Wednesday, April 20, 2005


When I come in Raven is lying on his back on the table with is eyes closed and his feet in the air.

Rave, what's going on? Is this a new meditation technique?

He opens one beady eye.

"I should be so lucky as to be transported to an ashram in rural India--where the cows poop impunely and there are NO cars!"

I noticed that they began honking again a few hours ago when I was going to the bakery.

"Did you happen to stop at a travel agency?"

No, Rave. I'm sorry. I was just trying to get a few provisions before I went to class.

"Don't these folks know that between noise pollution and an incompetent president there is very little to choose?"

It's pretty low consciousness, I'll grant you that. But they did put up a pretty nice website to protest. Probably nobody here is visiting it, though. I saw the link on the Venezuela site.

"Of course they're not visiting it! If they were visiting the website, they wouldn't all be in the streets burning up fossil fuel and HONKING!"

Raven rolls over and inches toward the computer.

"Did you write down the site?"

I hand him my notebook, open to the correct page, and turn on the t.v.

Protestors are barely visible behind the clouds of tear gas.

In the Congress, several guys are demanding that the president be tried politically for incompetent.

"For being no Hugo Chávez", Rave opines.

Indigenous men and women in hats speak to the reporter in halting Spanish. One very articulate leader indicates the need for indigenous representation in the Supreme Court.

Raven is cackling to himself in front of the screen.

"The photo of Gutierrez with Botame (Kick me out) is great."

Outside, the honking continues.

A reporter from Chile who was covering the protest march died from a heart attack after being tear-gassed.

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