A meteorologist has called Punxsutwaney Phil a “punk” – and not in a good way. Still, it’s Groundhog Day, and I predict six more weeks of blogging about politics – but with an important difference, as foretold.
Yea, at the end of those six weeks, I will finally unveil a new series of onstage events at a bar in Williamsburg that will make the two defunct bar series that I used to organize look like the feeble rituals of grade-school field-day-goers and middle school debate teams, respectively.
America, long a bourgeois sleepy giant, is ready for radicalism – and at the arena of clashing (and sometimes fusing!) ideas soon to be unveiled, America shall have it! And this time, I’ll be moderating (when there aren’t mimes or banjo-players or other wonders onstage – but more about all that in six weeks).
During the pivotal six weeks ahead, you will notice my online presence being transmogrified to suit the new era, but do not be frightened. The changes to come may be a sign of radicalism, but they are also a gesture of peace, outreach, and newfound understanding. The new radicalism may shatter idols beloved by us all but also produce unexpected new insights that build new alliances, new bonds. I can no more promise you what the ideological landscape ahead holds than I can promise you we will live on the Moon by 2020, but I can promise we shall wrestle – wrestle! – onstage, slathered not in Jell-O but in new models of a universe desperately in need of them.
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