I'm in a melancholy mood tonight so I'm listening to a Bobby Caldwell cd, which has got sickie love songs like Heart of Mine and Next Time (I Fall). I heard a song of his on the way to work this morning and now I have to play his music.

I wouldn't have known about him at all, except I saw at one of those Embarcadero concerts and much to my surprise, I sort of fell in love with his music. He's a blondie guy who sounds like's black, but he's not as disgusting as Michael Bolton and that fuzzy icky hair of his. Boz Scaggs covered a lot of Caldwell's song and I like him too.

Can you believe this is the kind of music I listened to in high school? Mellow smooth R&B. For some reason, this kind of music fits very well when you live in the tropics. It's lazy and mellow and dreamy and the kind of music you want to hear when you're staring out at the ocean late at night over one too many cocktails. I guess the girl can move away from the Islands but you can never quite get the island stuff out of the girl.

I've been making notes on the Elf People curse and the only thing I can relate it to is the Jewish Holocaust. No wonder I was so fasicnated by the Holocaust and all the stories. The Nazis tried to destroy the jewish people and their culture, enslaving them, separating the children from the adults and sending them to separate camps, separating them from their families, taking away first their right to own property and then to have jobs and then in the end, in their "Final Solution" killing them and burning away their bodies as evidence.

Just when I write this, it makes me cry, and I'm not even jewish. Maybe as someone who had an incarnation where my people were completely destroyed, I totally relate. I don't know.

I think I will model the destruction of the elf people with what happened during the Holocaust. I guess I should be glad that I've read a ton of books on the Holocaust and even went through a period where I wrote nothing by Holocaust poetry. I haven't looked at those poems in years. I think I was in my dark period when I wrote them, when thoughts of slashing my wrists or overdosing on those 40 hits of pharmaceutical speed I carried with me whereever I went used to flood my brain regulary like the river in a tropical country during the rainy season, only my rainy season was never ending.

I should be writing my screenplay tonight. I have 24 pages due on Monday, but I have been incredibly lazy all week. Actually I was out Tuesday, but I could have written on Wednesday or Thursday. Instead I read, farted around, indulged in my sick obsession with playing solitaire. It's like I'm into the frustration of never winning. It mirrors my life right now.

I don't know if I can go back and read my holocaust poetry, nor do I know if I can reread the holocaust literature. I end up crying as I read and it takes forever to read anything.

I have been thinking alot about the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, but it is hard to think rationally about it when I spent years of my life reading about the jewish holocaust. It makes me wonder if it's happening all over again, except in a very subtle way. There are already reports of anti-semitic attacks in Europe. The press, who can believe them. Chris Matthews from Hard Ball said that Ehud Barak told him that Arafat has lights but he doesn't turn them on because he wants the press and world sympathy. How you can believe in the Palestinian cause when its leader has to resort to trickery like that? If what the Palestinians say is true, then why do they resort to scuh tactics? Where are the hundreds of body in Jenin? I don't believe they even exist. I believe the press is being fooled or more cynically, they are letting themselves be fooled.

And when I hear about this sort of stuff going on, the holocaust pictures and stories flood through my mind and it freaks me out and I cannot help but support the Israeli cause. Those who forget the past are bound to exprerience or repeat it. And I cannot forget the Holocaust. Nor do I suspect can many of the Israelis. Most of the people who survived the Holocaust are dead now but their stories and their memories live on and they do not let us forget.