Grab a fistful while you can
The force of life is going fast
Behold a bubble from the man
Worth twenty-two of poorer caste
But fondle it and sure it pops
Forget the strength he said it had
Just quickly whisk the solution drops
Into the biggest bowl for oldest dad
He needs it more than any young fuck
To keep you floating in his zoo
The glue depends on more than luck
And green or red or white or blue
Just shut your mouth and listen good
Vote with the bubble or forfeit food
9.26.2008
9.23.2008
Rest Assured
The greater part of grumble is Jewish guilt
Forward half the sea to Uzbekistan for child support
Kill seven to eight fierce little Mugabes
Light a wicker setter well enough for Hollywood
Train him to do cunning stunts
He will thank you for it
Don’t grate Welch cheese on English salad
Intern intern number five
He will thank you for it
Fuck George Bush’s wife
Teach him what’s wrong with America
Now you have completed steps
Now you come to the door of a queer farmer
Don’t let him shoot you
Better not tell him you’re queer
Most of all
Rest assured
Forward half the sea to Uzbekistan for child support
Kill seven to eight fierce little Mugabes
Light a wicker setter well enough for Hollywood
Train him to do cunning stunts
He will thank you for it
Don’t grate Welch cheese on English salad
Intern intern number five
He will thank you for it
Fuck George Bush’s wife
Teach him what’s wrong with America
Now you have completed steps
Now you come to the door of a queer farmer
Don’t let him shoot you
Better not tell him you’re queer
Most of all
Rest assured
9.17.2008
After Standing Up
Please did
"Please do!"
Forgive me
"Please forgive me"
I'm serious
"Not really"
I wish I were serious
"You are"
I wanted people to take me seriously
"Your wishes and wantful waitings bore me, quite frankly"
Don't break in a tizzy like that
"I have no choice but to be quite honest with you"
I don't trust your honesty
"Now it is your honesty which is false"
You mean just then it was
"Now it was"
Now it is, really
"Really"
Fascinating
"I love you"
Please love me
"Give me real"
I want it
Give me real
"I miss you"
(The Who or Petra Haden's Our Love Was)
"Please do!"
Forgive me
"Please forgive me"
I'm serious
"Not really"
I wish I were serious
"You are"
I wanted people to take me seriously
"Your wishes and wantful waitings bore me, quite frankly"
Don't break in a tizzy like that
"I have no choice but to be quite honest with you"
I don't trust your honesty
"Now it is your honesty which is false"
You mean just then it was
"Now it was"
Now it is, really
"Really"
Fascinating
"I love you"
Please love me
"Give me real"
I want it
Give me real
"I miss you"
(The Who or Petra Haden's Our Love Was)
8.28.2008
The Industry
There go all my ideas
You heard them
You saw them fall into the dream
And evaporate
What does not become tapped
Touches the fringe of your buddies
And their static mind
Burns into the future as an event
The films keep getting released
Without a single reason as to why
Except to keep the screeners large
Whilst the gems hit children in the face
You heard them
You saw them fall into the dream
And evaporate
What does not become tapped
Touches the fringe of your buddies
And their static mind
Burns into the future as an event
The films keep getting released
Without a single reason as to why
Except to keep the screeners large
Whilst the gems hit children in the face
8.09.2008
7.16.2008
Every now and then I'll turn
To the list of all the unpublished posts:
Published and unpublished I scroll
Feeling for the little blue edit
Published and unpublished I scroll
Feeling for the little blue edit
7.09.2008
Up from Middle Mark
Did we go down
To the river
Only to find
That something was missing?
No no no
The river was rolling
And we found peace
One man jumps in
To the river
He finds his way
To promise and freedom
Hail hail hail
Our freedom becomes him
We follow him home
That old holy whale
Makes a house of a jail
But you open your own
Yes you open your own
So come down
And walk now
Not alone
Did we go down
To the river
Only to find
That something was missing?
No no no
The river was rolling
We found by God
To the river
Only to find
That something was missing?
No no no
The river was rolling
And we found peace
One man jumps in
To the river
He finds his way
To promise and freedom
Hail hail hail
Our freedom becomes him
We follow him home
That old holy whale
Makes a house of a jail
But you open your own
Yes you open your own
So come down
And walk now
Not alone
Did we go down
To the river
Only to find
That something was missing?
No no no
The river was rolling
We found by God
6.29.2008
The Moose's Tale
I was wandering along the streets last night
When someone spotted a friendly old moose.
The moose was eager to tell his tale of woe,
So I told that moose that I had a friendly ear
And the moose believed my words
And this is what I hear
"A little old mouse with a long black tail left his wife and his childr'n to go and get the mail. What the mouse didn't know was that a young man-child loved mouses and would steal him away.
But little old mouse was a smart old thing so he stood on two legs and began to sing-
He said, 'Somebody get me a gun.
Somebody get me a gun.
If you don't right now I will shoot you anyhow
I said somebody get me a gun.'
Now this little boy was a stupid little brat - he simply hid the mouse beneath a Yankee baseball hat, and the mouse crawled out and at the top of his voice he proclaimed, he proclaimed, he proclaimed.
He said, 'Somebody get me a gun
Somebody get me a gun
And if you hit me with that broom
I swear upon Gouda I will kill every mother in this room"
Well the little boy smashed and the mouse he dashed and something went awry. For the little boy's father had a pistol for safe keeping in a little tiny hole that the mouse did find. So the mouse shot the boy and the mouse shot the mother and the mouse went outside and he killed the boy's brother and when the mouse had decided that he'd had his druthers, the father stumbles in and he meets the boy and brother
Shoutin', "Somebody get me a gun
Somebody near better run
Cuz I love my wife and I love my babies
More than any of you shits would ever know."
So I said to the moose, "What's the bother with the mouse, cuz if you ask me straight, I would call the mouse a louse. He's a shit and he shot a little innocent boy; what's the deal with this tale that you tell?"
The moose looked up and he said with a shrug, "If you give a mouse a gun, then it's worse than doing drugs." And the moose trotted off and I heard myself singing, though I can't remember why.
I said, "Somebody get me a gun
Somebody get me a gun
If you don't get me a gun I will shoot you in the head
You'll be dead you'll be dead"
When someone spotted a friendly old moose.
The moose was eager to tell his tale of woe,
So I told that moose that I had a friendly ear
And the moose believed my words
And this is what I hear
"A little old mouse with a long black tail left his wife and his childr'n to go and get the mail. What the mouse didn't know was that a young man-child loved mouses and would steal him away.
But little old mouse was a smart old thing so he stood on two legs and began to sing-
He said, 'Somebody get me a gun.
Somebody get me a gun.
If you don't right now I will shoot you anyhow
I said somebody get me a gun.'
Now this little boy was a stupid little brat - he simply hid the mouse beneath a Yankee baseball hat, and the mouse crawled out and at the top of his voice he proclaimed, he proclaimed, he proclaimed.
He said, 'Somebody get me a gun
Somebody get me a gun
And if you hit me with that broom
I swear upon Gouda I will kill every mother in this room"
Well the little boy smashed and the mouse he dashed and something went awry. For the little boy's father had a pistol for safe keeping in a little tiny hole that the mouse did find. So the mouse shot the boy and the mouse shot the mother and the mouse went outside and he killed the boy's brother and when the mouse had decided that he'd had his druthers, the father stumbles in and he meets the boy and brother
Shoutin', "Somebody get me a gun
Somebody near better run
Cuz I love my wife and I love my babies
More than any of you shits would ever know."
So I said to the moose, "What's the bother with the mouse, cuz if you ask me straight, I would call the mouse a louse. He's a shit and he shot a little innocent boy; what's the deal with this tale that you tell?"
The moose looked up and he said with a shrug, "If you give a mouse a gun, then it's worse than doing drugs." And the moose trotted off and I heard myself singing, though I can't remember why.
I said, "Somebody get me a gun
Somebody get me a gun
If you don't get me a gun I will shoot you in the head
You'll be dead you'll be dead"
Poser Poser
Whispered twisted clay
Is making my decisions
But everything to say
Has five different visions
And somehow it seems clear
That you
Will find number seven
Hunting was today
Nothing was before
Criminalite
Has stumbled through the door
And I know
That foolery and feelings go together
Why doesn't lots of fun sound like a lot of fun
Why doesn't lots of fun sound like a lot of fun
Juggling jesters score
Melodramatic monster trucks
They keep them off the floor-
Five hundred rabbits fuck fuck fuck and
Make twelve hundred more
While you and she were sleeping
Move
You've got nothing left
Stand up
Is making my decisions
But everything to say
Has five different visions
And somehow it seems clear
That you
Will find number seven
Hunting was today
Nothing was before
Criminalite
Has stumbled through the door
And I know
That foolery and feelings go together
Why doesn't lots of fun sound like a lot of fun
Why doesn't lots of fun sound like a lot of fun
Juggling jesters score
Melodramatic monster trucks
They keep them off the floor-
Five hundred rabbits fuck fuck fuck and
Make twelve hundred more
While you and she were sleeping
Move
You've got nothing left
Stand up
6.26.2008
Attempting Politics
John McCain looks us in the eye (camera) and tells us "I hate war." Which is it, then? One hundred years in Iraq or victory by urgency of old McCain's hatred? You've got some 'splaining to do with your flip-flops by the way (on the tax cuts, the war, and how they came beautifully at the same time). Unlike John Kerry's flip-floppery (thank you Karl Rove), John McCain's flipping is quite real and... let's call it substantial.
I don't trust anything a Republican says. In my day, you could spot young Republicans a mile off. They're the one's calling one another fag (nu-uh, we only call fags fags, fag). They do it in order to assure themselves of their own nutsack. You see, no one loves testicles more than a young Republican. Not to say that Democrats don't love testicles... because they do.
Democrats are taking a shot at beacon status these days. Hope for hope to carry the day. So where can I stand in this thing? I should get a girlfriend. Been long enough. Anyway, the election is a tricky thing because politicians are a heck of a thing to have to choose. Obama said he would allow for five days of public internet posting before he signs any bill. Who's going to read the postings, let alone the bills? I accept the democratic gesture as long as the President takes responsibility for his decision-making no matter who and how many others he listens to. I'm sure at the end the signing of the bills won't just be a majority yes-no contest. Obama's a smart guy.
Bush has made me paranoid, fearful, and in the case of the Patriot Act he seemed to be calling me an idiot to my face. Even my unborn children were stepped on by that joke (it was a joke, right?) Bush is such a monumental suck-head that change as an answer seems like an understatement of sorts. The trick is to know what's good about the standing order as well as what is "broken," and to change only what will account for a difference for the better.
Obama asks me to believe in his ability to bring about a change. I wish I understood the greater substance of such a change before I was asked to believe in it. Giving all Americans the health plan of a Senator is a brilliant concept. I personally think that Doctors should be paid as much as school teachers and should help everyone they are able to help whether they see a penny for it or not. All school teachers should be paid double what they are paid now, of course. Is the best doctor the best doctor because of his paycheck, or the teacher the same? Do we not allow both to become the best, and give them respect and luxuries along the way? Always equipment has to be taken care of, but not above the lives of the doctors and the citizens and anyone asking for healing. As the maintenance and acquisition of equipment is linked to the care over the lives of patients, it should be provided for on a basis of need and preventative care for emergencies in cities.
I don't trust anything a Republican says. In my day, you could spot young Republicans a mile off. They're the one's calling one another fag (nu-uh, we only call fags fags, fag). They do it in order to assure themselves of their own nutsack. You see, no one loves testicles more than a young Republican. Not to say that Democrats don't love testicles... because they do.
Democrats are taking a shot at beacon status these days. Hope for hope to carry the day. So where can I stand in this thing? I should get a girlfriend. Been long enough. Anyway, the election is a tricky thing because politicians are a heck of a thing to have to choose. Obama said he would allow for five days of public internet posting before he signs any bill. Who's going to read the postings, let alone the bills? I accept the democratic gesture as long as the President takes responsibility for his decision-making no matter who and how many others he listens to. I'm sure at the end the signing of the bills won't just be a majority yes-no contest. Obama's a smart guy.
Bush has made me paranoid, fearful, and in the case of the Patriot Act he seemed to be calling me an idiot to my face. Even my unborn children were stepped on by that joke (it was a joke, right?) Bush is such a monumental suck-head that change as an answer seems like an understatement of sorts. The trick is to know what's good about the standing order as well as what is "broken," and to change only what will account for a difference for the better.
Obama asks me to believe in his ability to bring about a change. I wish I understood the greater substance of such a change before I was asked to believe in it. Giving all Americans the health plan of a Senator is a brilliant concept. I personally think that Doctors should be paid as much as school teachers and should help everyone they are able to help whether they see a penny for it or not. All school teachers should be paid double what they are paid now, of course. Is the best doctor the best doctor because of his paycheck, or the teacher the same? Do we not allow both to become the best, and give them respect and luxuries along the way? Always equipment has to be taken care of, but not above the lives of the doctors and the citizens and anyone asking for healing. As the maintenance and acquisition of equipment is linked to the care over the lives of patients, it should be provided for on a basis of need and preventative care for emergencies in cities.
6.13.2008
Gas Leak
In the 1960s the conservative agenda had hoses and guns to hold off blacks and students. These days they have the more respected corners of the Fox News Channel. Lets face the music or listen to it for once. Republicans have taken change, the color green, the word patriot, and freedom; they will continue to suck them dry meanwhile accusing liberals of causing confusion. Saddam Hussein was responsible for the events of September 11. Nice and clear, Mr. Cheney. Clearly, you find me stupid. The stupider I am, the better friends we're apt to be. War doesn't pay for itself? War doesn't pay. Period.
6.04.2008
स्तेफें Colbert
Colbert has fudged his name again (third and most relaxed time I seen it), slipping back into the non-French pronunciation. This time he was not trying to stay angry at Korean pop star Rain, but trying to "keep it together." That's right the nomination is in and the whole thing is coming to a long-awaited beginning and Barack Obama is the (presumptive) Democratic nominee. I'm pretty darned excited for that because I hope that the Americans may start to recognize America. That's right. Some concern has been expressed about our States. The question arises: is America ready for a black President? Some people answer no to this question before taking the time to consider that it is they who are answering the question. If you answer no to this question, please don't blame it on America. If you have to blame someone, and I can't believe I even have to say this, you have to blame yourself. Blaming the media will not suffice if we are to truly combat racial hatred and racism.
This was not really about Stephen Colbert. Ummm... I just want some responsibility to be... hey now that McClellan's book is out, shouldn't we be able to impeach that sucker? Wait... Cheney was their protection against any attempt at such a thing. Remember how smart all the Republicans said he was leading up to 2000? Like, "Hey we know Bush is dumb, but look at his running mate!!" Yeah. Thanks, guys.
This was not really about Stephen Colbert. Ummm... I just want some responsibility to be... hey now that McClellan's book is out, shouldn't we be able to impeach that sucker? Wait... Cheney was their protection against any attempt at such a thing. Remember how smart all the Republicans said he was leading up to 2000? Like, "Hey we know Bush is dumb, but look at his running mate!!" Yeah. Thanks, guys.
Wordless
I feel that I missed
An opportunity to view
Sitting down with you
And seeing Wild Strawberries
I flew the room
Missed my old rug
And hurt myself
Turning to face what
I wished were now you
The pitiful mulling pate
I resisted nothing
That could pull me
Starkly downward
I might even hit
The seventh floor
An opportunity to view
Sitting down with you
And seeing Wild Strawberries
I flew the room
Missed my old rug
And hurt myself
Turning to face what
I wished were now you
The pitiful mulling pate
I resisted nothing
That could pull me
Starkly downward
I might even hit
The seventh floor
6.02.2008
The Stars are So Big
Give me a home
o Give me a home
Where I fell and I think and I lay
Where burdens are surd
And the pull its been slurred
And a steers in a slut every day
Bored
Bored and deranged
Slurpin' fears, and a mystical grain
And burped in a herd
And scourged on a word
And meals are not hurdely plain
Love
Love and in Love
With a monkey and wench and a girl
I love her I do
And until you have proof
I will say she's as chaste as a lamb
no
a life sustaining planet
maybe
a birth
- damn rhymes -
a squirrel
o Give me a home
Where I fell and I think and I lay
Where burdens are surd
And the pull its been slurred
And a steers in a slut every day
Bored
Bored and deranged
Slurpin' fears, and a mystical grain
And burped in a herd
And scourged on a word
And meals are not hurdely plain
Love
Love and in Love
With a monkey and wench and a girl
I love her I do
And until you have proof
I will say she's as chaste as a lamb
no
a life sustaining planet
maybe
a birth
- damn rhymes -
a squirrel
5.27.2008
Love Letter to John
We took th' Blacks
Boys steal from Zeppelins
Happens in the trades
Kintu space, relax
Flexing speckled harlequins
Have pulled the grace of spades
Got to say
My life has a purpose
With nothings so few
What can I relay
My whole bluffing circus
And it's not strictly you
When you have no sense
What you have
Cuts the core
Then you have new sense
What you have
Still wills more
Ancient bung beetles ten
Cow tongue slowly
Left, right and complete
More heedful men
Meet the solar holy
Branded feet
Mind Games is only worth playing
Jackelopes radio for scraps
Well and just - I think that John stares
Asked for music, staying
Pounded down into the salty taps
Lightning and glitterlight mirrorless cares
Boys steal from Zeppelins
Happens in the trades
Kintu space, relax
Flexing speckled harlequins
Have pulled the grace of spades
Got to say
My life has a purpose
With nothings so few
What can I relay
My whole bluffing circus
And it's not strictly you
When you have no sense
What you have
Cuts the core
Then you have new sense
What you have
Still wills more
Ancient bung beetles ten
Cow tongue slowly
Left, right and complete
More heedful men
Meet the solar holy
Branded feet
Mind Games is only worth playing
Jackelopes radio for scraps
Well and just - I think that John stares
Asked for music, staying
Pounded down into the salty taps
Lightning and glitterlight mirrorless cares
5.24.2008
Still Sleeping with Censorship?
According to the yahoo news headline, Russian Communists want to ban the Indiana Jones film. Way to show that you've changed, reds. Why don't you just shoot Spielberg. That would really show them you mean business. Or how about you just stick to your economic principles and start listening. In other words, quit whining. Sometimes people disagree with communists. Sometimes people even make up adventure stories. I once made a movie about a communist. To be fair that movie should have been banned, but only because of the part where the communist rapes the film projector. Not suitable for anyone.
Growth and Culture
Today there was the movie
Today there was not just that
Tickets
Receipts
Receipts will print before the Tickets
Prove it
Jelly beans
Trivia
Sequence
I know who James Band was
I know who he was and when
Sucked though
Horrible
Too many babies
Violent
Its real
That baby knows it is
The parents
Take them out
But nothing
You're hurting him
"Give that kid a sour patch kid
For God's sake"
At least they
At least they
At least they
At least
I mean
I hope they enjoyed the film
Plug your ears, son.
"Forget the sour patch kid
Bring on the baptism"
Today there was not just that
Tickets
Receipts
Receipts will print before the Tickets
Prove it
Jelly beans
Trivia
Sequence
I know who James Band was
I know who he was and when
Sucked though
Horrible
Too many babies
Violent
Its real
That baby knows it is
The parents
Take them out
But nothing
You're hurting him
"Give that kid a sour patch kid
For God's sake"
At least they
At least they
At least they
At least
I mean
I hope they enjoyed the film
Plug your ears, son.
"Forget the sour patch kid
Bring on the baptism"
Contagious
She's pretty
She's got better
She's getting better
Her face is floozy
Her arms angelic
Her waist a wonder
Her gravity goddess
Tell her, you fool
Too bad for me
I don't have the heart
But I can't tell her that
She won't like that at all
So I'll be lying to her
No matter what
This is my stop
"I love you!"
Fucking idiot
She's got better
She's getting better
Her face is floozy
Her arms angelic
Her waist a wonder
Her gravity goddess
Tell her, you fool
Too bad for me
I don't have the heart
But I can't tell her that
She won't like that at all
So I'll be lying to her
No matter what
This is my stop
"I love you!"
Fucking idiot
5.21.2008
Undesirable
Rifling through peopled mains
Friends undiscovered
Strangers plenty familiar
For faces are faces too
Thank you painful old sailor
Hammering your hands
Addicted to repairs
Level your ignorance
Or bend your knee
And take a big long drink
As little guppies
Scum for food
Pondering the pond
Friends undiscovered
Strangers plenty familiar
For faces are faces too
Thank you painful old sailor
Hammering your hands
Addicted to repairs
Level your ignorance
Or bend your knee
And take a big long drink
As little guppies
Scum for food
Pondering the pond
5.14.2008
An English Play
An English Play
by Thomas Anawalt
An English Play
In thickly representative accents, the actors take their stage. A gathering of kings, if you will. They have with them an American in a cage.
Scottish: (Speaking to the American, slowly) American preservation of the arts...it makes me sick! American preservation of the arts...(getting very honest, even with himself, but quickly and cooly spoken) how poorly we treat the films that money sniffers can't distinguish with heads so far up their own craphole. It sickens me.
Orson Welles was treated poorly as an artist, didn't trust him. As an artist. Could if they wanted to do. But, then again. It could be wrong. (the English and the Irish are drinking) Could be thinking up some kind of pinball machine. A pinball machine that doesn't work. Of blind men- (returning to the Scottish and Irish but still talking to the American) Speaking of blind men. Jacks going to stay where he is for the time being. He wanted to be here all along. Didn't you, Jack. You have to fight your way out. I know it's crazy, but can't you see what I'm trying to tell you I love you. Groucho Marx said that. Can't you see what I'm telling you, I love you. Jack's going to stay where he is. He wanted to. Jack. You have to fight. I know, it's crazy - can't you see what I'm telling you - I love you. Marx. Do you remember? Can't you see what I'm trying to tell you, I love you. He sang. Yes he did. He sang. At least with his eye. His eye sang.
English: These bodies are not with the king that set up to tell stories. Of nothings. They riddle and ramble getting fool 'vices whilst vicing the fools. From any one who will offer them. I have seen it and will 't bare it no more. The players shall be killed. The idiots shall be killed where they stand. But enough on that. I've taken action! That's about everything.
Irish: Didn't expect so much rain.
Scottish: But enough on that. I've acted and done a bit of editing and documenting. Pinter and Shakespeare, some other William, Russian, The Iliad. That's about everything.
English: Thursday it was supposed to come.
Irish: Well, it should have then.
Scottish: Look at all that smoke. Can you see it?
Irish: Slow down. Take it in.
English: Can't take in smoke. That's hardly supposed to be what we do.
Irish: I didn't say take it. I said take it in.
English: Well I'm not deaf!
Scottish: Don't look at me.
English: Give it a rest then.
Irish: Make a job of it.
English: Health haven't you, you suffering pig.
Irish: Just enough to keep the home fires burning.
English heardsman: Oh Nooooooooooooooo.
Irish: Now what in the name of balding joseph's wrong with you?
English heardsman: I was pick up the weedsp eye yokel and trampled out to find just ending over there-
English: (approaching) Where did you find that- (as the heardsmen starts) come here! (he grabs the heardsmen's collar)
English heardsman: I half done not'n wrong!
English: Backwards heardsman!
English heardsman: (referring to his pants) I like it backwards!
Irish: Seconded you old trout! (points to his own pants, either to indicate that they too are backwards or that he wishes they were)
English heardsman: I neuur done anuthing to hurt no-one. Een't a fellah got rightin' tarun out a society?
Irish: Gotta pint!
English heardsman: As though it came from somewhere in my blood I had the appropriation to leave and just before I did just before I did. This gentleman assaulted me. I'll have none of it.
English: I'll give ya one.
(English brandishes his broadsword in a yell, kicks him to the floor, and cuts the man's head off. But as this happens, the curtain is drawn on the course of time for these men. They freeze. All except for Scottish who applauds and hurls great Scottish laughter, glaring at the American in the cage. The American, transfixed to the beheading, aches for a better look at the sword, craning his neck for a peek at the slaughter, only in a slight freeze, it is a freeze and stare, accompanied perhaps by deep breathing. Hold for Scottish laughter.)
by Thomas Anawalt
An English Play
In thickly representative accents, the actors take their stage. A gathering of kings, if you will. They have with them an American in a cage.
Scottish: (Speaking to the American, slowly) American preservation of the arts...it makes me sick! American preservation of the arts...(getting very honest, even with himself, but quickly and cooly spoken) how poorly we treat the films that money sniffers can't distinguish with heads so far up their own craphole. It sickens me.
Orson Welles was treated poorly as an artist, didn't trust him. As an artist. Could if they wanted to do. But, then again. It could be wrong. (the English and the Irish are drinking) Could be thinking up some kind of pinball machine. A pinball machine that doesn't work. Of blind men- (returning to the Scottish and Irish but still talking to the American) Speaking of blind men. Jacks going to stay where he is for the time being. He wanted to be here all along. Didn't you, Jack. You have to fight your way out. I know it's crazy, but can't you see what I'm trying to tell you I love you. Groucho Marx said that. Can't you see what I'm telling you, I love you. Jack's going to stay where he is. He wanted to. Jack. You have to fight. I know, it's crazy - can't you see what I'm telling you - I love you. Marx. Do you remember? Can't you see what I'm trying to tell you, I love you. He sang. Yes he did. He sang. At least with his eye. His eye sang.
English: These bodies are not with the king that set up to tell stories. Of nothings. They riddle and ramble getting fool 'vices whilst vicing the fools. From any one who will offer them. I have seen it and will 't bare it no more. The players shall be killed. The idiots shall be killed where they stand. But enough on that. I've taken action! That's about everything.
Irish: Didn't expect so much rain.
Scottish: But enough on that. I've acted and done a bit of editing and documenting. Pinter and Shakespeare, some other William, Russian, The Iliad. That's about everything.
English: Thursday it was supposed to come.
Irish: Well, it should have then.
Scottish: Look at all that smoke. Can you see it?
Irish: Slow down. Take it in.
English: Can't take in smoke. That's hardly supposed to be what we do.
Irish: I didn't say take it. I said take it in.
English: Well I'm not deaf!
Scottish: Don't look at me.
English: Give it a rest then.
Irish: Make a job of it.
English: Health haven't you, you suffering pig.
Irish: Just enough to keep the home fires burning.
English heardsman: Oh Nooooooooooooooo.
Irish: Now what in the name of balding joseph's wrong with you?
English heardsman: I was pick up the weedsp eye yokel and trampled out to find just ending over there-
English: (approaching) Where did you find that- (as the heardsmen starts) come here! (he grabs the heardsmen's collar)
English heardsman: I half done not'n wrong!
English: Backwards heardsman!
English heardsman: (referring to his pants) I like it backwards!
Irish: Seconded you old trout! (points to his own pants, either to indicate that they too are backwards or that he wishes they were)
English heardsman: I neuur done anuthing to hurt no-one. Een't a fellah got rightin' tarun out a society?
Irish: Gotta pint!
English heardsman: As though it came from somewhere in my blood I had the appropriation to leave and just before I did just before I did. This gentleman assaulted me. I'll have none of it.
English: I'll give ya one.
(English brandishes his broadsword in a yell, kicks him to the floor, and cuts the man's head off. But as this happens, the curtain is drawn on the course of time for these men. They freeze. All except for Scottish who applauds and hurls great Scottish laughter, glaring at the American in the cage. The American, transfixed to the beheading, aches for a better look at the sword, craning his neck for a peek at the slaughter, only in a slight freeze, it is a freeze and stare, accompanied perhaps by deep breathing. Hold for Scottish laughter.)
5.13.2008
Sugar in the Raw
The young Jimi funks out to Day Tripper
Yes
Yes
Yes thrice and again
Twice then two
Pamela fuel in the vestibule
Making something you never have done
O
Gross explication
Fight fuck down
Luminous biological fixings
Who are you, sun shining, without me to receive your rays
Yes
Yes
Yes thrice and again
Twice then two
Pamela fuel in the vestibule
Making something you never have done
O
Gross explication
Fight fuck down
Luminous biological fixings
Who are you, sun shining, without me to receive your rays
Dream
i am legend
i am bored
i can ma...
i can has...
i carly
i carly.com
i google
i can has...
why has
only ma
yet has
puzzling
i love im
i love a ...
i am bored
i can ma...
i can has...
i carly
i carly.com
i google
i can has...
why has
only ma
yet has
puzzling
i love im
i love a ...
Judaism and Christianity and greater Islam, Practiced in Iraq
Here you can say what you damn well please!
And what is important is freedom of Practice,
Freedom being something which takes accountability
For any action of violent intent
With his own life
(upon his own everlasting soul)
That is the doom of politicians
And those who feed on the innocent
I think that a strange brew and good for you
We piddle and raincheck and gamble green
jk
Doesn't it rain then and check do we not
For our own sake and something forgot
Or not ever to be spoken of perhaps at all
Or pushed aside and broken and looked at and
Not a sigh or grin but something killed and something dead
And I am frightened of the people
Please God save me from people who kill without knowing if I am their enemy
The idea of an enemy revealing himself to be an enemy is a code of fighting
I am not your enemy
I am not your everything
I am not your obvious
I am not your liquid
I am not your balls
I am not your scratches
I am not revealed
As long as I stand on American ground let my president preserve me
And let me gaze shore upon shore.
And grant a mountain or two and cliffsides which I
Respect and fear
And sue to conquer
And eagles
Do not let the eagle become something other than an eagle, for the American way has strayed to forget the eagle itself. Not for its predatory nature, but for the fact that it flies and survives alongside. We're cancerous and wasteful.
Most of all we have forgotten ourselves
I am pleased to meet you
Great
Please check out some of the features of land, which God has made perhaps by erosion, and has not meant to be forsaken for its natural beauty. That means what you find with your eye is not yours to penetrate. There's more to such things than sight, and yet your eyes may play a-part. This land is your land this land is our land from California to the New York island, from the redwood forest to the gulf stream waters. This land was made for you and me. Some read that "We can therefore shape it as much as such suits me." My mountains, my valleys, my plains aren't anyone's suit except to see
It wears you
If you only knew
How to wear it properly
And what is important is freedom of Practice,
Freedom being something which takes accountability
For any action of violent intent
With his own life
(upon his own everlasting soul)
That is the doom of politicians
And those who feed on the innocent
I think that a strange brew and good for you
We piddle and raincheck and gamble green
jk
Doesn't it rain then and check do we not
For our own sake and something forgot
Or not ever to be spoken of perhaps at all
Or pushed aside and broken and looked at and
Not a sigh or grin but something killed and something dead
And I am frightened of the people
Please God save me from people who kill without knowing if I am their enemy
The idea of an enemy revealing himself to be an enemy is a code of fighting
I am not your enemy
I am not your everything
I am not your obvious
I am not your liquid
I am not your balls
I am not your scratches
I am not revealed
As long as I stand on American ground let my president preserve me
And let me gaze shore upon shore.
And grant a mountain or two and cliffsides which I
Respect and fear
And sue to conquer
And eagles
Do not let the eagle become something other than an eagle, for the American way has strayed to forget the eagle itself. Not for its predatory nature, but for the fact that it flies and survives alongside. We're cancerous and wasteful.
Most of all we have forgotten ourselves
I am pleased to meet you
Great
Please check out some of the features of land, which God has made perhaps by erosion, and has not meant to be forsaken for its natural beauty. That means what you find with your eye is not yours to penetrate. There's more to such things than sight, and yet your eyes may play a-part. This land is your land this land is our land from California to the New York island, from the redwood forest to the gulf stream waters. This land was made for you and me. Some read that "We can therefore shape it as much as such suits me." My mountains, my valleys, my plains aren't anyone's suit except to see
It wears you
If you only knew
How to wear it properly
5.06.2008
Breaking News!
Stephen Colbert during last night's broadcast, made a little slip. It seems that when telling himself to stay angry at arch nemesis Korean pop star, Rain, Colbert referred to himself using a pronunciation hitherto unheard of. Most know the silent t of his name and the pronunciation "Coal-Bear," but last night the bronze medalist of influence was distinctly heard saying "Fight it, Coal-Burt, stay angry." Which is it, Mr. America man? Which is it?? Has your enemy caused you to faltaire? ...falter.
5.04.2008
Progress
He's afraid of Black people
But now he laughs about it with a brother
And they stare at one another kissing
But now he laughs about it with a brother
And they stare at one another kissing
5.01.2008
Squash Banking Conservation of Wealth
God told GW that he could hide in the Republican party
I don't need to listen to his whole speech to know that he's not going to tell me anything that they don't want to hear
I mean like any panderer
But that's where the Geebs is cleverer than some
Budweiser-drinkin' style, without the ummm...
I don't need to listen to his whole speech to know that he's not going to tell me anything that they don't want to hear
I mean like any panderer
But that's where the Geebs is cleverer than some
Budweiser-drinkin' style, without the ummm...
Daily Doodle
I want to become a Republican
To eat their fucking heart
And once inside my belly
Maybe the fucking will be okay with itself
Funny how they do not bleed
To eat their fucking heart
And once inside my belly
Maybe the fucking will be okay with itself
Funny how they do not bleed
An Open Letter to Jon Stewart
Dear Jon Stewart,
I have watched the Best, no, Not Just the Best of Larry Sanders. Have you seen it lately, because given where you are now its fun to see how you've always been cool. I am currently watching your April 29th broadcast. Booyah to the side-kick awesomeness. Nobody but you can make that shit work. I miss Ed Helms. I miss Vance DeGeneres. But what of that? Now The Daily Show with Jon Stewart has bigger fish to... Hey. Unclean.
And here comes Newt. Fuck him. Seriously. Bill Forstein wrote the whole thing most likely. That's the kind of phony he is. Studying McCain. Idealism v. Cynicism in your work, are you kidding me? That any Republican would feel good about ... ? Woman versus Black, the Republicans scoff. If any Republican listened to Senator Obama's speech and didn't cry, it's no wonder he would now accuse you of cynicism... Being hateful?!?!?! Is that what Wright is??? Puh-fucking leeeeez. This is a guy who is responding to a presidential candidate who essentially and very factually has retorted that black people are not angry, but are more complex and, yes, are not all about the intensity of rhetoric with which Wright chose to show his faithful condemnation of a corrupt body of politicians which has always been present in this country. Obama is trying to speak for more than just those who understand what Wright feels or had to express. Newt talks of Wright getting even. It's more about Wright reminding people that he is more than only what he has been blown up and decontextualized to be, but still has stuck true to his perhaps limited perception of the world. I still think Hillary should drop out.
Well at least Newt's for promoting books.
Thank you for making the airwaves a little saner.
-Thomas Anawalt, Columbia University '09
I have watched the Best, no, Not Just the Best of Larry Sanders. Have you seen it lately, because given where you are now its fun to see how you've always been cool. I am currently watching your April 29th broadcast. Booyah to the side-kick awesomeness. Nobody but you can make that shit work. I miss Ed Helms. I miss Vance DeGeneres. But what of that? Now The Daily Show with Jon Stewart has bigger fish to... Hey. Unclean.
And here comes Newt. Fuck him. Seriously. Bill Forstein wrote the whole thing most likely. That's the kind of phony he is. Studying McCain. Idealism v. Cynicism in your work, are you kidding me? That any Republican would feel good about ... ? Woman versus Black, the Republicans scoff. If any Republican listened to Senator Obama's speech and didn't cry, it's no wonder he would now accuse you of cynicism... Being hateful?!?!?! Is that what Wright is??? Puh-fucking leeeeez. This is a guy who is responding to a presidential candidate who essentially and very factually has retorted that black people are not angry, but are more complex and, yes, are not all about the intensity of rhetoric with which Wright chose to show his faithful condemnation of a corrupt body of politicians which has always been present in this country. Obama is trying to speak for more than just those who understand what Wright feels or had to express. Newt talks of Wright getting even. It's more about Wright reminding people that he is more than only what he has been blown up and decontextualized to be, but still has stuck true to his perhaps limited perception of the world. I still think Hillary should drop out.
Well at least Newt's for promoting books.
Thank you for making the airwaves a little saner.
-Thomas Anawalt, Columbia University '09
4.27.2008
Just Out of Ice
Smoking pot on a cot with a lot of hot spotted lillypad babies
Pass pass puff
Methods and subjects go hand in hand do they not
What some might call
Too soon
For me to catch the patch
I need to walk a hundred miles
And shoot myself in the head
Then I'll get up and find the woman
I'm legally obligated to tell you that I
Have no intention of carrying out anything
That I tell you
In other words, fly with me.
Pass pass puff
Methods and subjects go hand in hand do they not
What some might call
Too soon
For me to catch the patch
I need to walk a hundred miles
And shoot myself in the head
Then I'll get up and find the woman
I'm legally obligated to tell you that I
Have no intention of carrying out anything
That I tell you
In other words, fly with me.
4.20.2008
4.17.2008
Barbarians
I think the hurly-burly's done
The homo sapien's lost his fun
The spirit father's son of man
Can walk above, maintain his tan
There is no greater fish to fry
The fish beneath our feet do fly
But this man walks where we cannot
We must assure that he will rot
His magic does not understand
The limitations of a man
Look at him bleed
Look at him bleed
No other corpse is cause to feed
The homo sapien's lost his fun
The spirit father's son of man
Can walk above, maintain his tan
There is no greater fish to fry
The fish beneath our feet do fly
But this man walks where we cannot
We must assure that he will rot
His magic does not understand
The limitations of a man
Look at him bleed
Look at him bleed
No other corpse is cause to feed
Song for the Girl
One look
One time
One form
Two blinks
Get thee to a nunnery
I'll meet you there
Underneath the barriers and headaches
Down in the pew
And your vagina light
Will sing, 'matter of fact
I think she's on fire
One time
One form
Two blinks
Get thee to a nunnery
I'll meet you there
Underneath the barriers and headaches
Down in the pew
And your vagina light
Will sing, 'matter of fact
I think she's on fire
4.16.2008
Slammed Flat
Slowly you told me, I was beautiful and not you
I wanted to punch you in the face
Instead I jumped straight into your lap
Like some pussy. Never mind
One day music can rock this sad shit
Into a white sock. Hurl it at neighbors
Knowing in the hovering raisins
Of flying musical turds every which way
I will stick my nose in majestic and arrogant
I wanted to punch you in the face
Instead I jumped straight into your lap
Like some pussy. Never mind
One day music can rock this sad shit
Into a white sock. Hurl it at neighbors
Knowing in the hovering raisins
Of flying musical turds every which way
I will stick my nose in majestic and arrogant
4.10.2008
I'm Sick of the Kill
It's Cold These Days
And Nothing Pays
So Sit and Wait
For Purple Haze
Fool Me Once
Fool Me Again
Fool Me Again
Fool Me Again
fool me again
and again
and again
Something has been lost, a poem.
And Nothing Pays
So Sit and Wait
For Purple Haze
Fool Me Once
Fool Me Again
Fool Me Again
Fool Me Again
fool me again
and again
and again
Something has been lost, a poem.
4.08.2008
Knowing Knotseams
You're the Shakespeare
You have to say what you mean
I meant you mean what you say
You have to mean what you say
I meant I have to
Mean
What you say
But I would have been saying
Not all snippets have a whole
Not all bliss will open doors
Not all burgers have a bun
Not all planets have a sun
Not all readers can digest
Not all ladies can protest
Not all sausages are mean
Not all meal is cooked so clean
Not all dancer's Balanchine
Or comparable to Ben Vereen
Not all thought can be controlled and
Every mountain is a mole
Until its got into his head
When asked to be or not to be
He boasts the pleasant answer, "Read."
You have to say what you mean
I meant you mean what you say
You have to mean what you say
I meant I have to
Mean
What you say
But I would have been saying
Not all snippets have a whole
Not all bliss will open doors
Not all burgers have a bun
Not all planets have a sun
Not all readers can digest
Not all ladies can protest
Not all sausages are mean
Not all meal is cooked so clean
Not all dancer's Balanchine
Or comparable to Ben Vereen
Not all thought can be controlled and
Every mountain is a mole
Until its got into his head
When asked to be or not to be
He boasts the pleasant answer, "Read."
4.04.2008
The Coffee One
The cup of coffee we share
Is two
One in my hand, one in yours
Sip, until the probable gulp
I never watch you take
Bars us from talk of elections
Our mouths turn and twist
From eyes to chairs and television
Clapping and aging alone
Acorns raining from the sky
Tormenting our dreams
Thinking twice
Is two
One in my hand, one in yours
Sip, until the probable gulp
I never watch you take
Bars us from talk of elections
Our mouths turn and twist
From eyes to chairs and television
Clapping and aging alone
Acorns raining from the sky
Tormenting our dreams
Thinking twice
Casual Friday, Naked Tuesday
Wind instruments from the curb
Paint the picture that I see
Of the church and how
They gather people to praise
And to compel, the worse of them.
There shall be no compulsion.
When all is said and done
Who shall and shall not place
A hand upon your shoulder
Makes life worth living
And fuck is a breakfast pastry
Paint the picture that I see
Of the church and how
They gather people to praise
And to compel, the worse of them.
There shall be no compulsion.
When all is said and done
Who shall and shall not place
A hand upon your shoulder
Makes life worth living
And fuck is a breakfast pastry
3.24.2008
Egg and Peacock Revision and Preface
Before you read what is probably close to what I would have liked to print on www.Bwog.net if the privilege were mine to have limitless time in editing, I must apologize to Jonah Block-Johnson. Your play wasn't sexual. I've mended my review to more closely represent my thoughts on the word-play and its context. Also I fail to mention in all my review the wonderful band that introduced each play. They bellowed out a balls-out rendition of Strauss' Also Spracht Zarathustra and brought down the house. Jonah was the conductor of the band. They stole the show in between every play, though they of course peaked early with the Strauss.
-Thomas Anawalt
------------------
A night of student plays by any other name might not smell as sweet. Shall I compare thee to a Latenite anthology? Thou art more zany and more whimsical. A tad longer, too. The playwrights of KCST’s Egg and Peacock Festival were given starting lines for their works, and had to hand off a line for the next writer to take it and run with it. The imposition of the start/end lines offered playwrights the opportunity to dictate the silliness of what followed.
The night opened with "Demographics," (written by Chas Carey, directed by Will Scheussler) a more or less uninteresting power play between women. Enter highlight number one, Gabe Miner in frump-drag. "The Rise and Fall of Big Bank Films" (written by Andrew Martin, directed by Kate Stahl) came next and a funny little play it was. It involved prophesies of the upcoming election and drinking and clever dialogue. And I can't say for the life of me who or what the play was about. The third play, "The Abolition of Compassion" (written by Matt Herzfield, directed by Ameneh Bordi) contained the funniest scenario of the evening. An Islamic terrorist, played by David Iscoe, waltzes into a ladies room with thundering heavy metal, ready to kill, but refuses to gaze upon a breast. The fourth play, "Happiness in General," (written by Gabe Miner, directed by David Gerson) proved that opening the door from the hallway to light the darkened stage doesn't work dramatically and that dialog should always be audible. Mike Molina's play, "The Merit Badge" ended the first act. The direction by Dan Blank came together very well with the actors like a nightmare sitcom. Lakshmi Sundaram and Catherine Atwill played convincing boyscouts in the unlikely situation of cutting off murderers' dicks and deciding to ingest the evidence. With and without words, the two boyscouts received the biggest laughs of the 2 and a half hour marathon.
The second act was not for quitters. "Two Sausages" (written by Jonah Block-Johnson, directed by Mark Holden) was a mystery about sausages, dictated from the line at the end of Molina’s play, “Last time you said that, I was holding two sausages!” A change of subject at the start of Act II, while arguably impossible, could have been refreshing. "Old Lady Gets the Sack" (written by Josh Syzmanowski, directed by Beck Pryor) tickled me, I will admit. Sadly this was at the portion of the performance where the length of the individual plays started to become apparent. Jeff Julian wrote a play in which he played a writer who wrote poeticism into porn-scripts to the effect that nobody ever screws. This piece, "Esmerelda Does Edinburgh," (directed by Morgan Hardy) had its moments and was fairly convincing as a low-budget porn shoot set. Trying to find a tasteful way of calling it a period piece is not possible. The elaborate if not rather linear "Ruses are Red" (written by Abby Rosebrock, directed by Jake Green) contained several sex twists that repeated and repeated. Last but not least is "President Ricky Writes a Story" (written by Tyson Brody, directed by Jesse Horowitz). The play imagined a book series dedicated to a first Gay President, President Ricky. The series of novels was wrapped in a play about the peculiarities of artistic freedom, its imposed and natural boundaries as concerns profitability.
Fresh out of the 24 hour writing process, I can't badmouth one play for slapping the art of theater in the face. If anything they all slapped the face collectively together, and made merriment of it. Even the worst of the plays had its merit. If it wasn't the acting making up for the lack of apparent story (or vice versa), count on the sometimes beautiful and shocking moments that happen after a time-warped creative process like Egg and Peacock (one of the plays projected Obama as the Dem Nom and future prez). Though it looked like the writers had a good time, the rules seemed to limit rather than inspire dialog. A lot of the plays could have been sliced in half or maybe knocked off a third and still gotten the point across, if the play happened to have a point.
-Thomas Anawalt
------------------
A night of student plays by any other name might not smell as sweet. Shall I compare thee to a Latenite anthology? Thou art more zany and more whimsical. A tad longer, too. The playwrights of KCST’s Egg and Peacock Festival were given starting lines for their works, and had to hand off a line for the next writer to take it and run with it. The imposition of the start/end lines offered playwrights the opportunity to dictate the silliness of what followed.
The night opened with "Demographics," (written by Chas Carey, directed by Will Scheussler) a more or less uninteresting power play between women. Enter highlight number one, Gabe Miner in frump-drag. "The Rise and Fall of Big Bank Films" (written by Andrew Martin, directed by Kate Stahl) came next and a funny little play it was. It involved prophesies of the upcoming election and drinking and clever dialogue. And I can't say for the life of me who or what the play was about. The third play, "The Abolition of Compassion" (written by Matt Herzfield, directed by Ameneh Bordi) contained the funniest scenario of the evening. An Islamic terrorist, played by David Iscoe, waltzes into a ladies room with thundering heavy metal, ready to kill, but refuses to gaze upon a breast. The fourth play, "Happiness in General," (written by Gabe Miner, directed by David Gerson) proved that opening the door from the hallway to light the darkened stage doesn't work dramatically and that dialog should always be audible. Mike Molina's play, "The Merit Badge" ended the first act. The direction by Dan Blank came together very well with the actors like a nightmare sitcom. Lakshmi Sundaram and Catherine Atwill played convincing boyscouts in the unlikely situation of cutting off murderers' dicks and deciding to ingest the evidence. With and without words, the two boyscouts received the biggest laughs of the 2 and a half hour marathon.
The second act was not for quitters. "Two Sausages" (written by Jonah Block-Johnson, directed by Mark Holden) was a mystery about sausages, dictated from the line at the end of Molina’s play, “Last time you said that, I was holding two sausages!” A change of subject at the start of Act II, while arguably impossible, could have been refreshing. "Old Lady Gets the Sack" (written by Josh Syzmanowski, directed by Beck Pryor) tickled me, I will admit. Sadly this was at the portion of the performance where the length of the individual plays started to become apparent. Jeff Julian wrote a play in which he played a writer who wrote poeticism into porn-scripts to the effect that nobody ever screws. This piece, "Esmerelda Does Edinburgh," (directed by Morgan Hardy) had its moments and was fairly convincing as a low-budget porn shoot set. Trying to find a tasteful way of calling it a period piece is not possible. The elaborate if not rather linear "Ruses are Red" (written by Abby Rosebrock, directed by Jake Green) contained several sex twists that repeated and repeated. Last but not least is "President Ricky Writes a Story" (written by Tyson Brody, directed by Jesse Horowitz). The play imagined a book series dedicated to a first Gay President, President Ricky. The series of novels was wrapped in a play about the peculiarities of artistic freedom, its imposed and natural boundaries as concerns profitability.
Fresh out of the 24 hour writing process, I can't badmouth one play for slapping the art of theater in the face. If anything they all slapped the face collectively together, and made merriment of it. Even the worst of the plays had its merit. If it wasn't the acting making up for the lack of apparent story (or vice versa), count on the sometimes beautiful and shocking moments that happen after a time-warped creative process like Egg and Peacock (one of the plays projected Obama as the Dem Nom and future prez). Though it looked like the writers had a good time, the rules seemed to limit rather than inspire dialog. A lot of the plays could have been sliced in half or maybe knocked off a third and still gotten the point across, if the play happened to have a point.
3.19.2008
Scandinavian Filmcourse 4
The line drawn between Alexander and Hamlet could be easily dismissed were Igmar Bergman's genius not comparable to that of William Shakespeare. Alexander, the young boy in Bergman's somewhat autobiographical film, "Fanny och Alexander," is haunted by the ghost of his father, a man of the theater who valued the little world inside of the theater's four walls. The value of the theatrical realm comes across from his father almost as an attack on the outside world. The film, from that moment forth, is an attempt by Bergman and by Alexander to ameliorate the father's grievances about the world outside the walls of the theater. In real life, Bergman's father was a clergyman, not an actor or director, but Bergman sees fit to haunt his cinematic alter-ego with the paternal ghost of the theater, as Hamlet's father famously haunts Shakespeare's Danish Prince.
If the Ghost in Shakepeare's "Hamlet" saught bloody vengeance and restoration of the crown, the vengeance which young Alexander takes up has a more subtly contrived artistic bent than an overt political one. Bergman always confronts the question of religion and punishment, but in "Fanny och Alexander" he breaks from the methods of his father and takes up a punishing force all his own. The step-father in the film enacts a ritual lifted from a practice of Bergman's real father, a clergyman. In his autobiography, "The Magic Lantern," Igmar Bergman describes the beating he'd receive from his father as well as his delight at his older brother receiving the brunt of the punishment. He continues, "After the strokes had been administered, you had to kiss Father's hand, at which forgiveness was declared and the burden of sin fell away, deliverance and grace ensued." Without any supper and without a bedtime story he would be sent to bed, relieved that the punishment had done its job. Pain was not the difficulty for Bergman so much as the humiliation. No doubt, he grew to resent his father's administration of this punishment, evidenced by the replacement of his biological father with the man of the theater in "Fanny och Alexander."
Whatever his artistic drives and wherever they were born, in no way could their origin be said to derive from any kind of certainty. Haunted by the ghost, like Hamlet, Alexander does not share with the Dane the clarity of a task. He can only look upon the ghost and remind himself, no, I am not Hamlet. As he is not the heir to a throne, let alone someone with a clear incentive to achieve that throne, Alexander's purpose becomes lost in mystery. Bergman enacts the mystery through Alexander's participation in witchcraft, the ultimate subversion of the Protestant church.
Bergman shares with Carl Theodor Dreyer a sympathy for the categorical sinner and persecuted enemy of popular religion. Where Dreyer seems to embrace witchcraft along with any of the evil power associated with it, Bergman can't help but explore the problems therein. No clear answer exists against the church, for even the union between Alexander and dark forces are born out of an emotional rebellion rather than ideological alignment against the tenets of faith. The sorcery which results in the fiery death of Alexander's gluttonous bed-ridden aunt is an expression of the boy's power over those who look down upon him, but it cannot be appreciated unless the artistic voice has expression here as well. Just as Bergman is able to usurp the his biological father with a ghost of the theater, he set fire to a figure of pomp, laziness, and superiority. He can use Charles Dickens, as well as witchcraft, to envelope the oppression and hypocrisy of his childhood in a conflagration. The importance of the action is artistic.
The massive aunt never deals directly with Alexander and as such the fire which consumes her must be symbolic. She is the representative of inertia and indifference facing the treatment of children within Sweden's religious household. Worse than the Step-father, this woman (played by a man) has no feelings of a higher calling to justify her slothful acceptance of the world around her, but has to be cared for as a sinless, joyless, inhuman blob. Witchcraft provides a haven for Alexander to destroy the aunt without being judged. Essentially it doesn't matter where his feelings can find expression so long as they can be expressed without the necessary retaliation of corporal punishment. He turns to another world, a system without a pretense of righteousness.
At the conclusion, Bergman does not retreat into the beautiful little world of the theater revered by Alexander's father, though one could certainly argue for the inclusion of the theatrical world at the film's conclusion based simply upon the nature of film. This story of Alexander's escape from the old religious household exists as a part of a fictional cinematic world. As Alexander is able to do once his rebellion finds expression, the darkness associated with the witchcraft elements has to be set aside as a means to artistic expression for Bergman and an emotional expression for Alexander. What occurs at the end of the film is a retreat into a newly conceived household, and a repetition of the ghost-father's reverence for the little world of the theater. The new world is that of the family, in which a man's sins are not the burden of the world so much as they are the burden of his wife, who will bear them, if she is wise, with a certain amount of forgiveness. It is by such forgiveness that Bergman imagines a happy household, regardless of moral imperfections.
If the Ghost in Shakepeare's "Hamlet" saught bloody vengeance and restoration of the crown, the vengeance which young Alexander takes up has a more subtly contrived artistic bent than an overt political one. Bergman always confronts the question of religion and punishment, but in "Fanny och Alexander" he breaks from the methods of his father and takes up a punishing force all his own. The step-father in the film enacts a ritual lifted from a practice of Bergman's real father, a clergyman. In his autobiography, "The Magic Lantern," Igmar Bergman describes the beating he'd receive from his father as well as his delight at his older brother receiving the brunt of the punishment. He continues, "After the strokes had been administered, you had to kiss Father's hand, at which forgiveness was declared and the burden of sin fell away, deliverance and grace ensued." Without any supper and without a bedtime story he would be sent to bed, relieved that the punishment had done its job. Pain was not the difficulty for Bergman so much as the humiliation. No doubt, he grew to resent his father's administration of this punishment, evidenced by the replacement of his biological father with the man of the theater in "Fanny och Alexander."
Whatever his artistic drives and wherever they were born, in no way could their origin be said to derive from any kind of certainty. Haunted by the ghost, like Hamlet, Alexander does not share with the Dane the clarity of a task. He can only look upon the ghost and remind himself, no, I am not Hamlet. As he is not the heir to a throne, let alone someone with a clear incentive to achieve that throne, Alexander's purpose becomes lost in mystery. Bergman enacts the mystery through Alexander's participation in witchcraft, the ultimate subversion of the Protestant church.
Bergman shares with Carl Theodor Dreyer a sympathy for the categorical sinner and persecuted enemy of popular religion. Where Dreyer seems to embrace witchcraft along with any of the evil power associated with it, Bergman can't help but explore the problems therein. No clear answer exists against the church, for even the union between Alexander and dark forces are born out of an emotional rebellion rather than ideological alignment against the tenets of faith. The sorcery which results in the fiery death of Alexander's gluttonous bed-ridden aunt is an expression of the boy's power over those who look down upon him, but it cannot be appreciated unless the artistic voice has expression here as well. Just as Bergman is able to usurp the his biological father with a ghost of the theater, he set fire to a figure of pomp, laziness, and superiority. He can use Charles Dickens, as well as witchcraft, to envelope the oppression and hypocrisy of his childhood in a conflagration. The importance of the action is artistic.
The massive aunt never deals directly with Alexander and as such the fire which consumes her must be symbolic. She is the representative of inertia and indifference facing the treatment of children within Sweden's religious household. Worse than the Step-father, this woman (played by a man) has no feelings of a higher calling to justify her slothful acceptance of the world around her, but has to be cared for as a sinless, joyless, inhuman blob. Witchcraft provides a haven for Alexander to destroy the aunt without being judged. Essentially it doesn't matter where his feelings can find expression so long as they can be expressed without the necessary retaliation of corporal punishment. He turns to another world, a system without a pretense of righteousness.
At the conclusion, Bergman does not retreat into the beautiful little world of the theater revered by Alexander's father, though one could certainly argue for the inclusion of the theatrical world at the film's conclusion based simply upon the nature of film. This story of Alexander's escape from the old religious household exists as a part of a fictional cinematic world. As Alexander is able to do once his rebellion finds expression, the darkness associated with the witchcraft elements has to be set aside as a means to artistic expression for Bergman and an emotional expression for Alexander. What occurs at the end of the film is a retreat into a newly conceived household, and a repetition of the ghost-father's reverence for the little world of the theater. The new world is that of the family, in which a man's sins are not the burden of the world so much as they are the burden of his wife, who will bear them, if she is wise, with a certain amount of forgiveness. It is by such forgiveness that Bergman imagines a happy household, regardless of moral imperfections.
3.04.2008
Sweltering Freeze
Hear, my nothing
The laughing ghost
As cries for blood
Spilled like more rain
On a warm winter's day
The laughing ghost
As cries for blood
Spilled like more rain
On a warm winter's day
3.02.2008
Suspected of Suspense
Were you Alfred Hitchcock raised from the dead
Were you. Drizzling will... won't shut up and leave me.
It will only cramp my style. How depressing.
Quit telling me that less is more because I am
Smart enough to know; less is less and
More is to be gotten from "less" than from something
Which is "more," - too much or too little -
Never and anywhere
Between the middle
Were you. Drizzling will... won't shut up and leave me.
It will only cramp my style. How depressing.
Quit telling me that less is more because I am
Smart enough to know; less is less and
More is to be gotten from "less" than from something
Which is "more," - too much or too little -
Never and anywhere
Between the middle
Jingle of Gingle
Can the Heavens never cease
To admit a something
In making themselves
Somewhat better than Earth
And yet can the Earth
In its infinite worth
Make some claims to the birth
Of the concept of heaven
To admit a something
In making themselves
Somewhat better than Earth
And yet can the Earth
In its infinite worth
Make some claims to the birth
Of the concept of heaven
1020
Corpunctual longing and hard woven tweed
Thirsty small girls knowing and not how to get a drink
Fifty-four pieces of silt and filth
Gums of madmen and current Presidents
Jasper and Halloway joking around
The 27th time
Jew ducks from El Nazarino
Jolted jingles and 1 jester
In jacketless humiliation
Dancing a waltz by himself
And cope is a word you just learned
Thirsty small girls knowing and not how to get a drink
Fifty-four pieces of silt and filth
Gums of madmen and current Presidents
Jasper and Halloway joking around
The 27th time
Jew ducks from El Nazarino
Jolted jingles and 1 jester
In jacketless humiliation
Dancing a waltz by himself
And cope is a word you just learned
3.01.2008
The Gutter Body
You can think there's a girl
Just over the highway you cross
Before the fields of wild berries
Underneath the orange peel
Found caught between
The smallest of the middle toes
Hey. That's where she is.
Just over the highway you cross
Before the fields of wild berries
Underneath the orange peel
Found caught between
The smallest of the middle toes
Hey. That's where she is.
Us, fools
Did it or didn't it find some way of realizing what it was? The simple question that you can't answer. Forget about that anyway. You want to know what brought me here. Sorry. You want to know why I brought you here. I brought you here because of Love and Theft. That's right, the whole fucking album. Because it cuts. It has many songs, separated and riddled with cuts. Spaces made. Spaces that already exist are half the site of a cut. Who did the cutting at the Grand Canyon but the river? Certainly not mules. That's a river running long before we got there. And when I say we, I don't mean settlers. I mean the settled. The Television City Kids, numbed by the false horrors that they enjoy them. The ones who thought they knew less than old warrior folks until September 11, 2001. After that point it became increasingly apparent to them that they knew more. By the time 2008 came around we had dethroned a dictator in another country. That's worked out for us in the past so we gave it another shot, but it wasn't just some shot. It was a shot of his hanging and inspection and of a war. The war we fight thrives upon our fear of the people who come in and out of our building. What have they done to us? Fools. Fools... fools... fools.
Please please America, whoa yeah, like America pleases you.
Please please America, whoa yeah, like America pleases you.
2.26.2008
SC3
Tried to watch Dreyer's early films and felt compelled to cut that journey a little short. Of what I watched, Day of Wrath and The Passion of Joan of Arc were my favorites. The treatment of witchcraft and his continual focus upon satanic elements make Dreyer somewhat unbearable. The Passion of Joan of Arc deals in questions that have a more impressive bearing upon the church than Day of Wrath. Although the question of killing witches has its place, it seems out-dated compared with Joan's dilemma of a military tribunal manipulating her comments upon faith to justify condemnation beyond a status as military enemies. The hypocritical church would overlook its role in the military dialog of punishment.
Stuckness Minus St.
Some king
Listening to Bob Dylan
Like really listening
Fourtimes
Killed fifty mean tuesday type gentlemen
Hadtogetsomewheredeciding
On the hopethat itresolves
Fascists can suck my boot
Iwould notsuffer ahomelesspersontodothat
Iwould try to treat themasthough we wereequal people
But at thecrossroadsIcould still not give up my room
How I love the spacewhere Ihangmy draws
Kill therest of those bobs in their shelterclosets
If I can only hold dearly to my head and buttocks this chair, these keys
Do not even skip along the same grass as these six walls
Shelter from the cane
Now I'm not even close
To have a roof means to have a ground
For your children
Forbidden afternoon shaves
Busted flats on the way to Disneyland
Itallputsforththejourney and says
"If I were a movie how fun it all looks
And even in the confines of the room."
Something in that camera makes it all worthwhile I suppose
Its a trick!
Listening to Bob Dylan
Like really listening
Fourtimes
Killed fifty mean tuesday type gentlemen
Hadtogetsomewheredeciding
On the hopethat itresolves
Fascists can suck my boot
Iwould notsuffer ahomelesspersontodothat
Iwould try to treat themasthough we wereequal people
But at thecrossroadsIcould still not give up my room
How I love the spacewhere Ihangmy draws
Kill therest of those bobs in their shelterclosets
If I can only hold dearly to my head and buttocks this chair, these keys
Do not even skip along the same grass as these six walls
Shelter from the cane
Now I'm not even close
To have a roof means to have a ground
For your children
Forbidden afternoon shaves
Busted flats on the way to Disneyland
Itallputsforththejourney and says
"If I were a movie how fun it all looks
And even in the confines of the room."
Something in that camera makes it all worthwhile I suppose
Its a trick!
2.22.2008
Story of his life.
This is the story. A ranger stepped onto the ground. Now this wasn't any old kind of ground like we're used to stepping on because this ground had thick, bulbous weeds growing like uprooted grass that's pulled from the ground like laid wire. But these big things pulled their own roots from the ground to churn the soil, so that their smaller roots could take further hold of the ground and move deeper to assure the home of this plant and its seed. Only nobody particularly wanted this plant around. Many of its kind choke flowers and other decoratives, who tend to have a more delicate speed of living.
The ranger had stepped on this kind of ground, in fact, for most of his life. When he was just newborn, he was only allowed to walk on sand. He was an adept baby and walked on sand quite well, even for a ranger. But to get bogged down in his history for now would only bore you, because at the very moment I speak, he steps. Once more.
And again. Stops. The ground squiggles under his feet. It tries to grow on him. No such luck. Something in the ranger thought of processed meat. The strange foot had calloused, like any good ranger's foot. The foot's strange to an average person, and it's strange to the grass. Waiting, is he, the grass might have begun to think. Taking him long enough. But if the grass knew the mind of a ranger, it would not be grass. The ranger darts, ditches, dares, stares, and kills.
The ranger had stepped on this kind of ground, in fact, for most of his life. When he was just newborn, he was only allowed to walk on sand. He was an adept baby and walked on sand quite well, even for a ranger. But to get bogged down in his history for now would only bore you, because at the very moment I speak, he steps. Once more.
And again. Stops. The ground squiggles under his feet. It tries to grow on him. No such luck. Something in the ranger thought of processed meat. The strange foot had calloused, like any good ranger's foot. The foot's strange to an average person, and it's strange to the grass. Waiting, is he, the grass might have begun to think. Taking him long enough. But if the grass knew the mind of a ranger, it would not be grass. The ranger darts, ditches, dares, stares, and kills.
2.11.2008
Serious to do list:
1. Learn to play/improvise guitar
2. Cut a dollar in half, tape it to another dollar I've cut in half
3. Read Moby Dick
4. Read the gospels
5. Read The Decameron
6. Read The Iliad
7. Converse with dream woman and others without self-conscience
8. Make a top 100 films list
9. Read Dante's Comedy
10. Play Hamlet and Laertes
2. Cut a dollar in half, tape it to another dollar I've cut in half
3. Read Moby Dick
4. Read the gospels
5. Read The Decameron
6. Read The Iliad
7. Converse with dream woman and others without self-conscience
8. Make a top 100 films list
9. Read Dante's Comedy
10. Play Hamlet and Laertes
2.10.2008
Between Them and the Films
Who am I listening to that makes me have to choose a "winner" between No Country for Old Men and There Will be Blood? I can love them in their own right. Love is a word for so many things and love for a film, Derrida would say, is a different kind of love from love of a person. It is in fact the only way he could say it (love for things/love for beings). So forget about the Coen Brothers or P.T. Anderson when looking at those movies. Because the fight already has forgotten, between them and the films.
2.09.2008
IM not Bitter
And adults sulk and sit alone
To pick at ever-thinning bone
In order, please, from one to three
Of sanity and memory
I hope to nothing, them in verse
Forthwith that rock and roll will be
To crud and mud the given curse
For little husbands, thinking free
She's making me the perfect man
I come to see what she has done
The cuts and ramblings of the plan
Scrape simple things and it'll run
I heart Hearst's hearse
Or head in reverse
Our villian scheme is dead
When was it jealous
Call them all my favorites too
Kris Kringle fits religious view
But they named it my favorites first
The bowl of jelly bound to burst
And adults jog alone
And memories
To pick at
To pick at ever-thinning bone
In order, please, from one to three
Of sanity and memory
I hope to nothing, them in verse
Forthwith that rock and roll will be
To crud and mud the given curse
For little husbands, thinking free
She's making me the perfect man
I come to see what she has done
The cuts and ramblings of the plan
Scrape simple things and it'll run
I heart Hearst's hearse
Or head in reverse
Our villian scheme is dead
When was it jealous
Call them all my favorites too
Kris Kringle fits religious view
But they named it my favorites first
The bowl of jelly bound to burst
And adults jog alone
And memories
To pick at
2.07.2008
Rambo and Its Relation to Human Tragedy
I only saw it once. Once is enough. It just wasn't fun from the start so didn't get fun later on. It got redundant.
Rambo's the hero of the franchise. He knows what's going down because he's the greatest warrior of all time sort of thing. And Stallone doesn't do anything for the first 45 minutes but direct Asian men to torture Asian men and women by setting them through land-mine traps. The subjects of the violence and the graphic nature with which Stallone films it, and films himself, is too tended to observing (to the point of applauding) the violence for the entirety of its realistically oriented duration. The details of gore, and the torturous nature of most of it, with a dialog so self-conscious and contrived, falls short of watching the evening news and is nearer to the level of the hanging of Saddam Hussein.
New kinds of movies are an inevitability, but what we have here is pure savage gore trying to top itself in the realms of exhibited violence mixed with realism! Instead of any attention paid to the action filmmaking we are being hand-fed by a sadistically constructed nationalistic figure of pseudo-redemption spectacle. A film about sadists isn't a new or impossible concept, but Hitchcock knows that the most powerful and terrifying statements on the imagination leave room for it. See I'm Not There for how much Haynes trusts his audience to fill in the blanks. Stallone has filled in every conceivable blank with the process of watching Southeast Asians splatter.
Rambo's the hero of the franchise. He knows what's going down because he's the greatest warrior of all time sort of thing. And Stallone doesn't do anything for the first 45 minutes but direct Asian men to torture Asian men and women by setting them through land-mine traps. The subjects of the violence and the graphic nature with which Stallone films it, and films himself, is too tended to observing (to the point of applauding) the violence for the entirety of its realistically oriented duration. The details of gore, and the torturous nature of most of it, with a dialog so self-conscious and contrived, falls short of watching the evening news and is nearer to the level of the hanging of Saddam Hussein.
New kinds of movies are an inevitability, but what we have here is pure savage gore trying to top itself in the realms of exhibited violence mixed with realism! Instead of any attention paid to the action filmmaking we are being hand-fed by a sadistically constructed nationalistic figure of pseudo-redemption spectacle. A film about sadists isn't a new or impossible concept, but Hitchcock knows that the most powerful and terrifying statements on the imagination leave room for it. See I'm Not There for how much Haynes trusts his audience to fill in the blanks. Stallone has filled in every conceivable blank with the process of watching Southeast Asians splatter.
1.24.2008
Newly met.
I'm hoping that most of what I've written on this blog will be taken as something half thought about. From now on I dedicate it to my criticism and sometimes perhaps to poetry. The rest is jargon and mental suicide in text format. It's just hardly an accurate representation of anything most of the time. So expect some opinions about movies. Expect for something to rhyme and other things to just annoy, if you hate when nothing rhymes. You know who you are.
Thanks for reading anything below. It's just a map to the realization that writing with words comes back to an origin without...without...without. Yea, some origin without has nothing to do with the endeavor, if I do. Maybe we're in it together. Signing off is the writer of all posts before this. Meet somebody new or get to know someone whom you have newly met.
Thanks for reading anything below. It's just a map to the realization that writing with words comes back to an origin without...without...without. Yea, some origin without has nothing to do with the endeavor, if I do. Maybe we're in it together. Signing off is the writer of all posts before this. Meet somebody new or get to know someone whom you have newly met.
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
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?
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
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
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
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.
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
"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?
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.
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.
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.
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)
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.
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.
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.
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!!!"")
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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
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
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
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