Last night I confessed to C. that I was going through a slightly embarrassing adolescent love of Communism. At least the Hollywood version of it. I’m sure this is all because of watching “Enemy at the Gates last week. C’mon the love scene with Jude Law and Rachel Weisz? Hot underground love amongst comrades–racy. Rachel had this weird thing going on with her mouth, if I were the director I would of did the scene over again and asked Rachel for less “dying fish”. Anyways, each day I imagine heading off to work for the state with my brothers and sisters, extolling the virtues of our fearless leader during our early 15 minutes state sponsored “spirit break”. I think of how dashing we would all look dressed the same, each of us judged on our merit, performance and cheek bones. Each of us with our own role to play in the welfare of the state as our economy tanks and life becomes only slightly bearable through late night fueling of hard liquor and songs of the Motherland. At lunch we would go to an assembly to hear endless propaganda over the loud speaker, returning to work, rejuvenated that we were surely winning and that soon, everyone would be wearing red and khaki, accessorized with blissful smiles.