The Bears

We have finally reached the threshold of a Bear Market, according to the New York Times, and it's all tied to oil. The Dow has dropped a thousand points in the last month, and while that makes me afraid to check my portfolio because some of that money floating in the ether is supposedly mine, I also find myself a little giddy. Maybe this is the point at which things will change. Probably not. Oil may drop drastically and everything will seem fine again. People may just return to the pumps as before. We forget that 100 years ago we could have gotten around just fine on the fantastic system of trains that ran across this country. Wouldn't it be nice to just jump on a train here in Aspen, and not have to rocket into the air in an aluminum tube with jets attached to its wings? I feel like smoking a cigarrette, and taking the day off work. It's beautiful here in the mountains, but I miss the city. I miss being surrounded by masses of humanity. I miss the smells, the smiles, the sprawl. Life is a mystery. I've experienced major insanity, and let me tell you, it's a whole lot more realistic than what we call reality. The world we've invented is a world of nonsense, a black and white world in the midst of a universe of color floating in a void. Insanity is a rebellion against the walls of psychotic culture, it makes one feel powerful and fills the soul with an indignation and a hope of something else. When that falls away, there is only culture floating in a void of possibilities. This culture is something solid, stinking, wretched, crushing our souls in the spinning disposal of separation. Good Morning America. Doesn't anyone hear the screams of our crushed soul? We are boiling our potential in this melting pot. Hope? Faith? Joy? Honesty? Love? Rebellion.