I am now blogging

I remember in college there was a massive craze for Xanga blogs and I was convinced to get one. I think it might still be up; gosh yes it still is. Of course I couldn't have a straight blog, contrary creature that I am, so I decided to write a series of interconnected vignettes of an absurdist nature. If anyone does visit that blog and read it, I do apologize for the terrible colour scheme. Naturally, Mufti is me and Pastor Pierre is my good friend Pierre from my Masters program. I don't know and don't ever want to know who the hell Supercat is. You'll have to ask Pierre about that.

Blogging is silly. This blog might well die before I even get to Los Angeles because I find myself bored with it or not feeling like spending time writing it because I'm having too much fun. I doubt anyone apart from me will feel too deprived. I will try to stick with it though, just because it is an interesting creative writing exercise. I'm going to try to be as loose as possible in any case, dashing off a post whenever I can. I'm just afraid that the blog will devolve into something like "Hey, I'm in Des Moines! It's great! I'm at this bar! Their wifi sucks!" Okay, perhaps with less exclamation points but you get the picture. I think the next time I post on here I will try to write about the three major road trips that I've taken in the past, just to see whether what I write is even readable or is just boring.

First past the post

That's how one wins an election in America. I think the proper name is plurality voting system. Other countries have it too although none of them have the convoluted electoral college. America's system does ask a lot from the people running for office. Perhaps that's why that's all they are good at instead of actual governing. The permanent campaign which characterizes today's politics in America is more because of that than anything else.

Let me stop pontificating like I just finished reading The Economist. I certainly have an odd relationship with this country. When I moved here in September 2000, I had a very negative image of America. Some would say that's because I landed at Detroit International in Romulus, Michigan on a very rainy and cold day in September. My uncle's car almost got swallowed by a giant water-filled pothole on I-94. I'm sure that pothole is still there. The city looked like it had been bombed a few years prior and was now on a very slow road to recovery. But of course the real reason is that America's standing in the world, as terrible as it now is, wasn't really all that great back then either.

Somehow though, I love this country. More of why will become clear now that I'm undertaking this road trip, in the grand tradition of driving cross-country. I'm doing it twice over the course of four or five weeks, and of course in a newer but also grand tradition, I'm hoping to blog about it on a rather regular basis on this instead of writing in my trusty road trip diary. That diary, which will nevertheless accompany me for when I have to write nasty things about people that might read this blog, was bought at a Barnes & Noble in 2001 before I undertook my first great American road trip (when I moved from Detroit to Oklahoma via an outlandish detour to Philly). It has the imprint of my face as I fell asleep at a closed Burger King in Wichita, Kansas waiting for my friend to get off work. It also contains a short story I wrote about a piano lesson at the house of my friend Scott's parents in Oklahoma City after I'd wrecked his car in New Mexico. It's been through a lot and I do think I'll utilize it for more private reflection. You laugh because you know me, and I'm not very private, so yes, most of it will end up here.

First post is past the post.