on the future of identity and the rice krispy trail of completeness

when the confines of the nation-state as we know it tumble down like hammer blows upon Berlin, in whose ocean will you leave me to drown? i'm waving my hands - HELLO! instead of internationalized, you've got sesenta international eyes sizing up and down, expecting an avalanche of dreamsicles and chupa chups. i thought they were a Honduran delicacy, but they're just as universal as tamarind treats and iced shavings in your morning coffee pick-up lines. soooooo, lady - do you take it black, white, or a tad bit in between? i've been indoctrinated with some racial/chromatic(al) pluralism, but all i can offer you is the homogeneity of Mamaroneck and Willow Grove and some Hillsborough-ish version of what life *should* be. i want to impose some categorical imperative, no-thought-required-surrender-your-will-at-the-hawker-stall-entrance with rows of gallus gallus de-beaked of dignity. no,

wait.

that's something i've left behind. yes, there was a flight, or maybe three.. there was white and blue and turbulence and something about the bering straits, one bastard child of adam smith skippering through the seven seas aboard titanium vessels built atop cantonment tressels. eco-terrorists gone aquamarine ballistics, we've got new bunker blasters in the works -- smoke out dem' progressives from their think tanks!! liberals are not liberals, they're just insufficiently conservative.

forget it -- "g. gallus burning down the palace" is a freaky pandemic coming to a Lee Hsiong Noodle shop near you. Ahn Chay on my lips, Ahn Chay on the beak. bocal guillotines and livery performances. what happened to the backseat confessions and midnight compassion for cardboard carrying poster-children of a failed america? i let my compassion be bound in some unorthodox rationalism. no karma, no guilt, no SWEAT! our new economy is 15 perspiration and a 75/10 mix of recycled rainwater and gastric bypass juices.

it's 2;04AM in the New World - i salute you with my dim sum