, I am saying that my opinions are simply that: opinions. When listed here, they are not meant as law and they are not meant as unchangeable. Nor, on the other hand, are they meant as flighty or unconsidered. I express them to give you my view and I invite you to give me yours. Again, how else do we learn?

But please try to read what I'm saying before you jump to conclusions.

Here's a case in point:

I do not believe we should be in this "war". (I put that word in quotes because, to date, I've yet to see Congress approve a declaration of war.) I believe it is a war of aggression. NO reason George "born-again coke fiend" Bush (also known as "Shrub") gave for fighting this "war" - from Iraq being responsible for 9/11, to weapons of mass destruction, to "liberating" those people (as if you could "liberate" anyone by bombing them to stone) - proved to be true and we are left with the queasy fact that we have started a war just as Japan started a war, just as Hitler started a war.

No, wait. At least Japan created an incident with China back in the 1930's and Hitler, at least, knew how to lie well enough so his people believed him.

Okay? So, I think I've made my view on that clear.

This is NOT to say that I hate the United States of America. On the contrary! I believe those most committed to something are those who first speak out when that something is being destroyed. I firmly believe that wars of aggression and "Patriot" Acts destroy the foundation of our society and I am compelled to speak out. We are supposed to be the good guys, people! How anyone can liken that dream with hating America is far beyond my comprehension. It flies in the face of reason just as much as the popular belief that Shrub must be infallible because he is President.

So, get used to it because I'm not shutting up. This little Blog is a pretty insignificant corner of the universe but it's mine and I plan to say what I want.

... Cause, after all, the way my love life is going, it might be interesting to win a free trip to Cuba as a political prisoner.

Sunday, April 13, 2003


When I was a kid, my dad wasn't around much. My mom and dad divorced in 1970, when I was five years old and my dad escaped to remote and exotic locations... like Westminster... Garden Grove... Riverside...

When he was around, my dad would take us to Disneyland. This was not the Disneyland of today. It was the Disneyland of the 70's, with Submarines, Motor Boats, Adventures Through Inner Space, and Autopias. It was a time when the suspension of belief was not necessarily... necessary. By today's standards, these rides kind of sucked but they still hold a great deal of nostalgia for me as I wistfully remember my dad steering the motorboat as if he was actually stearing the motorboat.

Thanks to my friend Tim (from San Diego), I found a site where you can revisit the Disneyland of yesteryear - it is Yesterland! Go to (one of these days, I'll learn how to include hyperlinks) and be amazed.

My dad would also take us to Disney movies - and ONLY Disney movies. This, of course, led us to believe he had a real penchant for all things Disney. NOT SO!

It wasn't until years later that I realized my dad hated Disney - or that he loved Disney but wouldn't let anyone know about it.

My dad's a complicated man - a man I will never really know - but, regardless, I will cherish what memories I have of those times, when the world seemed a little bit more innocent.

Thursday, April 10, 2003

Fiction or Reality? Fiction or Reality?

Joe Lieberman is going after video games again. He wants to fund research on the affects video games have on children. As he said, "beyond being offensive to our values, we should know whether this is helping to nurture misogynistic views and behaviors among young boys."

Okay, Joe. Repeat after me. "It's a game." "It's a game." "It is fiction." "It isn't REAL."

You think Joe has a firm grip on reality? I mean, let's face it, he's a Republican who thinks he's a Democrat. (And I say that with the fondest affection for the whack-job.)

I have a crazy idea. Rather than fund forays into the affects of fiction - why not fund REALITY?! Give the money to our schools, for Pete's sake!

... oh, wait. That's not glamorous enough. Nobody ever gets press for pragmatism.

My bad.
My name's Ken. I am an insomniac.

"Hi, Ken."

Since my teenage years, otherwise known as the age of the dinosaurs, sleep and I haven't been the best of friends. I borrowed its set of metric socket wrenches once and forgot to give them back and then we stopped talking and our relationship was blown all together. So, it was around that time when I stopped sleeping.

Eventually, old age set in (that is, my thirties) and sleeping was easier for me.

After my divorce, however, it became pretty much impossible to sleep. Back in October of 2002, however, I cut off all contact with my ex-wife and, miraculously, I was able to sleep again. Oh, I was pretty damned miserable - in fact, a few months of that proved to me just how important she is to me - but, at least, I slept!

Last night, she talked to me about how hard this whole situation - her being pregnant with the baby of a man who didn't want to be with her while I was desperate to be with her - is for her to accept. She basically said she didn't want me. (NOTE: With her being pregnant, I'm not ruling out the idea that it might have been her hormones talking. In fact, I'm hoping it was. Still...)

I asked her if we could talk about this in person. My friend from San Diego, Tim, is coming up for the weekend. She doesn't want to get in the way of what was supposed to be a couple of days of wild debauchery but will now, undoubtedly, be a couple of days of listening to me bitch and moan, so she said we'd talk on Sunday. Oh swell. Three lovely days of not knowing what the hell is going on.

So, guess who didn't sleep?

Oh, this wasn't the first time. As soon as she was back in my life, all bets about sleeping were off. It's as though sleep is jealous of her and sulks off whenever she's around. So, I've lost more than my share of sleep in the past couple of months. Last night was just another night.

Here's what happens sometimes... like last night: You lay down in bed with your mind racing... and it gets later. Midnight passes. Then, 1:00am. Around 2:00am, you are finally tired enough to let yourself, after a depressed look at the clock, relax and fall into sleep.

You wake up thinking that it's morning and you need to get to work. You get up. You go into the bathroom to brush your teeth but before you do, you realize it's still dark out. You walk carefully back into your bedroom - carefully because the floor is littered with your very large shoes - and see that only fifteen minutes went by since you went to sleep. It's only 2:15 - and now you are definitely wide awake.


When I found out she was pregnant, I realized that it didn't matter. She'd gotten pregnant before I'd come back so it wasn't as though she'd been unfaithful or anything. All that mattered to me was that I loved her and wanted to share my life with her.

Sadly, however, it doesn't look like she wants me. John Lennon was wrong. Sometimes, you need more than love.

And if that won't keep you up at night, nothing will.

Wednesday, April 09, 2003

There are few things you'll need to know about me...

Here's one: I am an eternal child.

Actually, we're all eternal children; the child we once were lives on in all of us. Some of us are simply better at acknowledging this. In fact, I think we'd all be a lot better off were we to realize the joy of the child inside us. (The only problem with this is that it sounds far too much like something a guest on Oprah might write - and that ain't me, folks!)

One sign of this childlike nature I never seem to lose is my love of cookies.

Face it, folks, cookies are pretty damned wonderful. There they are... warm... chewy, yet a bit crispy...yyyyuuuummmm....... Cookies hold all of the goodness we once knew in our childhood. If you're like me, you loved to lick the bowl after your mom made a batch of cookies. You also loved to eat the cookie dough. Is it any wonder why cookie dough ice cream is so popular? Because there's a kid inside of us who can now GET AWAY WITH eating cookie dough!

Cookies are little packages of fun. Their sweetness is pervasive, invasive... and other words ending in "asive" that I can't stop to think about right now because I'm writing at work...

Cookies are the transport mechanism for such wonderfulness as chocolate chips, peanut butter, nuts, M&Ms, chocolate chips, and chocolate chips. (Okay! So, I like chocolate chip cookies!)

I think we can all agree on this.

So, why did we allow some rotten person to use the word "cookie" to describe the data web sites sometimes store on your hard drive? These cookies aren't tasty! They are, very often, a pain in the butt - with NO chocolate chips!!! Why do we continue to allow people to devalue our language like this? Works like "cookie" should be sacred. They hold a place in our memory from our childhoods and should not be messed with. The same with words like "love" and "liberty" and "freedom" and "election"...

Hmmm... "liberty", "freedom", "election"... words that have been sorely devalued of late.

Words are very important. They hold the key to who we are and how we see our world. Cookies are no longer tasty things with chocolate chips. Neither "liberty" nor "freedom" are no longer concepts that raise men above his past but now shackle him. "Election"... well, that term was drastically devalued in the last presidential debacle.

... I was talking about cookies, wasn't I?
It's April ninth in the year 2003.

There's war in the world. Our environment is breaking down as a result of too many damned people. My job sucks. The economy sucks. I am trying to reunite with my ex-wife who is now pregnant with another man's baby.

... and my apartment has ants.

All in all, another day in my life.

There's much more to tell and, believe me, I will tell it.

Stay tuned...