Soñaré con Bolívar

I hate alarm clocks and also the sanctimonious acrimony of morning people. I know that I dreamt about something important, but I can't remember it because proscribed morning awakening stole my dreams and the sound of the alarm stole my internal music.

Deek Deekster and Indigobusiness have posted findings by the WWF which says we're living way beyond our means. I feel pessimistic and stupid.

I am sick of drinking coffee every morning just so I can function at some sub-Sirena baseline which allows me to at least string together words that sound like boring, rational, professional American English -- American is a misnomer anyway. It should be United Statics or something. American is really meant to be inclusive of all of the topography and climates and people of the Americas from Cape Horn to the Queen Elizabeth Islands (and yes I taste the irony) and from Alaska to Haiti to Easter Island to the Malvinas. The Americas are the product of all of the cultures and institutions of the world coming together over time to repetively infect, love, murder and dance together -- in varying proportions.

What if we gave up our bullshit national identities (none of them are more than 300 years old) and became Americans -- as in from the Americas -- if we evolved into Bolivar's haunting dream?

We are proof of the survival of the betrayed and the freaks. We possess the potential to shrug off comfort and safety and to create our own salvation.

The question is...are we still tough enough?

(Image borrowed from Holy Trinity Catholic Church)