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Let’s look outward briefly, there’s an election on next week in the USA, it’s quite important, some Americans are surprised and miffed that foreigners are worried about the outcome and trying to bring a little intellectual pressure to bear, like I wonder if Iraqis aren’t feeling a bit miffed that they didn’t get much say in the last American election which has had some small influence on their lives, but anyway I predict a victory for Bush and more of the same, because like in Oz people are more interested in money than ethics, though I’m not sure that Bush has done so well domestically as this Howard government has. Enough politics, shall we talk about sex, I don’t expect to get any for the rest of my life, shall we talk about something else? Last night I watched Six Feet Under and they’ve been dealing inter alia with different forms of jealousy, the loud demonstrative Latino form with catscratching and destruction of property and the slow-burning form with the occasional explosion of unreasonableness but still I don’t get it, the jealousy thing, and Sarah tells me she’s not interested in hearing ever again my theories of non-possessive, non-exclusive love, so that I can’t even tell her that I don’t play with theories about such things, that it’s not an intellectual game, all I try to do is observe my heart, my sensations, my being and try to make sense of it, and I just don’t feel this jealousy thing and I naturally wonder about it, why and what it is, and why people feel so uncomfortable about this lack in me and is it that I’m incapable of love, but I know for sure I can get obsessed with one person, heartsqueezily painfully, while tinkering around with sexual fantasies of others around the edges, like I was reading stuff on Bjork the other day, in the Big Issue, and there were a couple of pickies of her worth drooling over, ah futility I need to get out more, buy a stepometer, yesterday at work I arranged with Rob L to buy a mountain bike off him, a bargain at $100 he says, and he’s even going to lend it me for a week before I decide to buy, could be the start of the big turnaround to eternal youth and virility before I die. Canine implants next. And what about a cure for my acid tum, and lately, Sarah tells me this is another sign of middle age, lately I’ve been suffering burning throbbing pains on the soles of my feet, yes your old feet start to get thin-skinned, but hey genius doesn’t complain, genius just runs straight against the wind, wonder how old Kierkegaard was when he wrote that. Well now time to get off here, my bum’s too flat, time to clean my teeth and floss and shave my head and maybe my pubes and think about exercise and going to the gym which I definitely won’t do.