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The sermon for Sept. 23, 2004 is: my life in the ghost of Bush 2:22 p.m. Dear Diary: well, hello. I had originally fired up yon dusty Computer to come straightaway to you, and write about my distress and spew my bile and hopefully rid myself of this psychic contagion, this fucking meme that's infected me; but, as with everything else I've essayed in my long life, I got distracted. Specifically, I started to check the hundred or so different email accounts I use to correspond with; and after exploring novel things to do with my penis and investigating ways that I can make money from home, managed to dispel my anomie and spew my bile on many, many, many emails to my unsuspecting and unfortunate friends; which brings me to you, dear Diary, with my specific ill-eases dispelled and my mighty inspiration dispirited. I find myself in what may well be le condition Americain, specifically: bored with the quotidan, unmoved by all the brand spanking new TV shows moving across my peripheral vision, and unaccountably and deeply pissed off about how immensely fucked up our country's leadership, government, and overall visionary promise has become. As a momentary ex-pat. I was rather bemused at how personally outlanders seemed to take the relationship the United States of America has with her co-inhabitants; it was a commonplace, at breakfast, for example, to have to suddenly and substantively defend My Nation's Manifest Destiny and so on and so on, debating over grapefruit and newspapers with at-one-time pleasant breakfasters. I plead ignorance. I plead alienation. I plead special deferment on account of my poetic sensibilities and my homeland's obstreporousness in recognising my own individual choices as civilly binding ones. But back here, it suddenly PISSES ME OFF that my country is not my homeland. And the quality of this pissed-offedness is not one that I can articulate in email; so, dear Diary, I turn to you, oh catalogue of my incoherent rants. Tell me: how can one endure in a supposed democracy that is slowly and recognisably transforming itself into a police state? The project of the United States -- as I guess I've envisioned it; and this is admittedly a blinkered, na�ve point of view -- is an Enlightenment experiment: a government free of tyranny, a government fundamentally and principally opposed to the idea of tyranny... I won't go on. It's all because of certain movies (Fahrenheit 9/11; Persons of Interest; Undeclared; The United States Vrs. David Hicks) that I've seen that I presently have this frankly unamerican attitude.
 
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