thursday its goodbye santa cruz. from this point, as a feeble measurement of movement, our car has covered 6591 milies of californian soil. thursday it LA, monday San Diego, the big question always once you`ve hit the road, is: why stop there?

so from thursday untill we land in DK utter silence on this blog.

two words,
google eearth

beyond beyond
http://earth.google.com/

today,
after having acknowledged the assimilation, a daytrip to a local highligh The Mystery Spot, reinforced my beliefs in life in outer space. Moreover it is a classic example of americana roadside culture, worth a visit, and not the least, the mystery remains unsolved.

Dont walk into the light man, dont walk into the light


spooky
http://www.mysteryspot.com/

the nadir is gone. 23 days before liftoff, assimilation is complete. I am.

today,
a steady beat:
where did it go-o, where did it go, where did it go-o, where did it go, where did it go-o, where did it go, where did it go-o, where did it go, where did it go-o, where did it go, where did it go-o, where did it go, where id it go-o, where did it go?

today,
the words of albert camus springs to mind these days. "killing an arab", surely seems like an easier thing to cope white that the killings of caucasians. the news of london have been on now for more than 24 hours straight, more and more it seems, because they can. it leaves me with questions: is it in fact because western medie per se has more acces to such catastrophies that the coverage tends overkill or is it an expression of how they value life, code ethnic?

I guess there is so simple answer, but thinking about how 17 iraq cicilian got killed in one airraid over the weekend, and how it was mentioned by a short notice in NY Times - no TV - and at the same time, US official question the victims by placing them under suspicion for maybe having been linked to insurgency, draws a picture.

Alas, the harder it is to be a pacifist.

London: Again the war on terror strike the domestic turf. Saddening as it is, it should be no surprise, that a declared war takes casualties on both sides. Innocent as the victims in London as innocent are the numerous civilian iraqies and arabs killed on a day to day basic down east, but o we lucky ones, are spared of the gory and graphic details of their annihilation, that this moment are filling every news web-site on the london-bombings. I can say only this: If you join a war, and promote the proud idea of why and the will to fight to the end, dont act so f...... surprised of the consequences.

So from the bloom of summer and an american president in Denmark: this is what the world looks like: the third world war is at hand. Squirt or swallow.

I think most people, having been there or not, would agree that one of the most outstanding characteristica of Sna Francisco is that people do in fact walk. And it means stuff. It means stuff to me now that I found time to actually walk down Eugenia to Cortland in Bernal Heights and sit down at a cafe and pause. And it means stuff that whoever you left behind is ok with it. And it means stuff when the walk down is actually a farewell, yes, its super nostalgic, but this here city is winning for every stay and this stay being the last for years ... you see where I am going? Stuff thats means stuff.
I have walked down from the highest peak of Bernal Heights, a 1500 feet knoll though very visuable, it seems kind of secret or deserted. The view, a 360 degree turn, San Francisco at my feet but under my skin, the many colours of diversity, I decide that his city wins by a hair over Los Angeles, laughing at the choice, crying for where I am headed. The long farewells, the hardest ones, like an impossible choise between love and passion.

today,
off to San Francisco and fourth of july weekend, fireworks of vulgar patriotism, alongside with El Presidentes visit to our little turf dot.dk, sealing the unfortunate alliance with a kiss.

Globalisation kills your Gods but up your darlings. The car runs smooth.

Another daytrip to Pinnacles National Monument. The heat was reaching 35 celcius, and the climb up with Carl on the back made me stop 300 feet from the top. But still, the view, the grandeur, the soaring turkeyvultures, pfffffffff. 23 million year old rocks still moving north. Alive but the stillness.

Decline, the parkinglot. I drink a lot of water, have a smoke in the shade of my newly fixed jeep, joy and pain. Conversation with an elderly french couple, visiting The States for the last time. The man, though the lousy toupe, had worked for 20 years in the filmindustry in LA, I could see him boogie in a red verve vapor room, with go go girls and free lovedrugs. But the town grew too hectic so they had retired to live their senior years in Paris, but...wanted to see the scenes the moviebusiness kept them to busy to see.

Adieu, we said and drove off. July 1 2005.

the bird
http://www.birdwatching.com/birdgalleries/firstpictures/pages/turkey_vulture.htm