Poker, December 7, 2006

It is all a blur of chocolate "chips" and Chinese peanut butter to me.  People sat in the wrong places and wore the wrong hats.  The Admiral dealt me three 6's during a hand of baseball, but I folded without revealing it.  Apocalypto. Spike had a good night.  TW did too, as he edged into second place.  It's 6:30 a.m.  I am uninspired.  I dreamed something forlorn about children growing up.  I have been practicing Transcendental Meditation since about 1972.  Yesterday, I sort of wished I'd been taught by the Maharishi himself, but then I remembered that I did indeed see the Maharishi at the Illinois Institute of Technology on a flower-strewn stage and he giggled a lot.  I think Timothy Leary was there, too.  Actually, I think may have gone to see Leary and got the Maharishi as a freebie.  I'm sure I have the details wrong but I'm not about to research it.  I do remember my hitchhiking trip to South America with some degree of detail, country by country, step by step, dialect by dialect.  The world has changed.  There is nothing left to discover, nothing left unspoiled, untainted by commercial enterprise, unplundered and virginal.  I do know that a game of Between the Sheets was played and that JD, taking the moral high ground against games of chance, stood it out.  The rest of the suckers, mostly me, fell into the vortex of carnival hopes and wagered their various chips.  Green ones were used.   We learned what "all in" means in betting.  Mary Cheney is pregnant.  The Bush twins are running naked in Argentina hotel hallways.  The Refusal to Invent.  The Definition of Anarchy: No Dominating Power, Mutual Aid, and the third thing... ?  Lee will know.  Tolstoy wrote his famous essay, The Kingdom of God is Within You.  You can look it up on Wikipedia.  It's 6:40 a.m.  My meditation will last 12-15 minutes.  Then I'll have another cup of coffee.  Although I am writing a very long and complicated book called "The Nineteenth Century," I may put the research and writing on pause for Christmas preparation. I haven't practiced Christmas in three years.  The book is about money.  The book is about East Bend.  I wish I could visit the Nineteenth Century.  You don't need money to get there.  It may be something yet unspoiled, untainted.  They didn't even have Coca Cola.  Time travel is possible.  The third rule of anarchy?  Might be love. Apocalypto starts today.