Nada said she disagreed with Descartes and thought his idea "I think therefore I am" was destructive. For one thing, it neglects the voice of the body. How about this, then, Nada? Since speaking enacts a relationship between mind and body, how about :'I say what I think therefore I am'? And if this is so, since saying with meaning should involve listening and responding, how about, 'I respond therefore I am'? If Descartes had been truthful maybe he would have just put it: "I write therefore I am" which is barely a variation of "Publish or perish."

I appreciated Marianne Shaneen's suggestion to go see Steven Matheson's films at the Robert Beck Memorial Cinema, at 145 Ludlow between Rivington and Stanton earlier tonight.. I liked in particular "Apple Grown Wind Tunnel" by Steven Matheson aptly described in the flyer: "This absurdist, microscopic film noir follows an underground network of people in a post- industrial world where natural resources are disappearing. "Apple" imagines the development of an alternative culture of self-care at the margins,lined by illicit radio broadcasts, toxic waste sites, the highway, and the overwhelming desire to find a cure." (First prize Black Maria Film Video Festival, and San Francisco International Film Festival Award). These awards were deserving, as this film is comparable to Godard's "Alphaville" in its sinister evocation of an ominous world heading towards doom. I talked with the artist afterwards and he confirmed our sense that the video, despite its anguished subject matter of disease and destruction, seeks for hopeful signs in underground networks of knowledge exchange and utopic yearnings. All thumbs up! Marianne and I discussed the film briefly after talking with Matheson. She and I agreed that the secret shortwave broadcasts that had gained a following among long distance truckers could be compared with geometrically expanding networks of bloggers seeking to break away from the useless, propaganda lined one way streets and crowded commercial highways of mass media. Going home, trapped on an uptown rat infested F train platform which no longer seemed to be receiving trains tonight. Typical post 9/11 Manhattan reality. No one came to explain that the uptown F train had stopped so as I sat there for about 20 minutes pacing around, leaving messages for Toni (she was already asleep) and thought about Matheson's films and how close by these deserted stretches of a decaying reality were. I was in one! No way out, and what to do? Going down to the film I had been shut out of a closed down Broadway train station at 96th Street.. Two strikes. Finally found a cop who was comfortably seated at the end of the East Broadway station. "No more uptown trains. Take a train to Brooklyn." A train to Brooklyn? At 1am? When I'm going the other way??? I was back out on the street, and the atmosphere felt ominous. I saw a cab with a lit up sign and ran for it. All those jokes at the film about paranoia... not so funny now...Fortunately I caught the cab and got home safe, and 18 bucks poorer, in time for this wrap up.. So here it is, all you late night bloggers. fait accompli says nighty- night and pleasant dreams...