Freedom is a blank screen with that always consistent flashing cursor waiting patiently for you to breathe direction and passion on to the empty canvas that it serves as some sort of strange diplomat.

Or you could just say that the summer lull between primaries and the general provides ample time for doing nothing. My wife told me to get a hobby, so I'll try this for at least a day or two.

I've always thought there was a certain arrogance associated with blogging. Truly who would care what my views are on any subject? And after I undoubtedly see the hits on this site skyrocket upwards towards the low teens, I am certain to feel the rush of influence raging through my cholestrol caked veins.

The political life doesn't much lend itself to anything but itself... that and fast food at least. The ounces of fries, pounds of bbq and gallons of sugar laced, jacked up old fashioned coca cola is immeasurable in those who some how manage to survive more than a month in, as Mario Puzo so amptly put it in The Godfather, "the business we have chosen."

Surely no one who has made the choice to prostitute himself out for causes that last six months and cost millions hasn't been blessed with "normal" wiring from God above. But, alas we are as Bill Cosby said of four year olds, "brain damaged."

The overtures to mafia are infinite... "everytime I think I'm out they pull me back in." And while no gunshots have been fired yet, the sport which we play is often as brutal and definitely as bloody. There are the competing families which incestously overlap and mingle together when the causes or cash deem it necessary. There are bosses and hitmen and goons. Everyone has a place and the only way one can move up is by knocking some higher up, with the knowledge, permission and approval of other higher ups of course.

Call it a modern day feudal system - not too disimilar from the post office out at dixiana - but it is what it is.

And for those few who have chosen to make a living at it, I can say with some degree of certainty that they would not change it for anything. The predictability of the corporate world - with it's pen striped gray suits, gray faces and gray cars- is tempting to say the least. But at the end of the day, I am still unwilling to trade my two day beard, docksiders and tj maxx purchased polo and the honor of having my few remaining strands of hair on fire that are undoubtedly stricken upright by the caffeine and A.D.D. medications coursing through my capillaries.

And so the at conclusion of my very first blog, as some Dick and Jane book would put it, I conclude nothing other than this: