Thursday, November 22, 2001

post 10a
tongue piercing:

a great cunnilingus aid or brain infector?

you decide....

Wednesday, November 21, 2001

post9b

it seems that microsoft may take over the world after all....
post 9a

i've resurrected my connection
fingers doing their thing
letting you add the tune, sing,
to the black and white patterns in make-believe eyes
glimpsed faster than a drop of rain,
on a hood ornament
reflecting your surprise

Sunday, October 14, 2001

post 8a

this poem is relevant whereas i may not be...


insomniac's salute

to the column heater hum in pre-dawn black
to the neon clap of vcr zeros
to the secondary clunk of the plastic wall clock tick
to the whirring tock of my laptop as i type
to the click and pop of joints out of place
to the rattan chair complaints stiffened by subzero lethargy
to the wool itch stitched in scratched sympathy
to the wobble of spheres stretched by a whisper sliver of moon
to the airplane boom mumbled into distant thought
to the serum sugars mulched in the pressured march of habit
to all these things sung in the muffle of sleep,
that creep in the dark and blend in the light,
these jab the pricks of insight gone wrong
like the hand of choice withdrawn
or the misstep of a song
syncopated impossibly to the rhythm of doubt
gone out into the ignorant night.

20/6/01
post 8

the days fade in a haze of repetition
unfazed by trauma, death
this too is a reprise
like every joy every hope
stirred evenly into grey soup
slopped for consumption
regurgitation (bis)
pasted on the wall like a warning
(insert coda)
surprise is for the forgetful
15/10/01

Thursday, October 11, 2001

post 7

decision is a dull ache of consequence like a burn from a blaring sun

Wednesday, October 10, 2001

post 6 a

"There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me.
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea. "

-From "Prufrock", TS Eliot

choice:

it's what i long for.

yet - the problem with choice is the responsibility of having made it, the responsibility of the effects of the choice.

i think as an american i want choice but don't want responsibility

i'll eat my cake but i don't want all those calories

i want to break the rules and not be punished

i want to escape and be free

thus i am indecisive

but responsibility is the given - if i am not responsible then someone else will ultimately be

and then i'd live in fear of reprisal in the intangeable eye of justice -

omnipresent, patient, precise

always pleading

mercy mercy mercy

please please please

so to be different than that i have to think

i have to be willing to accept the results of choice

i have to feel pain and heal

i have to stand up

i have to open my eyes

i have to live

i suppose there isn't really a choice in this matter...
post 6

bert and bin laden are now best buddies

does this mean that bert is now evil?

maybe bert is the explanation - he's a cia plant - a psych warfare master allied with the devil that uses code in sesame street episodes to activate his sleepers.

hmmm - worth exploring?

Tuesday, October 09, 2001

post 5c

i found this from a couple of months ago - still worth a read...

freedom is a mirage
freedom is a catch phrase to enlist the impoverished
freedom incites the oppressed to rise against those currently holding power
freedom is a nice juicy carrot on a string
freedom is a whip on broken skin

america is no more free than the soviet union was
america doesn't want freedom
america wants ordered voracious consumers,
independently wealthy money-makers,
happy service industry slaves,
wide-eyed watchers of tv that believe everything.
“a well balanced breakfast is toast juice milk and cereal.”
have you ever mixed juice and milk?
can you say lobbies, kickback, and campaign contributions?

and people are upset by this thought
they act surprised and outraged as if they never thought of it before
they’ve marched for freedom
shot guns for freedom
formed hate groups for freedom
and the media watched it all and recorded every second
“god bless america,” they yelled rabidly,
“land of the free (spending)
and home of the brave (sports enthusiast).”

americans don't really want freedom
they want comfort
and there’s comfort to be had
at a price
and that price is freedom,
their freedom,
and the freedom of the rest of the world

freedom is one new empty shoe
freedom is the promise of desert rain
freedom is a willing chain of slavery for the poor
freedom is elusive, deceptive, illusionary
freedom is a scapegoat
freedom is an excuse to be miserable
freedom is a slot machine jackpot

freedom is just a lullaby
post 5b

love is some slippery animal

post 5a

cops go to doughnuts like moths to a flame...

i'm sure it will end up in the simpsons sometime soon...
post 5

have you ever walked at the edge of a cliff?
the end of everything you know
down below the new threatening
life jagged rusty jaw
waiting to scar and debilitate, eviscerate

the world outside has teeth and claws
outside the arms of god
or are his arms wider, more broad
than any fear created laws...
post 4b

i thought perhaps i should also put this here just because i can

the liberty shroud

she had eyes
but what she saw was an effigy
that burned with each touch
each painful word
whispered with enmity
to the dull shadows cast by the smoke of autumn sun

she stepped through rubble in a robe of ash
blinded by the slash of steam
the slice of steel
pealed like a thunderhead
of a thousand hoof-beats on the horizon
electric with fear
abuzz with speculation
a reticulation of rumors
consumed with dissection
and she watched the slow flow of red in strips
dripped, a memory
gripped white in the taught blue hands of throttled wind

she was a widow, a window,
a specter among the paper snow,
people saw through her until they coughed
and then like two pillars
our two fingers pointing back at god
she dissolved with a nod
into history

2 october 01
post 4a

i've decided to become celibate

yes, it's true

this way i never have to worry ever again about sex

this way i can be free to explore relationships in their fullest depth without the burden of hormonal attraction

this way i can just be me without some sexual agenda

imagine the time i'll have. i could even take up macrame

yeah... i'm going to be celibate

well, at least i'll definitely give it a good shot tomorrow after the orgy...
post 4

its funny how when time approaches midnight, the temptation to stay up till 1 rolls around - and then i have a great excuse to complain at work the next day...

what... don't you make reasons to complain? i mean, come on, what else are you going to talk about?

life is too short to fill it with useful insights or anything deep and meaningful.

better to be distracted, hopeless and self-centered and that way you'll keep america's flag flying and those consumer goods rolling out to the masses

god forbid we start to think - we might ruin everything we worked for
post 3a

vagueries...

someone used that word today and i had to wonder from whence this corporate jargon spitting suit came

it's about you it's about me it's about vagueries it's about bla bla bla

it's about myopic corporate gestalt wordiness

lets all be touchy feely in a monetary arrangement

i think it's called prostitution actually...

i need a hanky (mr panky)...

Monday, October 08, 2001

post 3

technology advances and grows and shrinks and penetrates and magnifies, but the content remains the same: us

are we so special that we deserve this much attention?

pehaps we have nothing better to focus on, nothing more interesting or noble.

we can watch tv on 100" projection screens with 300 channels with dvd commentary in dolby digital dts stereo, but in the end all we see and hear is sheer fantasy and rubbish.

garbage in garbage out - everything is a marketing excercise

even death and trauma gets packaged in sanitary bright wrapping because we have such high standards...
post 2

it's raining in the south while sex blooms in the north. i heard of an insurance company that has policies for male porn stars. it's called "erection protection". yeah right. i'm sure though someone has thought of protecting their performance in the industry that leaves little to the imagination. i wonder if the cost of the policy is calculated in inches...

yes i'm bored and yes i'm horny. and frankly it's a bad combination. fortunately work affords me the freedom to waste time. and time i do waste - or at least utilise for non-work efforts. now if there was only a way to take care of the horny aspect of my life...

the seven year itch - why is this real? am i just a cliche waiting to reinforce itself? will i keep asking questions ad infinitum? hmmm?

bla bla bla yes malcontented and idle disenfranchised gen x bla bla dad left us bla bla fear commitment etc...

the mundane is a given, but the unusual, the privy, the relief is not. forgiveness is for the weak. the strong want justice and pursue justice. (goodness, what a good american i am)

oh stuff it and just bomb the hell out of the enemy...

Sunday, October 07, 2001

post 1

i woke up twice today and considered the path of enlightenment. i decided rice krispies were my guide to true understanding. i listened to their crackled wisdom and devoured their spent protests. somehow, i still feel unfulfilled... perhaps their purpose lies in another area of knowledge:

http://ugweb.cs.ualberta.ca/~c329/rep.htm

or maybe not...

http://mrnutty.yclan.net/~lilgorgor/snapcracklepop.html