I rested my poor head tonight and missed the softball game with the architects, that was too bad. Ted said I could come as long as I didn't get as wasted at the afterparty as I did last time. He's still buggin that I killed him in ping-pong.

I fixed the youthilne.org website today. The agency details page had been broken for more than a month and nobody ever told me.

This is the BART station. I think it's New Montgomery. Isn't it nice?

How do I make a 5.1 surround sound theater system that is portable and can be used outdoors? This can be sorted out later, of course. But I just don't want to buy a non-portable system for my microcinema and then have to use a separate one when I do outdoor shows. I've been looking at DJ equipment but it's all 2 channel.

I thought I'd either buy the Sanyo XP18n or XP21n. And I'd do it quickly. Silent projections on a wall down near 16th and Valencia on the weekends. I have hours of footage of India -- street scenes and the like, that don't make compelling narrative but in the context of all those drunk people stumbling around in their black clothes I think it would be interesting. I'd like to sit out on warm nights with friends and drink beers and watch the people go by and just shoot pictures up onto something. I could combine all my favorite things in one activity.

On the subject of street art, here's one hand-dandy piece of information: free street power. In every Muni bus shelter there are regular power outlets. I found this out when I was watching some punk bands play in front of the Bart entrance at 16th and Mission. After shaking off the surprise of their presence, (Why have I never seen this? Why always preachers with bullhorns?) I looked for the generator but there was only an orange cord taped to the red bricks. I followed it incredulously to the bus stand. It snaked up the black pole next to the street map and up over the crossbar. On top of that metal bar running from front to back under the arch, there's a little metal plate that you can remove and expose the outlets. They played for hours and the cops never did anything.

I listened to a great rant about art by Billy Childish where he throws poop on the critics and says "the lie of originality, the ignorance of its champions and the intrinsic honesty of plagiarism." I just want to say that I'm through with originality. Go Billy.