September 12, 2002


Woke up this morning with firm resolve. Blood like steel. The uncertainties had been replaced by absolutes overnight. I caught myself singing a heavy dance beat of unknown origins, and knew I needed to spoon some music in my ears whist sitting here working.

But who? The decision was of upmost importance. Who can sum up my emotions in as many notes? Who captures the American essence that I am so passionate to defend?

The Beach Boys. 1969. Surf bums drivin’ up and down the shore looking for lovely ladies. Spoiled rotten California kids in fancy cars. An example of the Great Injustice of America, given all those downtrodden who were not granted the opportunity to be surf bums? Proof that we need to further our hand-wringing over who has the better culture?

Nope. A beautiful example of freedom and free will. Some people decide to sing about Californ-eye-aye and Surf Camp. Others decide to blow up Jews. One of these has a future. The other does not.

Time will not wait for me

Time is my destiny

Why change the part of me that has to be free

The love that passed me by

I found no reason why

I can breakaway from that lonely life

And I can do what I wanna do

And breakaway from that empty life

And my world is new

We’ve got somethin’ good going on over here. Let’s keep it that way.