12.17.2007

No Country for Old Men

The fight has not ended. Not at all in any definite way. Tommy Lee Jones' Sheriff bears those realities ever so heavily and humbly and with... it's just damn good storytelling. There isn't a weak link in the whole picture. Steady beats the heart, and it may skip once or twice, but it's calm never ceases.


I think if I had to make a list of the Top Ten Thrillers of All Time, it might say something like:

1. Psycho
2. Taxi Driver
3. Inland Empire
4. Jaws
5. Vertigo
6. No Country for Old Men
7. Videodrome
8. Blue Velvet
9. Knife in the Water
10. North by Northwest

What Everybody Says

Love might convince you that love is terrible. Wait no. Not having love after having had it might convince you that love is terrible. It already has done so to me. Then why this knowledge that I am wrong?

Are my memories, that way I felt, are they serving some force that goes against what sometimes has seemed so clear? That love is a fucking mess. Could it not be?

What if it's not.
Love. Spotless. Why spotless. Well impersonally. Love without the mess. What good is that?

12.07.2007

Anyway I Miss It

did it once
did it twice
Rollin around
Sipping roguewater and jam
Learning rhythmic from whom and him
Curdling water turning tan
To woman, man and fire
And most of what he stands for
The learned whore
sniffs at the drawer

getting nowhere now
excessively

12.06.2007

Love Letter to John

We stole from th' Blacks
But gave it back...

Boys took from Zeppelins
Happens in the place
Kintu space, relax
Tightyspeckled harlequins
Uprooted spades grace

Got to say
My life has purpose
Now mine are few
How can it relay
My humble ring of circus
Err it's not strictly you

When you have no sense
What you have
Cuts the core
Then you have new sense
What you have
Wills it more

Ancient bung beetles ten
Cow tongue slowly
Left, right and complete
Meet heedless men
Solar strangers holy
Brand new feet

Mind Games is only worth playing
Jackelopes radio for scraps
Well John stares
Being asked somehow staying
hard pounded to the salty taps
Bright glitterlight mirrorless cares

Meet of the feet
and push repeat
push repeat
push repeat
push repeat
Push repeat

11.30.2007

Funky Guns

Whipping days once again
Can't even perform
For their own good,
the good of the country.

11.17.2007

The Magnificent Sags

She's got big bright eyes
Just enough wonder and four reasons to love
Weather-pulse forted farce busted

Simple pool dip ice and down

And then you came and destroyed all that.

11.14.2007

More than Reason

Read instructions before proceeding...with anything.

I just read a very difficult to read chapter on Othello and Shylock, comparing them as politico-theological enemy figures. Supposedly it prepared me to write a paper on Othello, but turns out the list of texts I can use does not include the incredibly dense essay I just stumbled through.

Anyway, I understand the body politic in a different way now. And I see that politics are just former theologies, secularized through the course of history up to now, when Church and State shall be thought separate by many. Similarly, secular education derives from the establishment of religious institutions of learning. Education and the State are separate as well, no matter what money tells you. Education is only ever one with the people, and how much they buy into learning.

11.12.2007

Poor Bedlamb

Now is a Winter and then contemptuously hot.
Our New York has made a Glorious Summer
And its gale blows in from the South.
What is there to do about it
I will become something else or else
I will be forced to rise to the top
of a pile of corpes. Lighting them on
Fire before studying them - the great
Dead who truly have made themselves
Available to me. In writing and in celluloid
Visions of flesh and blood. And, of course,
In that Great Gift of Education!

11.09.2007

Happenstance

Some made by nuclear power, some by bowls
Most often it comes through the bowels
-that last is the American grace,
For he who lives and dies by his colon
Was the finest American to Ride off Into Sunsets.

Right mobbish parties they were.

Hey, know any good racist jokes?

Stacked on top of one another
The safe passageway
The safety of it that somehow
Seems only to frighten

Check before the info
gets you down
because something without
a line might come at you

You're gonna have to
Judge that something has been seen
Read maybe. We don't know what
Kills they're most proud
First Amendment etc.
The kills made by the American

Regime.

Lets not let the American whose family goes from KKK to NRA become ever again the kind of American whose iron squint rules the country.

11.07.2007

Down Down Up Y

Dance without asking why you're here. Thinking wears my personality. Or rather my personality has worn this thinking so long that it has forgotten how the skin used to provide.

Urgently urgently on earth. Can you stop? Can you even pray without that asshole in the back row...
I am not silly. Not silly to pray....
However one time it was frivolous and game-like. Pals. Now I am wondering about...

Have the courage...

Down to the...

Is it coming fast?

Isn't there a movement? Is there movement? Both suggest that yes there is movement.

But if questions could confirm presence of

It's the violence of somebody's imagination that...

Entertains

Enters interns. Fucks nation.

Clinton's penis, swung to stimulate the Republican domino warpath, yet may elevate the missus.

11.02.2007

Below's grasping may only end up being a mere gesture, pointing to them, the shared somethings. The word grasp, in other words, has been used falsely insofar as no proof has been given that anything was grasped entirely.

I'm not high enough. Times like these you start to doubt and then tell the doubt to go away and come back. Times like these it starts to trouble. Whether Shakespeare is indeed holy, or simply a ghost. In other words, where does Dante visit with the Bard? Heaven or Hell or earth.

According to Freud, for the duration of a Shakespeare play, the observer is induced and required to adopt the beliefs of the time frame. May the enemies of the city of God (pagans) be combated by one who falls under the spell of "Shakespeare's time?" Augustine said that Plato, whom he labels (in english) a demi-god, confides, "love of God is love of the True Goodness," though Platonists are polytheists. I witnessed Burton's Hamlet as a Ghost. a shadow of the older stage. Fast forward., Cullum's Laetres and Gielgud's staging.grand rocket science of craftsmanship with limited creativity, a beautiful telling of Our modern philosophical era - the emotion was ratcheted up by interpretations of the old thunder of a great performer.

Once 'jected

Puff puff pity
Tis tis taint
All spent on the whore
You should have, too
Picked the girl
Most beautiful
Regardless of your own wickedness.

My words have been wicked
Then never have I been
But wickedness does lie
And I, wickedness, have done the sin.

10.26.2007

Getting started

I don't want other people to be participating in my experience except sometimes when I hear music. I think I hear it better than they do. I know how to enjoy it better. Or my past has prepared me better for it. I, according to Lacan's conception of the ego, is an other. He puts it in italics in the printed Seminar II. And I'm telling you, that when I write this paragraph, the "I" has past. Music only once pulled me to desire invitation to shared experience, but that one moment pervades in recollection.

And in reading sometimes we feel that we are having a shared experience, lest we think only one person ever reads anything. There doesn't seem to be any question in my mind that Freud was an artist. He would like to have been called Science. He would have liked a lot of things.

10.25.2007

Wah

Have you ever talked to someone who complains about a negative response to the question "how are you?" If you don't answer with a positive, some askers of the common question will take note and judge you. They are people who have no regard for the arbitrary nature of mood. Keep saying "not too well" or even a simple hand gesture of so-so, dear compatriot. Confront those inquisitive souls with your unarticulated slump; they deserve it.

10.24.2007

Thick and Thin

State of ignorance. New state.
Cannot clean. Stains strong.
Jump back.

After Going West

Watched a Marx Brothers post-Zeppo movie called Go West. Laughed to myself, with Groucho, who laughs for no one. The music, as always, gets long sometimes. But I do enjoy seeing Chico perform at the piano, hearing Groucho sing sweet nothings; Harpo's best instrument is the horn; the harp part of this one is colder than some others, stalwart as ever. Harpo playing the harp becomes so serious, you wonder if maybe the whole thing is quite serious to him above them all.

Even Groucho for that matter. Or any matter.

10.14.2007

Lethargy Takes Time

Starting out with a word, you might get a little sick. It could mean anything, which word you chose. Could it mean nothing? Regurgitation comes to mind. Fire. Fire is a good word. Good word to start a story with. Fire. Then the rest of the text has to utilize some definition of that one first word.

Lethargy means I'll never right that book, unless one day I burn all this and move on with the life I intend to lead.

10.12.2007

Eye Captain.

This chump ain't bad. He ain't good neither. Or not better. Least far as I can see.

Now, as though now itself were a character in a small story, took a break. Down he sat upon a ledge. Traveling, he thought, is the best possible incurrence of my youth. Some sort of an empire withheld him from standing. Who are these people, the word lingered in contemplation before falling out of sight. Some new motherfucker, calling himself now, bust onto the scene.

Farmulation

We smoke. We drink. We try and get together. It takes time. Too much time. Forcing places from one fucking memory into the next. Integrated pornographic cheese.

10.05.2007

Still Stickin

Carl G.J. said that the act of separating oneself from the world, the act of individuating yourself, is an act of hatred. I don't like hatred, but I do like to think about people in terms of how to be different from them. I guess I only want to be different from the methods I despise in people, and not the people themselves. T'would be pretty silly to wish myself a non-person. In looking for differences you can appreciate the similarities you stumble upon. No methods of verification, no guarantees, but we manage to communicate or at least live as though we were communicating.

I try to get my thoughts to other people, my resolutions and stabs at irrationality. If rationality exists, and I believe it does, then I can't possibly do anything to disrupt its existence. It must be persistent in all cause and effect and in all interpretations of cause and effect. We say, "that didn't follow" or "that is random" if a person says something which appears to come from nowhere in the present. Even our note "rationality has little to do with spontaneous occurence" has been reached rationally. It was based on the thought that no reason can be found for a thing that has nothing to do with the subject at hand, or the natural order for all you know. Rationally we assume - that's knowledge. Rationally we reject mere assumption, if our rationality is to hold. There is a reason (if a choice was made) to assume or reject, whether we assume or reject assumption or anything, conceptual or not conceptual.

10.03.2007

Lennon's on Sale Again

I feel that Stephen Colbert has deconstructed the real interview, but not before Jon Stewart seriously toyed with it. Whatever. John Lennon, "Doin' what he was doin'" as he says in Watching the Wheels. Someone trying to save him from ruin. He could have used saving. It's things like his death that cause me to focus on reason as a problem. The reason for Jesus' death is very well captivated by the Gospels. For John there is not anything so spectacular. Well, genius though he likely generated, John Lennon was not the only Son of the Almighty. That does not mean he was not sacrificed.

That is, it does not mean that John Lennon's death has no meaning. Meaning seems reason enough to believe there is reason. Undisputed meaning is reason enough for life to be. Searching for meaning. Do you know what a mean is doing constantly? Meaning. Mean.

10.02.2007

Making CDs and Love

A fantasy in numbers of unworthy women.
"What's that?"
"It's nothing." Three times well, a nearly deceased method of social chastisement.
Too bad he died like a martyr. Or was it not too bad? He couldn't subscribe to "It's just what the nation needed" but someone else probably might disagree. After all, Franklin was not the one there. He decided to tell the story once again as though it had never been told. "My parents. This is kind of bizarre or it was for me at a time... My parents drove past the place where John Lennon was shot ten minutes before it happened. They drove by the Dakota. They made a point of looking at the building because they had been the night earlier. Some Bernstein party.
"Anyway they had been the night before and now they wanted to see it, so they went. That fuck was waiting in the bushes."
"He never had a daughter," Judy suddenly realized, "I would like to hear what she had to say about him."
You know what entered Franklin's head? "John'd be glad he didn't have a daughter because, well, damn he wouldn't want her going around talking about him to trash!"
Franklin sipped a glass and edged forward, spilt a little onto his chin. "I peed my pants."
"You're retarded." Judy knew that he didn't like being called that. He said he didn't like the word. What a crock of shit, she thought. If they act like whores they call them whores. "Get over it," she added.

10.01.2007

This Gives Me

I'm soft. I keep forgetting. I know I'm not always soft. I do things that most people will live in fear of all their lives. Still here I am soft and even scared of being seen. Never scared of making myself seen. I'm real good at that. I am practiced.

But to be seen. Just to be, and then seen. I have no butterflies but one to torment my stomach. And so now you are aware. And I am aware. And I wonder at how you may look at him.

I scream, "this has little to do with me as much as anybody." But, sadly, men talk of butterflies, to avoid the inevitable. Mine alone is alone. Wouldn't that be something if it were true? No it would not. It is only something, false as the something it came from. "Mine alone is alone" refering to some inner creature, said to move stomachs to anticipation and lightness, or anxiety, in flutters. A whole bunch of them, I said, is more preposterous than just one.

About the butterfly, was it a butterfly?

9.25.2007

The Moral Issue at Question

Already the witch had gone to look for the boy; some of them were happiest sitting and thinking while the others were content to try and appease the Giant with some other sacrifice, "to ease the Giant's simple sense of justice" they were content to offer the life of the person with the shortest straw. Still, it may be better to sit and hope that maybe the Giant would simply decide to leave them alone. So long as I can avoid giving myself up to the Giant, they each thought, all is not lost.

Not being the sort who knew their fate, each failed to appreciate the positional universality of the individual's crisis, combatting to survive along with others. All alone in a search for vitality and all together in a humanistic inevitability, they all stood for those moments in ignorance of how much they all shared in these moments. The Baker tried very hard to ask as many good questions as he could think of. Nothing was the question to save the day. Questions could not combat the Steward's high ground as one in the service of a King.

(Song about Giant's best interests sung by the Steward)

Returning with the young or otherwise maturing lad, the witch tries to serve him up, but those opposed overpower her, as she no longer has special control of elements. In the struggle, the witch manages to immitate Jack's voice, calling out for the Giant's love and affection.

The Giant's familiar attatchment to the boy rushes back to her. Sadly it does not compare with the love she has given her husband. Love from Giant to Giant is quite a thing you must understand. Jack, as the Giant saw with her ill-seeing pair of eyes, had murdered her husband and scampered off like a mouse. The Giant, in an attempt to squash the lad's voice, landed her foot right on top of the young man, his mother, the witch, and others who were close by.

Left to look over their good fortune, the "de jure" innocent bystanders picked up and moved on with what they had. It merely cost a footscrape on a tree, the loud voice echoed throughout the land, you may do your best now to live safe.

Though the Giant's grammer was below their own, they did as they were told.

9.24.2007

Shadow Bags

You can't write anything new if you're high. You can't write anything high if your family reads your blog. You're entitled to nothing, but seem to have something at the very least. The need to rhyme must not always be fulfilled. Happy torture is inferior to sad play -- to disagree, simply put, misses the mark. Develop a relationship to happiness and sadness in the large scheme. You should find the best results if you pursue rather than look for methods of differance, meanwhile feeling responsible for the torture of the world. What torture there is does not have to occupy your mind. "That's what the Tyrants want me to think." Either get on a plane, raise/give money, or make an emotionally accurate and stylistically immediate film about questions.

To go or not to go

As you all know from Mr. Nietzsche (yeah right) the Christian religion was born not out of love but out of resentment. Mr. Nietzsche, it was very important that you became an idiot. Lest we forget the young Tom Riddle and his vicious obsession with telling the truth. Nietzsche, your truth was truth, but it was always yours. Nietzsche as Voldemort or anti-savior doesn't account for his non-violence-- rectified, of course, by the National Socialists clever manipulation of what Nietzsche, dead and without voice, confirmed as an ideal.

America used it too, but radicalized it with a colorful outfit, spontaneous flight, and super strength greater than any in the DC Universe, save (temporarily) for the mysterious ogre, Doomsday. In other words, what Germany fell victim to in the form of a politician, a young group of Americans fall victim to every week as readers.

9.21.2007

New words Old words

Twiller -- Now why have I derived some pleasure from typing that. No reason that it should not be a word. This world of ours is complicated enough so that we can infuse new meaning into whatever we choose. Is the tower of Babel a phallus, much like that which has been erected by modernist thinkers, some language of symbols recognizable to everyone? Modernism, though, is about looking back and painting what you see. The Pen(is), nothing new.
Vandenberg writes that on the board a lot, but when I was a sophomore I wrote that several times into my notebook sans parenthesis: pen is pen is pen is pen is pen. I felt like I had cracked a code. By now, the representational meaning of anything should be under question. Never before turning back again, once or twice. The pen and the penis share for the artist or critic, man or woman--as far as what either actually means.
After all, meaning is found in dictionaries. Agents of Diction. Dick-shunaries. Get thee to a Dick-shunary.

9.20.2007

Baby Cracks Man Cracks

Thatsly unh fistly, herebother inerus dedrimate slack toorn faetherles winterbottom. Haveswallow horklebarries unh jam squig longforth. F'maltuous wigbirs. Yuckling however. Hindulated severally, notwise expectackled, soundwissickal gyriupwarddling yelp.

Timmering atrofor onside uvly parch. Setwith precrackt dan yar, pale twas. Op forted ra'lhs tord crocked conpav'hs. "Nuffingscreamin. Eerfingsite." (Nigh wee twas, shlapthappelled formtwisser. Furr theesu goot ur goots.)







Oh, Taern Falcon of the Shep
How we wept when you were torn
You were swept away,
And your father's mind at the fell,
swept away from the land of the living.

And crack down the man did watch and hear the crack down,
But heard he nothing after, for you had gone.
(He did smile some days, with thinks of little lambs, all their good and goods)

9.19.2007

France Joins the Good Fight, once again.

They mean it when they say it. Which means that when they say it, it must be treated as true, to them. If I think that what I think is true while I think it, then (as far as that perpetual "they" can tell) it is true for me while I think it.

While I think it qualifies as a proof, I cannot say of what. It is a comment upon the fleeting nature of truth and the kind of deception that must be tangled with to nab at it.

It is a comment upon a comment upon. Down with a comment upon.

9.18.2007

Untitled Independant F---

Not that I'm on a Jesus fit, but here we go. Jesus acts a very good counter-simplification to someone like Freud who has the effect of confusing the intellectual and the body by linking them to instinct and particularly sexual instinct. There is intellectual love (eg. love for reading) that trancends sex and time and not quite the body, but almost the body. Jesus is a tee.

We gotta have sex. The uterus. That's the thing. Now, the question remains how far must we transcend sex to say, "this is better than sex"? I would say 'twere difficult to answer such a question. Still it is repeated on television all the time, "that was better than sex." How many people mean it when they say that?

Deception is wrapping paper and editing equipment. You make due with what you have.

Anyway, as a challenge,


I'm thinking I should burn this wall post. Agreeing with yourself is absolutely redundant.

9.16.2007

Following Sandman's apt definition

Miracles were never meant as proof of anything. Reading in a response to Satan about rocks being made into bread: Jesus finds something evil in the temptation to use a strength in order to prove himself, eat something, forget this 40 days business (which was considered loopy by more than one person), and submit to a temptation that has no contribution to love or survival. Jesus had faith that he could do with the things he had been given, out in the desert. Chiefmost in the mind of the author is the fact that Jesus refused to turn rock into bread. Just because he can did not mean he should, let alone at the request for a spectacle by a demon. Forget pride. The man had dignity... something which, as far as I can see, no man really has in the entirety of his actions. That can not possibly be possible...unless. And my dear friends, that is the heart of the Christian church. The unless. "Can I be the man with the most dignity?", the question drives some men who seek to save their souls through perfection. We may as well shout it from rooftops, we still won't get an answer. Or worse, an answer will come in the form of a profound embarrassment. Something which will bewilder your once system of values with a resounding, "NO!"

What I mean is: dignity's good and admirable, but society, law, and the unconscious are, sadly, not measured by dignity. They are measured in Luck, Secrecy, and Ambition. Why must we find Jesus not only to be the Son of God, but necessarily to be the Son of God, performing only the kinds of miracles which have significance to human welfare in their entirety, arrighting Nature to be always God's and to show that the Nature is good? Not all men are well-wishing. Those are men against the nature of man, or misinformed.

9.15.2007

Breaking the eggs

I post for post. I miss my homeland. There's nothing in New York but manmade rocks. Low creatures stretching high into the air. Backwards town. Makes my head spin. I never understood why someone would be afraid of Virginia Woolf until today. Tansley, feeling proud, walking next to a beautiful woman, carrying her bag.

9.06.2007

Castration anxiety blues

I said cunnilingus today... that was fun. I'd do well to control my rumbles of fury... for persons and for my time ill spent. The same instructor whom I reference in my very first entry, named Anidjar, pointed out yesterday that life is a waste of time. Not so much a complaint or a statement as it is a partial definition. Makes you value what's outside of your control a little more heavily. Maybe it weighs you down.

That's what it did to me. At least it made me aware. Grateful. The Lerner piano can really provide a comfort. I don't know who this is... the musician, the composer. Doesn't even matter.


Corn in my coffee
Baby I got the blues
Corn in my coffee
Baby I got the blues
Clean those motherfuckin' dishes
or I will skimp on yo' shoes (""ForrrreEvER!!!"")

9.05.2007

Balls

KCST (King's Crown Shakespeare Troupe) has no space. Fantastic. Well. I can dedicate myself to whatever onstage endeavor I find tasteful. Was hoping to direct a little something something. You can't always get what you want. Somehow the party space and the basement of St. Paul's do not appeal to my vision for the Massacre at Paris. St. Paul's is cool. Too small.

Fuckety fuck fuck.

8.31.2007

Earthquakes and great fears

Disgusting habit
Stick the hand out of the window
Drop the brights and browns into the funnel
You don't have time to watch them fall
Anyway you do
Watch the drop

Steep tolls clank and clack

Enjoy this part of cowardice
It could be different
There's a light little problem
It can be different

From either end of a broken heart...
You're blocking the road.

8.21.2007

Come on and shake!

I visited a Shaker Village on Monday. Those little bundles of conserved sexuality had something going for them. The simplicity elicited from their architecture and craftsmanship and, above all, their practical sense allows for meaning and beauty in pure space. I'm not saying we should all be celibate, but I do say, "the end of simplicity is spiritual luxury." Some people refuse to even consider the sin of wanting more than they need.
What exactly does George Bush want? Does he want a response? Was he responding to someone in the first place?
The president is nothing higher than a common soldier, taking orders. He should be on the ground with them where he belongs.

8.17.2007

Grain of salt

I swear never again to revere the fact of creation. There are so many movies. There's so much television. Just because we stick a camera down on something doesn't make us artists nor does it transform film to art. You may be one of those idealist junkies that thinks celluloid is art before it even touches the light. Well. How does this pat on the back feel you little artist you. Goochie goo, baby. You might have Dada but you don't have a mama. Real art has both.
And art is real by the way. If something doesn't have an art, then it is not art. A soup can. Aha. The art of selling. To me, that is not art worth calling art nor is it art worth shelling out bills for, unless I want to taste tomato.

8.15.2007

Butter and bread are better than you said

His bastard soul had a richer goal.
The head's a start. We'll dice the heart.
Where your end is meet, we reach the feet.

Our science peaks, and cannot cease
Getting nowhere now,
Progress progress.

The forward is, and knows and goes
Our science grows, with Devil's toes.
Oh they have faith,
in clones and clones.
Most carefully in overtones.
"Fuck the hearts," is proof of smarts.
So, my friend, well what'll it be?

Seek that special witchcraft. Four W's and arts. Yeah. Good luck. Poorest of the poor. Bastards of the mind.
Who but harkens unto Christ, well he, my friend, will not be diced.

8.13.2007

To each his own (demands on women)

From imdb.com:

Hustle & Flow star Terrence Howard refuses to date women who don't use moistened tissue on visits to the toilet - as they are "not completely clean." The Oscar-nominated actor insists potential female suitors must not rely solely on toilet tissues in the bathroom, and even goes to the trouble of advising any partners to make the switch to baby wipes if they don't already use them. He tells Elle magazine, "If they're using dry paper, they aren't washing all of themselves. It's just unclean. So if I go inside a woman's house and see the toilet paper there, I'll explain this. And if she doesn't make the adjustment to baby wipes, I'll know she's not completely clean."

NOW this man is the opposite of Mick Jagger, who prefers women that are unclean. I have no proof of this except that he's English... Seriously though if you haven't bathed in a while, Jagger is your man. If you blow-dry your crack, you might take Howard for a spin. All shapes, sizes and smells make the world go round and don't let anyone ever tell you differently.

8.07.2007

On language-rape

I'm sick of this field that looms above our heads and fills us with the desire to declare, "that's gay" or even simply, "gay." Like you've discovered America. Well, Christopher Columbus, many things are gay. Some kinds of sex are gay, some movies are gay, and some people are gay. If you are able to discern this, good for you. Maybe some things aren't as obviously gay as others. If you can discern those well then, doubly good for you.

Frankly, I don't think it's all that exciting. Nor do I think you are all that special or funny.

A love exists that is not man to woman (woman to man) and it's labeled with "gay," even if it's for words or colors. People love to call camaraderie gay. So within the culture of sexual labeling, camaraderie is suppressed.

Let's stop with this "that's gay" shit, even if you are gay. If you say it to be poignant or funny you're retarding what's there. If you say it to be hateful you're only feeding your problem. "That's gay," is a cry into a perpetually unintelligent abyss.

8.03.2007

Discourage

I think about how many people actually believe that the world is going to end in a biblical 7-year reign of the antichrist and that seems worth talking about, but most people are turned off by that. So the whole culture of discomfort/silence with real issues kind of bothers me. For me whenever someone brings that stuff up it means we're getting closer to the heart of the issues and problems with todays society; something might be learned in the course of the conversation. People don't want to learn though because learning has been siphoned into unpleasantness by the economy of education. Its not that I'm uninterested in what other people have to say about their personal lives, but I'm discouraged when people are uninterested in the things that actually mean something to the world at large. There are so many serious topics that its very easy to turn everything into a joke or not pay any attention to it. Somehow if it isn't aimed at peace or figuring out how people feel about spiritual issues, I find it superfluous. I don't think very many people believe in peace. They definitely don't believe in talking about it.

Impressions

Have you ever written something and then thought, "that's not me" so quickly you erased it and replaced it with something that more closely approximates your impression of yourself?

7.24.2007

There are space invaders telling me what to write.

Lucidity is not always a guarantee, but I do my best. Roughing through space and time singes the logic. We're always moving fast along with the earth on its twirl. I know that and I never stop knowing that. You probably haven't thought about it too seriously.

Coming down upon me at any time are those air pressures. Worse, the knowledge of them. They are nothing to my body and everything to my mind so that I am smaller than otherwise. More confined. What the hell is this? Zipping elements which sometimes attract and meld.

We make uniquely new forms without losing the old formula.

I have no point. Things are happening.

7.11.2007

Where do you get offfffffffffuckit

www.thehappinessfactor.com can be yours for one low low price. Has not been claimed. Beautiful shining words which can draw people to your specially-made sight.

Of course I've claimed it just now as artistic property, being as I'm advertising for it and everything, and wrote the sight myself before it was revealed by the internet, and not a person, as being empty. Part of that site is mine. Which part is mine, the other does not belong to the internet, but to that collective subconscious that is ruled by the read and written (spoken) word. Is it perhaps? all that is written cannot venture past a certain point. All that is written will be... ok well may we not write along and seek to entertain ourselves as well as look to the past shit written about future shit which guides my present, bowl-filling shit?

Craig and Albert --

A: All that we see is greater than what we see, for we only view a fraction, even when we believe ourselves to have conceived the whole. Dilemma no longer, the existential terrified, the proverb never turns.
(he enters sans markings)
C: Conceived the whole what?
A: The whole thing.
C: What things?
A: Ummm, I don't know.
C: You can't describe them?
A: There's only one.
C: Of whom?
A: There's only one of what I was talking about.
C: You need to keep the story straight.
A: You've made it into some kind of event.
C: You don't make any sense!
A: It's a moment that's stretched over the moments which surround it on either side.
C: There is no way to take a side over a moment. You can't take sides, asshole.
A: What don't you know.
C: That... was that a question... you never made any sense.
A: Well, I wasn't crazy. C: You're chuckling.

(Albert dies)
A: That suddenly made sense, Love.

Gabriel: Where's Albert?
C: Who wants to know?
(Gabriel marks Craig and goes)
C: Hey! Hey! Hey!
Rachel: Come over this way and I'll try to pretend you've got something I want.
C: Sounds nice.
R: Oh. Damn.
C: Let's make.
R: God damn.
C: Let's never die.
R: Holy God damn.

A: Nice guys never finish. Brother, you finished.
C: Did you say something?
R: Only if you wanted me to.

5.09.2007

More

Have a poem that I'd like to share
I share it in hopes
That perhaps you will spare yourself from evil dreams

A book has power - that's the image we gave
But a book in itself is a probable slave
I'm digging myself an early grave
By trying to some up
This bum of a man
That I think I know well
Because I can well it up
Whenever I choose
This "I think"
Means whatever it means
These evil dreams
Perpendicular souls
Required in a competition
With what is other.
You're not alone
but goddamn
You're going to have to fight!

A Few of my F------- Things

I think the hurly burly's done
The Homo Sapien's lost its fun
The Spirit father's son of man
Can walk the above
Maintain his tan
There is no greater fish to fry
The fish beneath our feet will fly
But this man walks where we cannot
We must assure that he will rot
Look at him Bleed
Look at him Bleed
No other corpse is cause to feed

4.03.2007

Strict interpretation of desire for boldness of the part of Nietzsche himself.

Here you can say what you damn well please! I know my rights and nothing shall make me have my rights start to turn against me by calling me a criminal before I've had the chance to get some publicity. I have translated for modern english impact a few lines of Nietzsche. Strictly the lines are

Yes my joy wants to amuse
every joy wants to amuse
would you like to pick my roses

you must stoop and stick your noses between
Thorns and rocky views

It's childish in America to write in such a way. Though Nietzsche was a child in certain respects, his tone somewhat diverges into maturation as it reflects upon itself. Unfortunately for Nietzsche that maturation included the insanity of his mind. I wonder how he felt about being called crazy. Were his final thoughts ones of resentment?

Yeah the joy desires entertainment
All the joy said yes to entertainment
Want to pick this rose you do

Then bend low
and shove your nostrils
betwixt green fangs and cliffsides

3.08.2007

Clarificacion

Theatre is the understandable. Philosophy is the observatory. One is not possible without the other.

wait no

I meant that Philosophy is the understandable and that theatre is the observatory. That makes (faster) sense to (most) other people.

3.01.2007

Split P (and T) Soup

Philosophy and Theatre make for one fucked up and dramatic sense of meaning. Oftentimes my passion has been confused for anger. There's a chance that this confusion was my own; I was convicted so as to blame some enemy for suppressing me before understanding. When you empathize with a split personality, you understand it by coming as close to experiencing it as possible without becoming the thing which you observe. It is a phenomenon of powerful observation and powerful (and understandable) communication. My split occurs along the theatrical philosophy. All the world's etc. etc. etc.

2.18.2007

No style.

At what point do we as artists discontinue the observation of our own selves? Draw in what is directly in front of you. In the digital age it is very possible to see ourselves in so many different directions. There is nothing to learn and grow from except the things which are observed and recognized as being a part of the desired self. These are, as a friend of mine said, nothing more than fortune cookie lines without a chinese translation on the back. Everything is getting better all the time.

2.12.2007

The McCartney Love/Hate

Which of the Karamazov Brothers was Paul that he could appear so lovingly and yet have generated so much resentment. We'd all have to think of him, in relation to the others, as Alyosha. My conjecture is that he is Smerdyakov more probably. Not because he is a bastard maybe child of a genius drunkard. Paul is Smerdyakov for the duality to his personality which all of us know must exist. And he hides it away. Smerdyakov is the only brother who is truly two-faced.

And So I believe that Paul is both Smerdyakov and Alyosha. John has to be Ivan and more likely Dmitri outside of the band, where passion can come full force. John does not believe in Alyosha. John is maybe too truthful.

In Regards to Smerdyakov: he was one-facedly evil as far as his particular will to commit murder. Though the other brothers share a degree of guilt, Dmitri's stall at the window exculpates him. Ivan is Guy in Strangers on a Train - sufficient reason to doubt any explicit knowledge of murder. Freud disagrees, all of them share in that little bit of evil.

Maybe John fooled himself into thinking he didn't believe in Alyosha.

2.11.2007

You're feelin' good.

A guard in the Hartley who was rocking to the funk let me know that, for my information, he could immitate a perfect James Brown, dance-move-wise. I then asked him if he had seen Dreamgirls, hoping to identify about Eddie Murphy being good. He was somewise upset that I brought it up. Probably he was mourning James Brown's death, unimpressed, "I mean, Eddie Murphy. He's silly."

........Anna Nicole Smith.

2.02.2007

The Lord's Prayer and Time

I could stare at anything for hours, but could never find any justification for doing so. Take, for example, the thousands of years that we've been reading the lord's prayer. It has dissapeared from my conscious realm, but can never possibly escape me, having been drilled so deep. We have read a single sentence of Freud for 3.5 hours in my Middle Eastern Comparative Literature course. The instructor told us, "I have not read Freud for a thousand years yet, but i'm hopeful. Maybe together we can reach something."