The Secret...

First, it began with my friend Jason talking about it all the time. Then people in my improv class began citing it. Then Larry King, debatable sultan of tv interviewing, had to go and make it officially buzzworthy. The Secret. The Law of Attraction. And now I've gone and brought it to thousands of people by writing about it on my world-renowned blog (that I haven't updated in a month). I am but a cog in the penny-pressing touristy machine of the Secret.

Anyway, I decided to try it out last night when I busked. Hey, I need money. So I willed money to come flyin' at me. The only thing is, this doesn't work if every patron of the subway woke up this particular morning, kissed their lip-worn copy of the Secret, and willed their money to stay in their pockets, wallets, jars, or even that little hollowed out window sill they think no one knows about. That screws up the whole system! There I was, attracting money from all over the place, while the same money felt obligated to remain where it was. Well, that doesn't help me. Especially if they don't bring the window sill into the subway station.

My guitar is in serious need of repair. I can't play anything lower than the fifth fret without getting a horrible, Harry Partchian buzz from the strings because all the frets have practically melted away. And I can't get ole Emmylou repaired until somebody gives me money. And I can't get money from busking unless people will their money to go where it pleases! Damn you, Secret! Why can't people get back into Ishmael or something? Actually, I don't know if that book champions the donation of money, but I can't think of anything better. A Christmas Carol? Wait, everyone go see Wallace Shawn in The Fever! Then again, in that play, he just points out that the affluence/poverty scales seem hopelessly tipped...

Okay, just go see Zodiac, because it's pretty good.

Latest busking song: "Jokerman" by Dylan.