Look, I'm not trying to start a fight with anybody, let alone Michelle, but I'm very miffed with what I've been reading here lately. I feel that I should give you my insights as to why Obama's inauguration was a big deal, why people have high hopes for him, and why all of us should come together to celebrate it.


I watched his inauguration on channel 5 yesterday. I felt that it was very moving. I cried a bit. Yep. Big ol' me. I watched the procession of "important" people; I was actually surprised that no one booed Bush when he came out; I listened to the speech that is sure to start a new chapter in the way the presidency will be conducted from now on.

To fully understand where I'm coming from here, I'll share with you all some background of my past:
My mother was born in Florence, Italy. Most of you know that. What most of you don't know, is that she could have stayed in Italy. Easily. Before she left for the states, she had a very lucrative job with the local RCA television company's laboratories. At 23 years old, she was making more money, in 1973, in Italy, than a lot of us are making now. She decided that for her sake as a young woman, and for the sake of her future child, which was of course myself, she would venture from her home, where 5 generations of her family lived, and go to America to begin what she believed would be the best life she could have possibly lived. She stayed in the northeast, around the New York and Buffalo area for a few years, then moved around to Chicago and Houston, before finally ending up here with my dad. She loved Italy with all her heart, but she always told me that, without fail, of all the countries she's been to, that America was by far the best place to live. She cherished every day that she was here, all 35 years of it. She knew that there was a long road ahead for the country, and especially for young people like us. There was still hatred among us; hell, there were still people that I graduated high school with that still hadn't gotten used to the fact that I'm of mixed race. But she knew that the young people like us would change things around, that we would get our heads screwed on straight, and help lead the country in a new direction. As many times as she was unsure of me and my friends being a fully fledged adult, she knew that when the time came, we would rally as one, and proclaim to the world that we are ready to lead.

That time came on a cold, sunny Tuesday morning in January 2009.

I have no doubts that Obama will have to re-neg on some of his promises. That's human nature. Those in power will say a lot of things to placate those without, and those without power will undoubtedly demand more than can be delivered, merely for the fact that they feel that they had it "owed" to them. I do feel that this country "owes" me something, especially after the rather specious events that transpired in the last eight years. I'm not knocking former president Bush's ability to "make the tough decisions". But his decisions were not inspired by, nor formally approved by the people of this nation. Not many of us remember what it was like when Clinton came into office. I would imagine that it was a lot like today. People unsure of how the country would turn out, but knowing that a change was needed. History is the judge of how he achieved that change, and how effective it was. But it is also our interpretation of history that helps us decide whether or not he was successful. I personally felt that the country prospered, grew, and became a mighty symbol of what the human spirit can accomplish given the right conditions to grow. My mother was quite a history buff, and she told me once that of all the presidents she studied while in school, and while studying to pass her immigration trials, she always felt that Clinton was by far the best she had ever known. I know that this phrase has been hashed into a hundred different kinds of baloney, but it rings true with me: we needed change then. We needed change now. We voted for change. And, like it or not, we will change.





There's a reason I decided to permanently etch the flags of Italy and America into my skin, to be there forever on my body until my dying breath. I know some people would say "yeah, it's just a tattoo." But not me. These two flags not only symbolize the heritage from which I came, but also the pride that I feel when I say that I'm an American. I have a lot of pride for Italy; what country can say that they revamped all of human culture twice? But I feel more pride for the great nation of the United States of America, because we have proven, time and time again, that even though we are a young country, there is no other greater place to live and grow and laugh and learn and love. We've had our fair share of problems, and yes, we do tend to strong arm our way into business with other nations, but I have always felt that it was always done with a greater goal in mind; a singular, globular purpose that is too large to be seen by one citizen. This nation is steering the earth in a new direction. What direction that is, none of us can say. There is no one person in this world who can tell what the course of mankind will be. It is a matter of faith that we will do what is right for all of us, not just us here inside our borders. But I have no reservations, and no doubt in my mind, that America will be the driving force behind that course. This country chose to open its borders to anyone willing to work to be its citizen. If the country's forefathers had not insisted on this, then a young woman from Florence would have never had the chance to start a new life, and a big, hairy, weird kid would not be in the best situation that has ever existed for anyone in his whole family today. I love America with all my heart, and I would die to keep anyone from interfering with the way of life that all of my friends enjoy. I will say that I am not one to serve in our military. But that's because I feel that living the way of life that all of our previous citizens died for is just as important as fighting for it.

The reason why Obama's inauguration is important, is because of two things. Firstly, it shows that we, as a nation, are willing to look past a lot of our coloring differences to see what a person has to offer. As old, crotchety, and strange as McCain was, had he and Obama been running for office fifty years ago, he would have won easily. Second, it shows that the people of this country can rally together for the good of the nation, and end the cycle of useless pandering that has been prevalent in years past.

As I said before, no one knows where Obama will take us. We need to leave that to him and his cabinet. But I will forever be proud of us and this country for what we have accomplished this last few months. What some of you don't seem to realize, is that this is the first, and largest step that this country has ever taken since a group of men sat down with Thomas Jefferson to finalize a document to end British rule. This isn't a big deal to the rest of the world; It's a big deal to us. I find it frankly appalling that one of us here on xanga has the gall to say "so what?" to the fact of Obama's inauguration. I take no issue of her freedom to say it, but I do take issue with the fact that those two words show the utter lack of enthusiasm, fervor, and above all intelligence, that has been the trademark of hard working Americans for decades. You say "so what?" I say "so there."

Yeah, I know I haven't been on here in a while. What's it to you?

Anywhoozles, got some exciting (to me) news that rocks out with all its cocks out. My good friend and graphic artist ninja Rick and I have decided to sell handmade t-shirts. He recently finished a press that can allow us to do a four color design, or four single color designs all in one space. We plan to sell the shirts at anime and comic conventions (and of course on the intarwebs) throughout the great state of Texas. We are tentatively trying to get space reserved for one down in Houston in December. We are thinking about getting some sort of company set up, though it's insanely complicated. Our shirts will focus on all of the witty ideas that go through our heads on a daily basis. I'm also thinking of holding contests with prizes such as awesome one of a kind (literally, like only one is being made) t-shirts, or other types of apparel, or maybe a punch in the craw. Depends on how i feel that day. Or maybe a special contest for making a design that we think is awesome, then the person who made it will get a chunk of that sweet sweet douchebag t-shirt pie.

This is going to be TITS huge. Seriously. Tell all your friends, and your grandmother. And then make them buy t-shirts. And you should buy a couple too. They're very reasonably priced. Unless they're complicated. Or unless I feel like charging you more. But that's only if you're a dick. You get a discount for the showing of the tits.

Whoo! T-shirts! Tits! DO IT!

Being bored at work as I usually am, I have been thinking about a lot of things to occupy my time.


Rob and I went to go see Lewis Black last night at the Bass Hall. First off, if you don't know who Lewis Black is, go fuck yourself. Seriously. You all should know by now. So anyway, we went to Bass Hall to see him perform. It was an awesome show. No complaints there. My irk lies in the type of people we were witness to. I realize that this is a comedian known for his slightly psychotic, curse-laden rants. I know that the average Lewis Black fan does not always understand the details of his comedy, but usually gets the underlying humor. However, as surreal as the situation might be, it's still the Bass Hall. It's still a multi-million dollar, world-beating, technological marvel. Don't fucking show up in jeans and a t-shirt. Don't show up looking like you just came from a Motorhead concert. Don't valet park your 6,000 pound piece of shit F-250 so that you can prove just how much of an asshole everyone think you are. It ain't exactly the Moscow ballet, but for fuck's sake, show some class. Christ. Shit like that is why Fort Worth will never be taken seriously as a worldly city. Because of dumb assholes like that, we will always be looked upon as a bunch of redneck retards. It doesn't matter that we have a world class opera hall that's considered one of the best modern halls ever built. Nor the fact that our zoo has been ranked in the top 10 family-oriented zoos in the country. Don't forget that we also have two famous art museums; one being a masterwork for Louis Kahn, and the other being the oldest art gallery in the state of texas, also considered a defining work of its architect. All of this to go with being the fifth largest city in Texas, with over 700,000 people calling it home. All of that is overshadowed by the omnipresent idocracy that emanates and engulfs the entire region. Having a functionally retarded president from our state doesn't help much either. I've been to quite a few countries overseas, and almost half of our states. I have not encountered one soul in all my travels that knows what or where Fort Worth is. They get a good sense when I tell them it's next to Dallas. They get all "ahh, I see" and "oh, so that's where it is" like it's some mythical beast that disappears whenever they look at a map. It's a bit frustrating. In summary, I hate you all.

It's a lobster claw game!

I've been thinking again, and it pisses me off, again. The good weather we've been enjoying, while nice, brings up sort of painful feelings for me. Not necessarily painful memories, but generally feelings of hardship, loneliness, and longing. The issue with my mother is long since resolved; these feelings I feel have been with me for quite some time.

Though I am a person naturally suited to solitude, that doesn't mean I necessarily enjoy being alone by myself. This particular time of year tends to make it difficult, as this is my favorite time of year. The cool breezes, the golden sunset evenings, and the saturated color landscapes of the metroplex soothe me on a primal level; a respite from the harshness and chaos that is my life away from all of you, my friends. The uncertainty I feel at home, and in public, it fills me constantly with grief, anger and the feeling of never being able to leave it behind no matter what I try. All I ask for for myself, from the world, is a chance to unwind; a chance to loosen my collar; a way to let go of the stress that is slowly but surely killing me, both literally and figuratively. Drama aside, I know that if I can't find a way to alleviate these problems, I will shut down one day. There are times when my only respite is to scream myself hoarse, until it becomes physically exhausting, and only then can I let go of whatever it was that started it in the first place, be it a major problem, or something as simple as missing a favorite t-shirt, not realizing that it was in the laundry room.

This time of year, and it's good climate, bring up those feelings of loneliness that I've had to deal with for years. Sometimes all I'd like is to share my thoughts and feelings with someone else. Having an outlet such as this is cathartic, yes, but this is still a public space, abd there are things that I can only share with others in a face to face setting. Thinking about all of the times I've tried to connect with someone on a deeper basis seems only to aggravate my condition. The lying, the false promises, the failing of the other ones to recirpocate, it all adds up. Every one of those "happy people" I see adds another fifty pounds to my shoulders, and a hundred years to my mental well being.





Look at these douchebags. God.



It pisses me off to no end. Are we doomed to roam this earth wothout so much as a sympathetic ear to use? I mean friends and journals are nice, but they can't give you blowjobs and rub your shoulders, at least without getting wierded out.






When is it going to be this easy?




It's frustrating to say the least. I envy people who can make small talk for hours on end. I'm always stuck with nothing to say, and every reason to say it. Nothing seems to come easily for me. I want to sometimes just be; just exist for a period of time. All of the other people I've tried to connect with just don't seem to get it. I'm either too boring, or too crazy, or too manic-depressive, or too myself.

I guess I'm not sure where exactly I'm going with this; I've lost my train of thought a  couple of times. I'm sitting here at Starbucks, watching people come and go. Hating them for not seeming to give a rat's ass about a lonely kid sitting at a laptop, pouring his heart out while drinking coffee. Hating myself for not trying to connect with these people, some of whom might actually be in the same boat as me, yet wanting so badly to be one of them; one of the "happy people," one of the people who've never had to forge themselves into who they are out of sheer defiance for what live gave and took from them; one of the people who can let themselves be molded and pushed and formed into something that everyone likes, and evryone leaves alone.

There's so much for me to say, and no possible way to coherently put it into words, so I guess I'll stop here for now. Since it's easier to teach than to do, I'll leave you all with this: no matter how confused you are at a particular time, never forget and never regret who you have become. If you wish to change, that's fine. But don't dwell on the past too much, or you can find yourself unable to escape it. And yes, I don't take my own advice.