TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER
an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
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10.09.02, wednesay afternoon
Humph. I haven't written the first sentence to my novel yet, even though the characters are banging their fists on a plate-glass window, trying to break in/out. Instead, I'm composing notes for an event with Girls For A Change. I hafta talk about using the media as a tool for social change, a topic that chronically beetles my brows; even as a stubborn and willful editor with progressive politics, I don't have that much power because the magazine - the vehicle of expression - is commercially dependent, prey to the whims of its sponsors and advertisers. Still, I'm constantly told, What do you have to lose? And that's true. What is there to lose during a state of emergency?