--

"You look about tired as I feel, lad." Said Homeless Pete, putting down his Big Issue magazines.
"I'm not tired - it's a bad leg. I like your badge."
"You do, right? Free Palestine! It's a darn shame and a right disgrace and what's more it's darn ironic. But nobody can say the obvious. It's a world of double standards, double meanings and smoke and mirrors. Nobody tells it like it is. You know what we need? A bloody revolution. Out with the lot of them - banks and cars and politicians. Go back to what's good and real, to a bit of farming, yeah? That's why I say we need a revolution. Get it on! Yeah? Well, that's today's rant. Oooh. Had to get all the anger out."

(-the Anarchists have lost their jobs)

The sun shines bright on the emerald lawns of an Oxford college. Through black iron gates' bars with golden spearhead tops, I see Jack Wills' toffs and the perfect future wives of Tory politicians play badminton with great white Trident smiles. It could have made a perfect postcard or a scene from a movie.

Sometimes, old Oxford town gives me that rotten homeless for Christmas feeling, that bankrupt window-shopping gut ache. Depressing like a woman that is too beautiful and too high to notice that you exist.

Brad Phillips

"It takes a special kind of eyes to see a special kind of beauty," the creepy guy said in a flash that briefly lit up all his neruons and connected all his circuitry, like a simulation on one of Mrs. Sylva's documentaries. "Many people can not see this. But in nature and in the quiet places, there is very repairing something, no?"

The circuit burned fast like the flash and thunder of a nearby bolt and everything went sort of dark again after that.

Shirin Neshat, Women of Allah 

"Women make big problem for the men. I have a personal story for this. My grandfather, he had two wives. My father saw how much he suffered and had only one wife. I saw how much he suffered, so now I have no wife."

Shirin Neshat, Women of Allah 

It's Jordan, of course.

- Eric Drooker

"You're not going anywhere," Mom said yesterday over dinner. "You need to start thinking about something that makes sense."

I know a lot of people who have expected me to change: the friends who never gave up hoping, all my ex-girlfriends, both parents, some relatives, a few of the dogs. I've been told to grow out of it, that it was just a phase or drop the part that I was only acting. I've heard a thousand preacher's speeches. They pushed a dozen different cures.

Travelling isn't something I have to do to get out my system. This restlessness is my system. It is no more a disease than the beating of my heart. What's more, I'm afraid the latter is much easier to cure.

So, go on:

Guess where I'm going next.

-James R. Bingham

I was 21 years when I wrote this song

I'm 22 now but I won't be for long