Hello, how have you been?

Albatross.

Sounds so Western.

Let the bird fly.

Says the sage from the East.

Exurbian Walkthrough

Deed restricted. No entry. No outlet. Cul de sac. Dead end. Subdivision. Gated community.

Keep "them" out, preserve my privilege, feed my fears, wave my flag, save my people, Jesus saves, Moses invests, walk my dog, close my blinds, hide my warts, polish my silver, lock my doors, draw the curtains, hush my lips, shout my should, mow my lawn, pave my driveway, clip your wings, keep your distance, fly my banner, sing my smirk.

This is the vocabulary of dystopia.

This is the geography of nowhereland.

This is the landscape of Disurbia.

Now Hear This

The Guardian has seen fit to review my book, BASEBALL'S STARRY NIGHT. Going international. Oh yeah.

income distribution

Speaking of income disparity, I invite you to enhance my revenue stream of legal tender. Plus, you'll enjoy the narrative.

Power to the fans!

#OWS

In a weird, extended-metaphor sense, AlbatrossDreams presaged and foreshadowed the Occupy Wall Street movement. I'm not saying this as a megalomaniac, or maybe I am. But it is true in the sense that my very first post at this blog mocked income disparity, shallow abundance, and income disparity -- especially as embodied in real estate.

I admit, however, that saying something about that or writing about it is not the same as doing something about it. Or maybe it is. After all, isn't writing or saying a form of doing?

Just saying.

Or writing.

Or doing.

prescient

If you look at my first post here, I guess I was rather prescient about the coming collapse in 2008.

Sort of.

Indirectly.

I dare you to read this

I dare every Member of Congress to read this and challenge any zealot to refute its FACTS:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/15/opinion/stop-coddling-the-super-rich.html

Come on.

Refute this data, supplied by a billionaire.

I'm waiting.