What Is Democracy?

I'm out for presidents to represent me...

President

\Pres"i*dent\, a. Occupying the first rank or chief place; having the highest authority; presiding. [R.]

His angels president in every province. --Milton.

I sit before you, in front of my mirror, and am pleading for you to understand that something's wrong. What it is, is up to you to decide.

Pero coño, broder something's always been wrong. Down here in the Low East Side, which is the state of mind I write from despite my exile in the slope of the petit bourgeoisie, there is relentless existential mierda. It doesn't help to be a screaming target, either. The youth is big, but programmed by the media not to understand.

Okay, regarding the latest threat...

The New York Times > Washington > Bin Laden Is Said to Be Organizing for a U.S. Attack

This works on all levels to the advantage of the Homeland Security Team. Either there is real threat, which will swing voters to Bush, instead of some mythical Spanish pseudo-socialist government, or there is a manufactured threat, which will swing voters to Bush. Get this...they want to attack Edwards because he's a trial lawyer. Kerry obviously should have picked a...prosecutor.

Love and Rockers
The Ricanstruction record release party (downstairs) at the CBGB Gallery was subversively cool and will probably not turn up on a list of things I read.
The New York Times > National > Republican-Led House Defeats Effort to Curb Patriot Act
I felt among my peeps sipping that Sam Adams that Juan Sánchez bought me, feelin' the fire of Albizu. Tatobrujo y RZR came through with a rumored copy of Chango's Fire . Not 4 Prophet made sure I understood that this album was all about the love.

We're hoping there's an uprising in the works. Brief chat with hermano Arévalo reveals that there always is and I should chill out about it. The Colombian connection never seems to stop. Apparently he has assembled world-class production team documenting Lucia, Ivan, etc. and is waiting for the legendary Alexandra P. of Natibo fame (their relentless quest of ballenas jorobadas coming to a close, hopefully not with some spectacular Uribe photo-op in the offing, but perhaps unavoidable given the investment climate).

De repente I did have an arepa-filled breakfast at La Pequeña Colombia, thinking about Manuel de Dios, on an extremely quiet Monday morning, part of the weird fallout from July 4 on Gilgo Beach, with an Ecuadorean waiter correctly serving the perico (note to DEA, perico is a dish in which eggs are mixed with various vegetables) patiently fielding my passable Spanish. I remembered Villa de Leyva on the way to the bathroom.

Michael P. was rather introspective on July 4, as I imagine most of you were.

I was hoping to forget most of it, slogging along the beach in the dark, shooting across some bay highway while long island police cops warned against it. I remembered the signs that alerted fast BMWs to recent immigrant families crossing route 5 near San Diego.

But anyway, back to that weird Ricanstructing night, the 6 train was missing J-Lo as I sped to a rendezvous with Carlitos, something of a spiritual homeland. I felt bad when Eliana admonished me for not dancing to Very Be Careful. But i just didn't have it in me that night. I was happy to see Ricardo, who had recently announced his marriage to Lina

Aviso de L_R.mov

Ricardo used to live in the same neighborhood in Londres as Phil Manzanera and he's got a good soul and Hector and Andrea I guess laughingly recommended he read my book about us pathetic Spanglish people (hey, we're taking over) but I think he made the right move. After all, Nueva York is the place to be, cierto?



All my pelados say Ho!