Sunday mornings in Philly with lovely psuedo strangers whom are connections to a time in my recent past, a past that I miss and despise alternatively, I guess it depends more on what part of the past I am thinking about. Nice psuedo strangers who could aslo be called psuedo friends who could also be called friends, lovers, and companions. Psuedo people who walk the line of labelling like tightrope walkers cross circus rings to the thunder of appluase from thousands of screaming children and bloated over worked parents who just want the best for their kids. These tightrope walkers really impress me, maybe its envy, maybe its not anything thats anything new, just more of what was, maybe its just repeating that same old mantra of desire moments rationality overthinking passion and cockroaches. Cockroaches in kitchen sinks.

The world wakes up at 9:16am on Sundays in West Philly and turns on NPR to learn about the drastic shortage of midwives in Afghanistan and how America, George Walker Bush, wants to use South Korea as a model for the future of Iraq and as I lay listening to that report this morning adn heard the different voices of military analysts, senators, media spokespersons, all men, ring out across Julia's bedroom I heard no mention of all the sexual assualts committed by American Soldiers in South Korea, no talk of the 13 year old gir run overl by a tank a few years back, no mention of the correalation between longterm military bases and the growth of prostitution in those areas. Not a single women's voice, save the reporter, was heard. Not a single women's voice who is critical of the effects of long term military bases on local communities will be be heard, I bet, amongst the clamoring for a way out of Iraq that is popular with the public, that sounds good to the general ear, to ears and minds that have forgotten history, have forgotten what has happened.

Good morning Philly, Good morning South Korea, Good morning Iraq.