Hangover Confidential
The Girth is in town. We met up last night and threw down a few. I've been fighting a cold, so was not really as animated and engaged as I hope to be. I was sort of distressed to hear him say there's some significant support for Bush's wartime-powers wiretapping defense within the Law School cotire.
Pawing around some borrowed internet -- sometimes the neighbor's signal comes through well enough to web-surf from bed -- I see that the groundlings are hard at work on the possibility of an Alito filibuster. This is good, but I also agree with Mr. Stoller, that the establishment blew it on this one, and that this "Fillibuster" smells like an act of political theater to keep the Party's base from tuning out in disgust. Particularly innefectual in all this have been the likes of PFAW and NAARL, who have made the Supreme Court a core part of their reason d'etre for more than a decade.
I go into this because I'm trying to design a career arc for myself, and being some kind of change-agent remains fairly important to me. Questions of how, where and under what terms to interface with established institutions (like the Democratic Party) are somewhat prominant in my mind.
Over dinner last night, Frank and Laura were talking about the possibility of leaving New York to start married life. Though it was a little surprising, it makes sense to me. Unless you're pulling down big money in Manhattan or you've got a pile of cash in trust or inheratence, it doesn't make a lot of sense to try and start a business enterprise or a family here.
That level of seriousness is contagious in your peer group, and I have to admit that I don't have much in the way of a plan for my future. I'm not freaking out at this point because I feel like 26 is still sort of young, and I'm not having any trouble survivng. But I crave the feeling of progress, the idea that my life's efforts are building towards something.