Greetings from Indianapolis--where the cool kids wear the stormtrooper costumes. I just wanted to remind you to look up this weekend: Planet Alignment Peaks Sunday and Monday

News of the day: Anthony C-3PO Daniels bumped his booty against the back of my head. I know that sounds dirty, but it was very innocent. Really. It happened right in front of Hayden Anakin Skywalker Christensen and everything.

Oh, and I lost my camera (sad face).

I love this professor! Good for him, for going out on a limb, and the reaction to him just proves how badly someone needed to do what he did (if you can't read the link, just sign up to New York Times already! It doesn't cost you anything). Kudos to his University for backing him, and boo to the Missouri Republicans, who only managed to prove that they are whiny little bitches.

I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought there was something troubling about the fact that simply accusing a priest of untoward behavior automatically made them guilty of a sex crime?

Speakeasy Network, the cute indie company that taught me all I know about Internet Culture, is having some serious problems. They have been my primary e-mail and Internet provider for nearly seven years now, providing outstanding and uninterrupted service even when a tragic fire gutted the original café and destroyed much of their work space. For several days now, I’ve been able to dial in, but have been unable to do anything that you dial in to do, such as retrieve e-mail and look at websites. Apparently this is not Speakeasy’s fault per se, but a problem with one of their service providers on this side of the country. The result is that thousands of Speakeasy customers East of the Mississippi have been without Internet service for about a week.

I’m not here to put Speakeasy down. Didn’t someone say that the true measure of a man is his response to a crisis? I give Speakeasy props for not shirking responsibility, and I truly believe that they are trying hard to “locate and resolve the problem as soon as possible,” as they say on their website. But even so, the harsh reality is that even a temporary loss of Internet connection is tremendously disconcerting. If I can't connect, I can't find the e-mail address to write to for answers--or send e-mail, for that matter. I can't look up the 1-800 number I keep forgetting to write down somewhere. I can't check the weather or read today's Boondocks. I'm stranded.

This desperation is what led me to do the unthinkable--sign up for AOL. I had one of those ubiquitous "1000 HOURS FREE" discs laying around that I hadn't gotten around to throwing away or placing in my "Materials for Future Conceptual Art Project" junk pile. So in order to check e-mail and other essential acts of living, I loaded it up and now, every morning, my computer tells me I have mail.

I hate AOL; let's just get that right out in the open. I hate its layout, its insistent user-friendliness and the constant bombardment of advertisements. It's the lowest common denominator of Internet, the Jell-O of the Web. But they know that if you send out 20 million AOL CDs every week, even your worst enemies will get desperate enough to try it out. Then you can add one more notch to your bedpost of conquests. Use MY name as further argument that EVERYONE LOVES AOL! IT'S THE KEENEST EVER! AND YOU CAN CHAT AND EVERYTHING! HEY! LET'S *I.M.* :-D Christ.

In all honesty, what upsets me the most is that it is an allegory for my current struggle with employment. On the one hand I'm working for THE ARTS! I go to the office in my slightly-funky-low-end-business-casual-all-black attire and type away on substandard computers with wretched ergonomics, doing one of the purest things one can imagine—giving away free theatre tickets! We all sit in one room, my co-workers talking about penises all day, and order in Falafel or Tempura, and gossip about whether Vanessa Williams makes a better Witch than Bernadette Peters. The FAX machine doesn’t work, and nobody can figure out the voice mail, but it doesn’t matter, because we’re bringing ART to the PEOPLE, and the show goes on so everything is OK. Supposedly I get paid, but nobody really knows how that works, and so we all just float in this gauzy world of actors and travel arrangements and dressing rooms and tickets and all the accoutrements of—as Hedwig says—this business we call show.

And I do enjoy it, I do. But sometimes—just sometimes—I wish I had a mouse. You know, a mouse I could plug into the laptop I use at work so I don’t have to navigate using that little nubby pencil-eraser thing on the keyboard all day long. And then there’s health insurance. I need new glasses, and I haven’t had a dental check-up in over a year. And retirement money? What do you think I’m living on now?

So once again, like a vulture gliding above the desert floor, AOL patiently waits for the desperate, the starving, the carpal-tunnel afflicted to fall. This week I have an interview with one of the many, many subsidiaries of the multinational mega-conglomerate of all multinational mega-conglomerates, AOL Time Warner. While I know that I am not particularly suited to corporate life, I find the lure of corporate “perks” seeping into my thoughts when I least expect it. Yes, the quicker, easier, more seductive way to economic stability. Sure, I might have to wear a SUIT to work, but I can get a new pair of glasses every goddamn year if I want. I could even get paid every two weeks, like clockwork, without having to remind anyone! You’ve never seen teeth as clean as mine will be. Maybe I won’t make much to start with, but you know, you gotta prove yourself, right? I’ll work so hard, so smart, that they’ll have to recognize how much I can bring to the company, how much I’ll contribute so that AOL Time Warner can be even bigger, even richer, own even more of the land we occupy and the food we ingest and the air we breathe. AOL is already everywhere, even in my own computer. Why not let it into my soul, as well?