My mom think's I'm a Social Entrepreneur. Maybe she's right. I'm in a good mood about things in general. Won some money at poker last night, starting to get unbound and more in the flow of things. I'm just back from Punk Breakfast; a mission community venture where you get good leftovers from the kids for just a dollar. Great vibes there, great sunshine outside, great things happening in the world of work.

And Iowa happens tomorrow. This is where the rubber meets the road. I just got my camera hooked up, getting pictures downloaded. Here's my favorite:

Frank, the morning he shipped out to Iowa. Godspeed, my good man. Godspeed.

Biking up through the liberally aristocratic hills of San Francisco; cresting up to the part on top of Bernal Heights and walking up and over a pasture to discover an unubstructed panorama and a nice rock for sitting and taking it all in.

I come home to this: people in Minnesota gathering to work for Music For Ameirca on their own. We will go there at the end of the month. I'm very excited.

And there's Paul Krugman's Army, and me spouting a little fiery rhetoric. Reclaim the dignity of your own experience.

A new year and a new era dawning. Emergence from the old ways of thinking and a world of possibilities. There's a lot of stress around these days. Roommate buddy Dan is starting up the atkins diet. Frank and Joe are in the trenches and taking heavy fire on behalf of my man Dean. There's a lot of work yet to be done saving the world, and frankly on some days I'm not up to it.

I swung in in close to old flames back in New York, but it's left me with a new kind of calm. You can't go backwards. It's futile to try. Time's arrow is a one way thing.

Today I rode a little bike, and I lifted some weights last night, and I had my sister and her friends in town for a couple days. All conspiring to elevate my mood. It's the year of the Monkey; it's a time for vindication, for foundation, for progress. It feels like this year is maybe where the rubber meets the road. The most important thing is to stop struggling, let's let out the clutch, put it on rails, cut in the nitrus. It's time to bust, move like a goddamn mythical creature of some sort.

I feel hungry again. Hungry and sharp. I like it. Numbness is receeding. I feel as if a tumble is coming on, a roll if you will. This is the beginning of something.

Any of you outlandish readers know any outlandishly bright people who reside in or around Spaceship San Francsico who are tech-savvy and looking for part-time employment? I'm taking a stand against this bogus economy and hiring an assistant. Send resumes and whatnot my way.

Oh, and I'm back in California. And my sister is visiting. And it's good to be in my own bed. And the future is exciting.

I believe in the power of technology to organize political campaigns and discourse, but there comes a point were the meat comes into play. That time is now. My man Frank is in Southeastern Iowa campaigning for my man Howard Dean. I'm helping in what capacity I can from Spaceship San Francisco. If you are a Dean Supporter and you want to do something, help me help Frank. He's looking to get people in his precincts to take the plunge and go out to caucus. It's all about making the connection with them; helping them find one another, helping them feel like it's important enough to take the time out to do it.

So here's the deal. You get in touch with me (or Frank direct) and we write very very very targeted letters. We talk about how our good freind Frank is working hard in their area, and how it would be just so amazing if these people could get a group of people together to caucus, and how Frank and his cohorts will do whatever it takes to help them get there.

I'm going to write my letters this afternoon and I'll post my talking points here as a jumping off point for y'all. My thinking is that if we can get 10 friends of Frank to write 2 letters each, we might be able to swing 3 or 4 Iowans into going out to caucus. If we can do that, we can give Frank a major boost in his efforts.

I've been rocking out nearly continuously to this music -- plus liberal helpings of blackalicious -- thinking about the year 2004. Kim called me last night to remind me it was (officially) the year of the Monkey. Shit is changing though. I like my neo-hippy tribe, but I'm not sure we're really going all the places I want to go.

Which begs the question of where do I want to go. A biggie.

I've been more or less on the run, in the thick of something heavy that I still don't fully understand for the past 6 months. I want to keep this up, and I want to figure out how to get more of my creativity into the mix. I like the writing game, pump out a lot of words these days, but I want to get out and move, to juice with it, to perform, direct, dance laugh and train for the big show. I think sometimes about doing more audio work, maybe in conjunction with a new show. Being back here with Frank for a few days makes me think about the two of us teaming up to collaborate on something after the election is over.

And there's the question of living situations. It's kind of clear to me that I'm not going to stay in San Francisco past this year. Two many thinks clicked back on when I got back to the city; this is where I belong until I find someplace better. I want to travel. I want to visit my pa's farm in iowa. I want to build internet infrastructure in Bed-Stuy and maybe Ghana. I want to write that mannifesto; the book of praxis. I want to make flash animations. I want to be in love again. I want to join a gym. I want my zits to go away. I want the world and I want it now -- what else is new.

This is my second to last night in NYC for a while. I'm going to this politco event tonight, and tomorrow I'm going to see some theater and then ensconsing myself at Pete's Candy Store. Life turns like its on rails sometimes. Peace.

It's been a wild few days, but the party is drawing to a close. Tomorrow I'm back at it full time doublepluss. Met with Sasha the other night, which was by turns nervewracking, hillarious, messy, titilating, nostalgic, confusing, comforting, scary, sublime and most of all chock full of sighs. There's quite something between the two of us, but what any of it means specifically is beyond my ability to divine. I'm in town for a week, so resolution is unlikely. C'est la vie, I suppose.

So I took it easy today. I'm now camped in Frank's room while he solders on in Iowa, along with many others. Watched some football and some debates and Spirited Away. Thought about how to mix up the Kool Aid, and just what this year is going to mean. Big things are moving.

I took no pictures. Things sneak up on you sometimes. I wonder often why people treat me so well, what it is that I do which engenders kind acts in others. I'm a real asshole a lot of the time -- genetics more than anything -- though I do smile as often as I can. I've never considered myself popular, but I suppose within my circle I'm fairly well-liked. It helps when I can remember to breathe deep and relax my shoulders. Better things happen then.

Still grappling with how to listen and how to recieve (how to take) after all these years though. Often times it's someone else as Bhudda that reminds me to hew to the ethos. Somewhat less often that leads to deeper conversations, and one might find oneself making out on the kitchen counter. It's a little bit scary, but that's how one knows one is onto something.

A final thought. New Yorkers are some of the most decent people in all the world; those who grew up here and those who come and stay are head and shoulders above the crowd, I've noticed. The loosers come and go or stay underground, and in the sparkling crisp crowded night, you can see that regular people party well. We should be so lucky as to come together like this more often.

So there's gonna be a lot of party party, and I'm not sure I'm up to it all. Feeling a little bit off today; slipping a bit from the groove I've been in for the past few days. I think it was the fact that someone stole my bike last night -- clipped through the piece of shit cable lock I was using since someone lost my old kryptonite -- which ruined an otherwise stellar evening.

But this made me laugh. Serif fonts are making a comeback I think. Happy New Year, everyone. I'll take pictures.