Here we are in solid domestic settings with student's papers on my side. The space in the room is filled by the sounds of the newest Arcade Fire record. I have to pay tribute to the quality of their work. So solidly written and executed. I think it is an instant classic. Even as their older albums show corkyness and vibrant interpretation of new music, this one feels more serious and instantly recognizable as both new, but also as part of a longer tradition of good rock.

Beyond the history of rock I have been riling myself with American politics and the submission of every single democratic candidate to the dictates of AIPAC conformity. The spinelesness of American politicians in the face of lobbying linked to the newest of Crusader states is simply pathetic. In my optimistic days I feel that a candidate who would have the "orbs" to state the truth and stand as a friend of the State of David in favor of just peace and 1967 borders would be able to dominate the debate. In fact a candidate with such a position would be able to open a debate and get all the support that the cowed academics and media critics are unwilling to express for as long as this would mean being alone in taking the dangerous position. While I respect research on the power of the AIPAC and the rest of the groups like AIPAC I do not share the conspiracy-like fatalism that goes with this assumption. I do not believe that there is no way to break the grip that AIPAC has on the US discourse. Carter's book and the recent academic memo on the power of this lobby has shown that the time is ripe for the debate. One can no longer fear the politics of smear. Dirt will only stick on the weak. If GWB has taught us one thing is that commitment to one opinion without wavering pays up. Then again, this is my assessment on a good day, when I do feel optimistic about the state of the US political discourse.

It seems that blogger is facing some problems. It annoys me to no end not having control over the posting mechanism. Maybe I have reached some sort of posting quota. There is little to report other than the recent development of home ownership. Yes I have put a deposit down and I have entered the large pool of people living the petit bourgeois dream of mortgage dose repayment. Or maybe we should say nightmare. The interesting thing in my case is that homeownership is one of those counterintuitive things that my conservative economic nature should warn me against. What if US housing collapses (it has already started)? What if the US stops lowering interest rates and increases them in order to attract fleeing investors who go to stronger Euro? What if in five years we are in major world recession with high interest rates and I have no longer the protection of a steady 5.09 rate. What if the sky falls on our heads? Even as those thoughts go through my head the domestic me says: what if all that does not happen? What if it keeps rising? What if Vancouver is kind of an exception tied as it is with the Pacific rim economy (bolocks, it is truly too close to the US not to be affected)? What if by 2010 he Olympics make it appealing for even more people to flood it and by then a one bedroom condo costs more than 20 years of me serving as a slave at a silver mine for 40 years. So following my metrosexual desire for beautiful dark floors, stainless steel appliances and space to unflold my rug, I made the decision with which I now have to live. I do not think it will be that difficult. Let us see.

Classic Vancouver. Woke up in grey and grey it is now at 5:30 AM. And yet that misses the story of the day. It misses my walk to the pub where I had lunch while preparing for tomorrow's lecture. It misses the moment when the sun came out and everything seemed spring. It misses the rolling up of the pub's fascade and the breeze, still a bit wintery but with unmistakeable strokes of April, coming in the dark beer serving establishment. It misses the gorgeousness of the walk back home at the end of my Crusade's lecture arrangement. So grey it may be now, yet the story of the sun over my town on this March day has at least been recorded. Listening to a new CD and following some news as a break from reading new book. The trip to Greece is now closer to me, feels closer to me. With it the union with friends and numerous students appears so real as well. Good!

Apartment mania. Domesticity overdose. I saw the place once more. I love it. N was as impressed as I. I am proceeding with paperwork and if things pan out I should have keys by April 30th. the Byzantine home owner should be a new subject of study. Already today I offered my class a taste of Byzantine family strategies and they liked it. A good day over all. Tomorrow some work awaits me on organizing the home purchase. Anyhow, this post is uninspired. To be left at this.

I am developing super BS skills. I think I have my lecture on Byzantine intellectual culture, to be delivered before an audience of friendly philhellenes, ready after half an hour of scribbling on a piece of paper and making notes. My main points are there and I am ready to give them all my enthusiasm in the process of delivery. Speaking of delivery I am already dreaming of pizza and comfort food while I sit with friends to see whether mr cardboard, currently repackaged into the Goracle, will get an Oscar, proceed to Oslo for the peace Nobel and then run for president. Still the food is not here yet and it is not clear that one should even wish for Gore to run once again. My only company is a furball on my side and the desire to check the news once more for more insigt in what appears as an inevitable slide towards US war against Iran. So I leave this for more news.

It is odd to find oneself in a situation which makes posting on the venue feel like a novel experience. It has been a while since I have been active here and I still wonder as to the reasons behind my silence. In anycase, on a grey day, sitting at N's dinning table, itself a French-Canadian's family heirloom, I am writing a lecture for Tuesday, while bemoaning the fact that I am not out with N and her friends eating lunch at a fancy restaurant. I have to think that I am saving money and that I actually need to work, in order to justify to myself my domestic status. My home search is still going on, more properties appear every day and more are turned down on account of one or another concern. Work is going well, though I need to be filling forms for a whole spate of bureaucratuc issues, and teaching has improved dramatically after the sluggish begining of this term.

I now feel they are enjoying the lectures as much as I do. I am now looking forward to my trip to Greece, to seeing friends, checking out my new property and just spending time with a bunch of young people, who may or may not have the energy to work after all their partying. Beyond that I feel I need to see friends, but I am too reluctant to pick up the phone and call as it simply is not the same. Hopefully sailing will pan out. On other news, it seems I have an in with the ministry of culture to get free Greek books for the program. I will be submitting quite a budget for that. It makes me happy to even think of the shipping list.

It has been a while. I do not know what makes a medium desirable over one specific period of time and then less so over another one. What is it that led me to not write for all this while. And of course, what is it that got me back on it? Well, I have been doing what Vancouverites are supposed to spend most of their times doing. I have been looking at real estate and have been gaging my options. So much so that I have finally submitted an offer and now I am on the receiving end of an email or phone line which in a few hours could land me my first apartment. Chances are it wont, as there are some issues that are not resolved yet on the money front, yet this process has been enough to divert my attention. It has also been somewhat interesting as you get to know the city better and decide what it is you like and what not of it as you make your choice. Phone rung, I am informed I am on a bidding war with someone. Hopefully it will not become too excessive. This is realtime. I do not foresee that I will be a home owner by tomorrow, but who knows.