M————- ,

I am a Writer, not a data miner. And I care about doing what I Love more than “Winning”. While this has been a lucrative opportunity that put me in contact with people of stature, I believe it would be best if I instead were in contact with people of Creative being, no matter their class.

I am henceforth resigning my position as Campaign Manager from the R————— Campaign. There is a storm above the Road ahead, but I intend to Ride on two wheels in it and as Fast as I can.



And with that, my first foray into Politics was over.

The last word in my resignation statement is the one Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca and the last survivors of his initial expedition into the New World gave to Galveston Island, and its meaning in English is “Misfortune”.

Cabeza de Vaca was familiar with Brief Fortune and its cyclical nature; a paladin considered the greatest conquistador in Spain, basking at once in its vast riches, only to be quickly forgotten by his King and enslaved by the rabid Indian tribes of North America, before again becoming a renowned Adventurer and spearheading one final expedition.

It was there on Galveston Island, during the Campaign, along its hurricane-ravished streets that I first really thought in depth about Fortune. I knew that mine was temporary, and that a period of famine could hit me at any time; I had enjoyed several years in Austin with the support of a large group of friends, of some beautiful women, and people considered important to its society. My relatively new stature of political standing was never something I had asked for: It required a great deal of secrecy & masking of the truth in a façade of Fallacy, when I very naturally would rather be digging out the dirty Truth, objectively, and sharing that with The People – so that they are Liberated to make their own fucking decisions – I suppose, in fewer words than I offered in Headed West, you cannot take the Journalist out of a man.

Weird heroes and mould-breaking champions exist as living proof to those who need it that the tyranny of the Rat Race is not yet final.

If somehow I were to find an Editor who offered pay more than “enough for a bar tab,” which is what my last one did, then perhaps I could be an instrument in the fight against Corporatism & its tyrants; the lobbyists and lawmakers who continually and selfishly work to knit a sticky web of Law impossible for the Average American to break through in order to find their cause in Nature.

My own malhado, as it were, is something I have blamed mostly on my own decisions, but also partly on my Irish lineage. The system set up for my generation has not been of much assistance, and it’s got more than just me frustrated. While I’ve worked hard for everything I own, and Borrowed only to obtain my college degree, damn near every slight misstep I have made came at a cost of guaranteed personal hardship, however long or short, with the possibility of a quick slide into destitution.

My most recent one is no different. I offered my thoughts on the Tea Party, and re-offered them in spite of my Title, because I believe in America. And while twice now sharing those thoughts have caused malhado, I think I have been able to catch my step this go around and should be striding soon again.