2003-09-16 - 11:17 a.m.

Taking a break for work (since when the hell did I become so damn efficient? Probably since I can’t look up Euro porn on the work PC).

Anyway, so yeah it’s been a while. Nothing new happened; I still smoke but it’s more of a stress induced thing since I only smoke when I’m at UCF. Yeah my grad program, the MTA trucking school of high learning. Every week I ask myself, God, and any miscellaneous kami hanging around what the hell happened to me? I used to be a historian with promise. I used to be an intellectual, I used to be a life taking, heart breaking, porn worshipping enfant-terrible, a pot smoking outlaw historian, a rogue scholar. Now I slum at some third rate history program who’s sole benefit is that it amounts to being able to get a job in the fast food cattle college teaching wasteland of Orlando and getting my jollies looking down the blouses of my female students sitting in the front row. I sit though inane conversation that go on the most mind numbing tangents with people who are the historian equivalents of Goober from the Andy Griffith show. And the fact that the best insult I can come up with is Goober shows how far I have fallen.

So that’s it. I quit. No more. Enough. Acta est fabula.

I’m done with this crap and I’m going to law school. Okay maybe not yet, but I’ve been reconsidering law school. Lately I’ve been coming to grips with the fact that I might just make a damn good lawyer. That or a political consultant. Gah. I know; I’d rather be jizz mopper at an Amsterdam peep show than take up such filthy professions but I’ve been discovering that the reason I love history—and if I may be allowed a moment of arrogance—and why I’m so damn good at it is that I’m a good analyst. I can see systems and interplay; I can see the whole field. I’m Joe Montana. I can see how shit’s gonna come down and I’m good at building up arguments or mapping out strategies to bring down everything. And the more I think about it, I’ve done what I wanted in history: I got to teach. Maybe it’s time to move on. But that’s the problem. I love my gig; it’s a drug. Teaching is like doing a line of coke off the taut belly of a 17 year old girl while her twin sister feeds you sushi, all the while watching as more Christians are being fed to lions. Mutant lions with three testicles, acid blood, and lasers bolted onto their heads.

And if I become a lawyer or worse a political consultant I can see only two options for me: I become some crack pot idealist who gets so burned out at the corruption and filth in either profession that I grow a pony tail and run off to Berkley to smoke pot and run an organic vegetable stand with my hetero-life partner Moonglow while performing stand-up poetry and political commentary at the Liberal Coffee Hut and advising governor turned senator Gary Coleman.

Or the Republican party comes up to me and bludgeons me unconscious (and un-conscience-ed) with money, a beamer, and a trophy wife so that I end up in Gerogetwon as part of the United Colors of the Republican party, the glorified Uncle Charlie Chan Mr. Moto W.S.A.B. for President Jeb Bush, smiling for photo ops and news shows and why yes, I think Fox news is fair and balanced and going to shallow parties with my coked to the gills wife who only married me for the money and that interracial (white+asian) marriage is “in” this season as well as the fact that I keep her in coke and Vera Wang and turns a blind eye while I fuck my interns because hey, I give the President ethnic credibility and boy howdy, a Filipino guy who speaks without an accent is the perfect front man to have as the U.S. begins it’s next stage on the war for neo imperialism in Asia.

So yeah, I need to get back to work. All in all, being a grown up sucks mutant lion testicles. All three of them.

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