  So it’ s been a night that wasn’ t as terribly productive as I’ d have wished it to be.  Rather it was terribly connected,  but not terrible at all,
 if you can follow that.  First off,  I’ m out of absinthe,  but I’ ve got two more bottles on the way,
 so that should help if only it didn’ t take 5 business days for a courier to make it all the way from Europe.  And foremost,  I spent a great deal of the night catching up with old friends from the Academy.  Sounds important right,  well,
 it is and it isn’ t.  The Academy,  is the United States Military Academy,  more commonly referred to as West Point.  A year ago I resigned from that famed and fabled institution.
 Today I sat back and I sent people there my reflections,  lessons I’ ve learned so that they might maybe be better leaders or only not make the mistakes that I did.  Not that I consider leaving the Academy,  which I learned I did love only after leaving it,  or leaving the Army,
 which I’ m planning to do here within the next few months,  to be a mistake.  Granted the Army in all its facets has been a major part of my life over the last five years,  and it is largely responsible for crafting the man I am today.  But,
 I’ m responsible enough,  or perhaps mature is the more correct word,  to be thankful for what the Army has given me and to take the lessons and attributes and move on,  move closer towards the goals that I’ ve set for myself,
 to know this creature that I’ ve become and to writer and explore and blow the world on it’ s ear.  In my MSN Group http: groups. msn.
com/ NewBohemians for those so inclined to check it out,  I’ ve been tossing around the phrases “ creating art for the sake of art”  and “
taking popular culture away from old men in suits”  And the more I saw them,  the more I feel they’ re applicable.  Call me crazy,  but the entire world is moving towards an era where information is universal and able to be accessed at all times from any point on the connected globe,
 and everyday the connected globe is getting larger as more people take to the internet as a means of social communication.  The sense of privacy is quickly dwindling and people are able to be reached at any time,  failure to do so constitutes a minor emergency.  Oh my god!  Steve didn’ t pick up his cell phone for three hours yesterday!
 And despite the freedom that this sense of connectivity should grant us,  with the self- publisher,  self- promoter being the true king,  the American dream,
 the modern Rags- to- Riches where riches is defined as deserved privilege be it fame or freedom or monetary compensation,  instead you have the RIAA suing college kids for using Kazaa to swap music files when P2P networks have the greatest chance of any musical medium of all time of catapulting an obscure musical group into a household ( however hip the house might be)  word.
 And the RIAA’ s response?  Pay per play music download services,  which completely destroys the musician’ s album as a work of art.  Heaven forbid literature ever gets to that point,
 where you can pay $ 0. 99 a chapter and just download the portions of a book you like.  It’ s this horrid trend that’ s pushing me towards wanting a total revolution,
 a redefining of the entire pop culture medium.  Writers should publish and promote themselves,  movies should be made by collectives,  bands should be able to record their own music and distribute it as they see fit.  Physical works of art,  photographs,
 they should be readily available through an electronic means so that they can be admired and interpreted anywhere and at any time.  While it’ s been said that those who see money as the root of all that’ s evil don’ t have any,  I think that the need for more money has turned the modern popular culture scene into a machine,
 and it’ s driven down quality,  and it’ s all about milking out one more dime,  because a dime spread across a million records is a hundred grand.  I don’
t think that the powers that be have any respect for artists as a live long endeavor,  we’ ve no more Jim Morrison,  no more Jimmy Hendrix,  no more Ernest Hemingway,  no F.
 Scott Fitzgerald,  no Ezra Pound,  no Pablo Picasso ( though physical artists are having a better time when not merely being allocated to the latest trend)  very few people are allowed to push limits anymore,  most are milked for their initial commercial success and then allocated to shows on VH1 like Where Are They Now?
 and The Eighties .  But hey,  that’ s just how it looks from behind these Bohemian’ s blue eyes.  It’
s late and I need sleep.
