Can I Get A Copy For My Blog?

Lately, I haven't had the urge, desire, want or need to blog. In between all the things that I need to do and all the things that I want to do, blogging comes in pretty low priority-wise. There are a few reasons for this. One is that I'm really getting away from electronics and focusing on things that use human power rather than electricity or oil. I'm gearing up for the great energy crisis, I guess. So, I ride my bike. Max and I go for walks. My musical exorcises/exercises are released on acoustic instruments for the most part. My TV viewing and computer surfing are minimal. Who has time to do all that and still have a relationship with Bubala as well?

My other main "blog resistance" issue comes from the idea that "all you blog can and will be used against you in the court of life." So, I'm a little weirded out that, not only is big brother watching and taking notes, but little sister, Aunt Shirley, Grandpa Joe, Cousin Morgahide, Punky Lazaar, my boss and that demon girl, Vicki who joined the Love Boat as Captain Stubbings daughter could all be reading along, and that's kind of unsettling to me. I want to share, but on the other hand, it's watch what you say or they'll be calling you a radical, a liberal, a fanatical criminal, a name dropper.

So, I was watching an old Laurie Anderson video, and it kind of hit me all at once what I should do about this problem. It took a little while for me to work this idea out though, because it's against the law in this country and you have to go through a friend who has a friend who knows this guy whose cousin has contacts. (Kind of like some drug deals.) Finally, however, I got hold of a team of underground scientists who work in shady laboratories (like crack houses) to agree to clone me. Now, I have been wanting to do this for some time. Being a Pieces, I really enjoy my solitude, and there are some days that I don't want to go to work, I don't want have a dog, I don't want to have a lover, I don't want to be me, etc. The role of Mumi just sometimes seems too difficult, and I feel like I was miscast. You know, like most of Keanu Reeves' movies. So, to have a clone would be ideal. I worked with the scientists to enhance certain things, you know to make the clone better than the real thing. Things like being a great conversationalist who has excellent people skills. Someone who doesn't hate himself most of the time. Someone who plays well with others.

In addition to sending my clone off to do things that I just don't want to do, I can also send him off to do things that I want to do but I can't because I want to do something else at the same time. For example, my buddy, Greg, always wants me to go to Titan on Fridays, but after a week of work, I kind of just want to get away from people and relax and turn myself off for a while. So, now I can just send my clone in my place. I'm sure he'll have a better time than I would. He drinks and then he gets brave and social. I don't. I can also get him to write blogs for me. So, that way, if his blogs are offensive, or if he says the wrong thing like "George W. Bush, one of these days I'm going to cut you into tiny little pieces," and the feds come knocking on my door, I'll just say that the clone wrote it and that he stole it from a Pink Floyd song. And, if they say that clones are illegal in the United States, I'll just say, "Well there he is, arrest him. I only steal from Supertramp songs myself. Max and I are going for a walk now, buh-bye." I won't care if they arrest my clone because I'll be knowing the whole time that the scientists have a master clone and they can replace my clone any time.

Which reminds me, about a year ago, Bubala and I went up to Philly to see a Salvador Dali exhibit. It was one of the first retrospectives of his work in the US in like 40 years. Works were gathered from all over the world for this exhibit. You could feel his presence there, and as we walked around, Bubala and I jumped into a few of his paintings and in one painting, Dali came to us and said, "I hope you wiped you feet off before jumping in and out of my paintings like that." I assured him that we had and then, in a rare moment, I pulled Dali close to myself and I asked him, "Dali, in your great genius, tell this stupid white guy from the US suburbs, what is the meaning of life." (Yes Bubala, this would have been a good time to be taking some pictures!)

Dali whispered into my ear "Etre Dieu."

Thanks to all of you who sent well wishes for our 10th anniversary. It really meant a lot to me. PEACE