im a hairdresser not a hooker
jenn
a v. blonde, v. naive girl on casnio last nite
some have vaginas and some dont, these she male freaks
a vice cop about transgendered sex workers on nypd 24/7
(also last nite )
some thots
my mother said they put all of the tame, nice ones on liason and let the assholes be on the regular forces...i saw that if i was in tg in nyc right now, sex worker or not then i wouldnt trust anyone at all.
and about jenn--no yr not, most hookers are smarter then that.
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
“Pornography exists everywhere, of course, but when it comes into societies in which it’s difficult for young men and women to get together and do what young men and women often like doing, it satisfies a more general need; and, while doing so, it sometimes becomes a kind of standard-bearer for freedom, even for civilization.”
The East is Blue -- Salman Rushdie
“Doubtless, sex tales were told about the Neanderthal campfire and perhaps instructive positions drawn on cave walls. Meanwhile, the human race was busy establishing such exciting institutions as slavery and ifs first cousin, marriage.”
From the Introduction -- Gore Vidal
Porn consists not merely of sex, but of what surrounds it. . . Porn is not the exception to photography’s rule. Porn is the ceiling toward which all photographs asymptotically climb.”
www.MyPornEssay.com -- Wayne Koestenbaum
from here brillaint photos, both clothed and unclothed, qauint, gentle, sweet...flaccid in all of the senses of the word.
proper interesting academic writing w/o being dull and unnessc.
via daze reader
The East is Blue -- Salman Rushdie
“Doubtless, sex tales were told about the Neanderthal campfire and perhaps instructive positions drawn on cave walls. Meanwhile, the human race was busy establishing such exciting institutions as slavery and ifs first cousin, marriage.”
From the Introduction -- Gore Vidal
Porn consists not merely of sex, but of what surrounds it. . . Porn is not the exception to photography’s rule. Porn is the ceiling toward which all photographs asymptotically climb.”
www.MyPornEssay.com -- Wayne Koestenbaum
from here brillaint photos, both clothed and unclothed, qauint, gentle, sweet...flaccid in all of the senses of the word.
proper interesting academic writing w/o being dull and unnessc.
via daze reader
Monday, June 28, 2004
queensland racist party leaders apparently force minors into sex orgies in order to intitate them into pagan cults.
i dont know what to say.
i dont know what to say.
a woman tries to annul her marriage b/c her partner has decided to become post-op, saying "his failure to disclose his gender identity before the wedding constitutes "a fraud involving the essentials of marriage.""
The interesting thing here is that it might make a pre cedent about ther nature of personhood, when does a transsexual become a transsexual, when he has the operation, at birth, somewhere inbetween
when is gender determined by money and when is gender deterined by something else entirely.
is the wife a woman scorned, an intolerant and ignoranty bitch or something else entirely.
The interesting thing here is that it might make a pre cedent about ther nature of personhood, when does a transsexual become a transsexual, when he has the operation, at birth, somewhere inbetween
when is gender determined by money and when is gender deterined by something else entirely.
is the wife a woman scorned, an intolerant and ignoranty bitch or something else entirely.
the CIA and the POTUS keep pissing in each others mouths, but w/o any of the delightful german implications
Kenneth Maxwell, editor for the Foreign Review, quit after Kissenger preussed (sp) him to cut short a letters debate concerning Chile. Kissenger felt uncomfortable with the frank and open discussion of the role that the United States had in certain actvities in Chile.
Mr Maxwell, yr our kind of people.
Mr Maxwell, yr our kind of people.
la cops are beating black people on the side of the high way, they havent learnt there lesson the last time around.
New York State declared the death penalty unconstituional. Its not cruel and unusal, but about cocersion.
my buddy drew got hitched over the weekend, and i told this story to everyone after a couple of g and ts (genorus g and ts--had in the back of an rev 4, but thats another story altogether); drew is a quiet man, kind to a fault but quiet as anything could be, meek, polite, not interuipting, calm--and so he tended to do favours.
he also has a v. old car, a mid 80s dodge omni hatchback, with the windows covered with duct tape and plastic, the thing rattled and looked like it was on its last legs, sometimes i got a ride in this car, a genuine beater but his own--drew believed in private ownership (drew loved superman, something the rest of my friends in comics despised, as sqaure,silly. boring, american--drew had the values of superman, he was steadfast, all american, sqaure, earnest, boring--but he made what would be deficets virtues)
this story began in mid jan., when we were driving the few km from the uni to my house, and we were trying to talk (or i was attempting to outearnest drew, something that was akin to outearnesting superman) and instead of continuing the awkard talk, we turned on the compact disc player.
elvis, the peckerwood, the poor boy from tupelo gone grotesque, the besquined vegas camp magnet, the soilder because what else were you supposed to do, the man who managed to make jesus as sexy as priscilla in white cotton panties--came pouring out of the loud speakers--not any elvis, but jailhouse rock, the one i assumed to be homoerotic (because with those hips, that hair, the fluidness, i needed him to be a little queer), because the most passionite song i heard.
drew sang along, drew curled his lips, drew moved his hand s on the steering weel, drew let in the howl in one deep breath, and drew became unsqaure, he became sexy, his kindness didnt manter, by channelling one idol he forgot the other.
two things here, one--this is why graceland is holy and why elvis is now being spotted at a burger king in biloxi, b/c america needs her home grown diynosus, to help teach drew that even a polite southern boy who loves his mother and god can become filthy under the radar
the other is that (because they left their wedding to a little less conversation, i have hope) i dont want drew to settle down to his wife , his mexican honey moon, his eventual career in the suburbs and put elvis away. one cold night, i want him to do melissa what he he couldnt do to me.
ie fuck her to the rabid junkyard howlings of the orignal holy rock and roller, in a way that the king never managed to.
he also has a v. old car, a mid 80s dodge omni hatchback, with the windows covered with duct tape and plastic, the thing rattled and looked like it was on its last legs, sometimes i got a ride in this car, a genuine beater but his own--drew believed in private ownership (drew loved superman, something the rest of my friends in comics despised, as sqaure,silly. boring, american--drew had the values of superman, he was steadfast, all american, sqaure, earnest, boring--but he made what would be deficets virtues)
this story began in mid jan., when we were driving the few km from the uni to my house, and we were trying to talk (or i was attempting to outearnest drew, something that was akin to outearnesting superman) and instead of continuing the awkard talk, we turned on the compact disc player.
elvis, the peckerwood, the poor boy from tupelo gone grotesque, the besquined vegas camp magnet, the soilder because what else were you supposed to do, the man who managed to make jesus as sexy as priscilla in white cotton panties--came pouring out of the loud speakers--not any elvis, but jailhouse rock, the one i assumed to be homoerotic (because with those hips, that hair, the fluidness, i needed him to be a little queer), because the most passionite song i heard.
drew sang along, drew curled his lips, drew moved his hand s on the steering weel, drew let in the howl in one deep breath, and drew became unsqaure, he became sexy, his kindness didnt manter, by channelling one idol he forgot the other.
two things here, one--this is why graceland is holy and why elvis is now being spotted at a burger king in biloxi, b/c america needs her home grown diynosus, to help teach drew that even a polite southern boy who loves his mother and god can become filthy under the radar
the other is that (because they left their wedding to a little less conversation, i have hope) i dont want drew to settle down to his wife , his mexican honey moon, his eventual career in the suburbs and put elvis away. one cold night, i want him to do melissa what he he couldnt do to me.
ie fuck her to the rabid junkyard howlings of the orignal holy rock and roller, in a way that the king never managed to.
my buddy drew got hitched over the weekend, and i told this story to everyone after a couple of g and ts (genorus g and ts--had in the back of an rev 4, but thats another story altogether); drew is a quiet man, kind to a fault but quiet as anything could be, meek, polite, not interuipting, calm--and so he tended to do favours.
he also has a v. old car, a mid 80s dodge omni hatchback, with the windows covered with duct tape and plastic, the thing rattled and looked like it was on its last legs, sometimes i got a ride in this car, a genuine beater but his own--drew believed in private ownership (drew loved superman, something the rest of my friends in comics despised, as sqaure,silly. boring, american--drew had the values of superman, he was steadfast, all american, sqaure, earnest, boring--but he made what would be deficets virtues)
this story began in mid jan., when we were driving the few km from the uni to my house, and we were trying to talk (or i was attempting to outearnest drew, something that was akin to outearnesting superman) and instead of continuing the awkard talk, we turned on the compact disc player.
elvis, the peckerwood, the poor boy from tupelo gone grotesque, the besquined vegas camp magnet, the soilder because what else were you supposed to do, the man who managed to make jesus as sexy as priscilla in white cotton panties--came pouring out of the loud speakers--not any elvis, but jailhouse rock, the one i assumed to be homoerotic (because with those hips, that hair, the fluidness, i needed him to be a little queer), because the most passionite song i heard.
drew sang along, drew curled his lips, drew moved his hand s on the steering weel, drew let in the howl in one deep breath, and drew became unsqaure, he became sexy, his kindness didnt manter, by channelling one idol he forgot the other.
two things here, one--this is why graceland is holy and why elvis is now being spotted at a burger king in biloxi, b/c america needs her home grown diynosus, to help teach drew that even a polite southern boy who loves his mother and god can become filthy under the radar
the other is that (because they left their wedding to a little less conversation, i have hope) i dont want drew to settle down to his wife , his mexican honey moon, his eventual career in the suburbs and put elvis away. one cold night, i want him to do melissa what he he couldnt do to me.
ie fuck her to the rabid junkyard howlings of the orignal holy rock and roller, in a way that the king never managed to.
he also has a v. old car, a mid 80s dodge omni hatchback, with the windows covered with duct tape and plastic, the thing rattled and looked like it was on its last legs, sometimes i got a ride in this car, a genuine beater but his own--drew believed in private ownership (drew loved superman, something the rest of my friends in comics despised, as sqaure,silly. boring, american--drew had the values of superman, he was steadfast, all american, sqaure, earnest, boring--but he made what would be deficets virtues)
this story began in mid jan., when we were driving the few km from the uni to my house, and we were trying to talk (or i was attempting to outearnest drew, something that was akin to outearnesting superman) and instead of continuing the awkard talk, we turned on the compact disc player.
elvis, the peckerwood, the poor boy from tupelo gone grotesque, the besquined vegas camp magnet, the soilder because what else were you supposed to do, the man who managed to make jesus as sexy as priscilla in white cotton panties--came pouring out of the loud speakers--not any elvis, but jailhouse rock, the one i assumed to be homoerotic (because with those hips, that hair, the fluidness, i needed him to be a little queer), because the most passionite song i heard.
drew sang along, drew curled his lips, drew moved his hand s on the steering weel, drew let in the howl in one deep breath, and drew became unsqaure, he became sexy, his kindness didnt manter, by channelling one idol he forgot the other.
two things here, one--this is why graceland is holy and why elvis is now being spotted at a burger king in biloxi, b/c america needs her home grown diynosus, to help teach drew that even a polite southern boy who loves his mother and god can become filthy under the radar
the other is that (because they left their wedding to a little less conversation, i have hope) i dont want drew to settle down to his wife , his mexican honey moon, his eventual career in the suburbs and put elvis away. one cold night, i want him to do melissa what he he couldnt do to me.
ie fuck her to the rabid junkyard howlings of the orignal holy rock and roller, in a way that the king never managed to.
Sunday, June 27, 2004
four days in bragg creek @ drews wedding, last hurrah for those friends i think, isolation of course, but an essential joy...forgot my fucking notebok though, the one with all of the notes for my ana story though (and i wanted to screw rotten most of the men there, including the groom, his best man, his brother, a large chunk of the guests...i wonder if there is a fetish site for fundmentalist xians)
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
not only are wal mart's union busting, low paying, community destroying practices enthical, they also apparently have been fucking over women
hitchens sends the anal sodomizing monkeys after michael moore--lots of this i agree with, but some of it ad hominem bile that hitchens is too clever and too good for.
not that mr moore doesnt deserve it, for being such a sloppy ideolouge. (see i think that muckraking is a v. good thing, but the problem is that you have to note when even you are too dirty)
not that mr moore doesnt deserve it, for being such a sloppy ideolouge. (see i think that muckraking is a v. good thing, but the problem is that you have to note when even you are too dirty)
i was trying to find gary indianas article on richard serras steel sculptures, and i found this hardcore industrial shots of Gary, Indiana's steel mining history
accidental happiness !
accidental happiness !
not only is the indian spiderman an excellent example of interzone cross politiation, it looks fanfuckingtastic.
more here indian as in from india
anyone w. any idea what langauge ?
more here indian as in from india
anyone w. any idea what langauge ?
Octpush is a tag in NYC (LES And Brooklyn) that has gotten some currency--manages to be simple, cute, ambigous,messy, ugly and gorgeous--want to see more of them, but here are a half dozen
Sunday, June 20, 2004
saw the cremaster cycle today (4/5)
notes directly:
bagpipe music in the isle of man one is all scratchy and noisy
i really like the colour of testicles
centuar with shorn horns, ron perlman in hellboy,
escape thru tunnels, vas deferens/wombs
all this fucking lubricant
isle of man makes me reconsider girl on a motorcycle-!
swimming thru pearls, like fish roe
cod peices
doves (jacobian doves !?)
couteiers in crimson and orange--twins ?
ribbons all over the place
the lights like ovaries, the angels bless the house
opera=high code for low emotion
pink slit betwixt black leather
drums on empty stage
stuffed/inflatable
pools of water
lillies ribbons
4(goat,excess, servents, centaurs)
dancers,doves,mistresses)
baubled pairs
climbs the bean stock
black leather bodice
hand peice of two glass spheres connected by gold
two pennies
love on stage as an assumed 3rd audience, this does not
orchestra as audeince
like a whistler painting
underwater, baptism/drowning
min black on a black horse, are they dying together
winter field, black trees
emph. on footwear
naked under his cloak, white bone futursitc goves and manacles
langourus cuts
tragic, almost camp, so over time (does it realize this?)
germanic (remake of wagner)
horse rides alone (western)
dives off bridge in mantacels naked (houdini and the water sequences in 4, the centuar dives beneath the floor, handcuffed or weighted)
swelling strings
greygreen river much like the forrest (intercessional ?)
strange biomechincals (pool, shoe, robotic vaginas and anuses, unrelated or pseudorelated to ursla andress)
broad silent acting more kabuki then gish
18th centuy polychrome itaalian clupture of angelic kids
4 mermaids live under roe
full size, with fetal faces
marie attonies, wating to rise to coutiers
saphhic
barney comes in, as neptune, with red tulip feet, walks into the water, the attendants come and tie ribbons to genderless gentila, and then doves take the ribbons and fly it to the celling, pulling out (cremaster) his cock
majorettes/busby berkley one idea taken too far
sex--bees over whelming
houdini
salt flats
norman mailer (who wrote about gilmore, and gilmore is in this one)
rythimic
sacred/secert rituals in rooms shaped like honeycombs (lds deseret)
rock and roll (slayer--inside joke--cf blood revenge(ww) lds (think laban)
Brahma Bulls
rock and roll as GGs first break w. the church
Desert
wax phallus
everything overwhelmed w. bees (work, efficency but also groupthink)
matthew barney and his ego
does everything have subliminal meanings ?
(dino gas)
two cars connected by honeycomb (replacement, intercessary again, conduit)
slc tabernacle, w. 12 men--scale model
petrojelly everywhere (in the flapdown wind visor)
old fashioned american gothics (the gilmore murder/the architechture of slc)
12 apostles, 12 tribes, 12 riders, 12 flags, latter 12 bison
american/canuck flags
rodeo (angola + gary on the bull, bull dies as gary rides, sacfricial)
circle of salt,
4 beehive sentinals
cops on mounts in atheltic patterns
2nd half about drones and queens,
mounties, lakes, rocky mtns, banff springs
surreal in its most litearal sense
chris& i talking
PinkMoosePearl: yeah
PinkMoosePearl: and i love it
the minor thirds: i haven't seen sleep
the minor thirds: but the stills i've seen didn't seem particularly shiny
PinkMoosePearl: do you know what barney reminded me of
the minor thirds: britney?
PinkMoosePearl: mass
PinkMoosePearl: and lds temples
PinkMoosePearl: rodeos
PinkMoosePearl: musical rides
the minor thirds: how so?
PinkMoosePearl: its weird and its ancient
PinkMoosePearl: but you dont notice it, cause you do it so often
PinkMoosePearl: when was the last time you saw some really excellent horse work
PinkMoosePearl: or some really transcendant world shattering tap dancing
the minor thirds: when i was in canada
the minor thirds: we watched some rodeo
the minor thirds: although i admit i was paying more attention to how all the riders looked the sam
the minor thirds: same
the minor thirds: i haven't seen transcendent tap dancing live. it's been a while since i've seen it in a movie
PinkMoosePearl: rodeo does it for me
PinkMoosePearl: and everyone assumes its cause i want to fuck the cowboys
PinkMoosePearl: its all about how man and aminal merge in a way we have jettisoned
PinkMoosePearl: barney reminds me that there is something left
PinkMoosePearl: something holy
PinkMoosePearl: in hi/lo animal/machine
the minor thirds: does barney remind you of that or do you remind you of that?
notes directly:
bagpipe music in the isle of man one is all scratchy and noisy
i really like the colour of testicles
centuar with shorn horns, ron perlman in hellboy,
escape thru tunnels, vas deferens/wombs
all this fucking lubricant
isle of man makes me reconsider girl on a motorcycle-!
swimming thru pearls, like fish roe
cod peices
doves (jacobian doves !?)
couteiers in crimson and orange--twins ?
ribbons all over the place
the lights like ovaries, the angels bless the house
opera=high code for low emotion
pink slit betwixt black leather
drums on empty stage
stuffed/inflatable
pools of water
lillies ribbons
4(goat,excess, servents, centaurs)
dancers,doves,mistresses)
baubled pairs
climbs the bean stock
black leather bodice
hand peice of two glass spheres connected by gold
two pennies
love on stage as an assumed 3rd audience, this does not
orchestra as audeince
like a whistler painting
underwater, baptism/drowning
min black on a black horse, are they dying together
winter field, black trees
emph. on footwear
naked under his cloak, white bone futursitc goves and manacles
langourus cuts
tragic, almost camp, so over time (does it realize this?)
germanic (remake of wagner)
horse rides alone (western)
dives off bridge in mantacels naked (houdini and the water sequences in 4, the centuar dives beneath the floor, handcuffed or weighted)
swelling strings
greygreen river much like the forrest (intercessional ?)
strange biomechincals (pool, shoe, robotic vaginas and anuses, unrelated or pseudorelated to ursla andress)
broad silent acting more kabuki then gish
18th centuy polychrome itaalian clupture of angelic kids
4 mermaids live under roe
full size, with fetal faces
marie attonies, wating to rise to coutiers
saphhic
barney comes in, as neptune, with red tulip feet, walks into the water, the attendants come and tie ribbons to genderless gentila, and then doves take the ribbons and fly it to the celling, pulling out (cremaster) his cock
majorettes/busby berkley one idea taken too far
sex--bees over whelming
houdini
salt flats
norman mailer (who wrote about gilmore, and gilmore is in this one)
rythimic
sacred/secert rituals in rooms shaped like honeycombs (lds deseret)
rock and roll (slayer--inside joke--cf blood revenge(ww) lds (think laban)
Brahma Bulls
rock and roll as GGs first break w. the church
Desert
wax phallus
everything overwhelmed w. bees (work, efficency but also groupthink)
matthew barney and his ego
does everything have subliminal meanings ?
(dino gas)
two cars connected by honeycomb (replacement, intercessary again, conduit)
slc tabernacle, w. 12 men--scale model
petrojelly everywhere (in the flapdown wind visor)
old fashioned american gothics (the gilmore murder/the architechture of slc)
12 apostles, 12 tribes, 12 riders, 12 flags, latter 12 bison
american/canuck flags
rodeo (angola + gary on the bull, bull dies as gary rides, sacfricial)
circle of salt,
4 beehive sentinals
cops on mounts in atheltic patterns
2nd half about drones and queens,
mounties, lakes, rocky mtns, banff springs
surreal in its most litearal sense
chris& i talking
PinkMoosePearl: yeah
PinkMoosePearl: and i love it
the minor thirds: i haven't seen sleep
the minor thirds: but the stills i've seen didn't seem particularly shiny
PinkMoosePearl: do you know what barney reminded me of
the minor thirds: britney?
PinkMoosePearl: mass
PinkMoosePearl: and lds temples
PinkMoosePearl: rodeos
PinkMoosePearl: musical rides
the minor thirds: how so?
PinkMoosePearl: its weird and its ancient
PinkMoosePearl: but you dont notice it, cause you do it so often
PinkMoosePearl: when was the last time you saw some really excellent horse work
PinkMoosePearl: or some really transcendant world shattering tap dancing
the minor thirds: when i was in canada
the minor thirds: we watched some rodeo
the minor thirds: although i admit i was paying more attention to how all the riders looked the sam
the minor thirds: same
the minor thirds: i haven't seen transcendent tap dancing live. it's been a while since i've seen it in a movie
PinkMoosePearl: rodeo does it for me
PinkMoosePearl: and everyone assumes its cause i want to fuck the cowboys
PinkMoosePearl: its all about how man and aminal merge in a way we have jettisoned
PinkMoosePearl: barney reminds me that there is something left
PinkMoosePearl: something holy
PinkMoosePearl: in hi/lo animal/machine
the minor thirds: does barney remind you of that or do you remind you of that?
Friday, June 18, 2004
second jeopardy tests
the first is 10 questions, you are supposed to get 8 on that one.
the second is 50 and you are supposed to get 40...i got 30.
the first is 10 questions, you are supposed to get 8 on that one.
the second is 50 and you are supposed to get 40...i got 30.
Brian Willaims--a promient queer activist in jamcia has been murdered, most likely due to his poltical activites...dancehall homophobia has done its job
here
here
Annan is deeply upset that the americans are not following international law and is convinced that their should be consqunees (think the hague) for those who tortured, or commisioned the torture at abu ghabi.
i would agree w. him
i would agree w. him
Sunday, June 13, 2004
sometimes when i'm lonely
and there's no booze
the house
i go and listen to candy says
imagine that my penis
has shrivelled into some
genderless vestigial remain
my breasts are tender
i'm dying of cancer
in a tacky apartment on the lower east side
cause no one knows
that i'm better then marilyn
then i wake up
realize my life isn't nearly that interesting
my big dick returns
so i put in my mouth
and suckle myself to sleep
and there's no booze
the house
i go and listen to candy says
imagine that my penis
has shrivelled into some
genderless vestigial remain
my breasts are tender
i'm dying of cancer
in a tacky apartment on the lower east side
cause no one knows
that i'm better then marilyn
then i wake up
realize my life isn't nearly that interesting
my big dick returns
so i put in my mouth
and suckle myself to sleep
sometimes when i'm lonely
and there's no booze
the house
i go and listen to candy says
imagine that my penis
has shrivelled into some
genderless vestigial remain
my breasts are tender
i'm dying of cancer
in a tacky apartment on the lower east side
cause no one knows
that i'm better then marylin
and then i wake up
and realize my life isn't nearly that interesting
and my big dick returns
and there's no booze
the house
i go and listen to candy says
imagine that my penis
has shrivelled into some
genderless vestigial remain
my breasts are tender
i'm dying of cancer
in a tacky apartment on the lower east side
cause no one knows
that i'm better then marylin
and then i wake up
and realize my life isn't nearly that interesting
and my big dick returns
Saturday, June 12, 2004
an anarchist doesnt think about these things
sometimes i piss myself
but mostly i fall down
and forget
at the grocery store
with everyone looking on
almost not paying the clerk
at home in the kitchen,
in the bathroom,in my bedroom
desire swooned and now so do i
at used bookstores
in the dark upstairs
between the racks of sweaty playboys
it used to be seizures
and now its something else
sometimes i piss myself
but mostly i fall down
and forget
at the grocery store
with everyone looking on
almost not paying the clerk
at home in the kitchen,
in the bathroom,in my bedroom
desire swooned and now so do i
at used bookstores
in the dark upstairs
between the racks of sweaty playboys
it used to be seizures
and now its something else
an anarchist doesnt think about these things
sometimes i piss myself
but mostly i fall down
and forget
hours,
conversations
grocery visits
phone calls
my mind goes
sometimes
it comes back
its not seizures
its something else
w/o a general
the soilders go
from boat to swamp
and the mud
over their boots
smells like shit
chaos and
worry
no real reason
sometimes i piss myself
but mostly i fall down
and forget
hours,
conversations
grocery visits
phone calls
my mind goes
sometimes
it comes back
its not seizures
its something else
w/o a general
the soilders go
from boat to swamp
and the mud
over their boots
smells like shit
chaos and
worry
no real reason
an anarchist doesnt think about these things
no control
body not following brain
brain not leading the body
fall down
thrash
drool
sometimes i piss myself
most often
i don't remember
meals
or phone calls
or things written
on the floor,
and hours gone
somewhere
snuck out the front door
a tomcat's muddle
no control
body not following brain
brain not leading the body
fall down
thrash
drool
sometimes i piss myself
most often
i don't remember
meals
or phone calls
or things written
on the floor,
and hours gone
somewhere
snuck out the front door
a tomcat's muddle
an anarchist doesnt think about these things
no control
body not following brain
brain not leading the body
fall down
thrash
drool
sometimes i piss myself
most often
i don't remember
meals
or phone calls
or things written
on the floor,
and hours gone
somewhere
snuck out the front door
a tomcat's muddle
no control
body not following brain
brain not leading the body
fall down
thrash
drool
sometimes i piss myself
most often
i don't remember
meals
or phone calls
or things written
on the floor,
and hours gone
somewhere
snuck out the front door
a tomcat's muddle
Thursday, June 10, 2004
on the tv last night, i said to my mom how amazing ray charles was, esp. his country albums from the mid 60s, which break my heart every time i hear them--its hard to describe, he is aware of the change in idiom that country (endured?) from hillbilly music and blues to something else entirely.
and he took that change, and he moved back, to the southern roots, and forward to the countrypolitian sound and sort of side ways and did it w. a gorgeous immediacey.
now he did other things (see his rendetion of georgia) but that work on the country albums...fuck are they amazing.
he died last night, and im not sure they are on compact disc, but find them and listen to them--NOW!
and he took that change, and he moved back, to the southern roots, and forward to the countrypolitian sound and sort of side ways and did it w. a gorgeous immediacey.
now he did other things (see his rendetion of georgia) but that work on the country albums...fuck are they amazing.
he died last night, and im not sure they are on compact disc, but find them and listen to them--NOW!
Monday, June 07, 2004
i wished that, if she needed to move into classics to find a mawkish and slightly misogynist story of women as victim, she would have chose madam bovary, cause everyone needs to read flaubert.
they dont need to read war and peace.
jessa crispin at bookslut thinks that she didnt chose the translator but chose the edition b/c it was the "prettiest"
Sunday, June 06, 2004
Friday, June 04, 2004
mormon missonaries in new york
i cannot imagine much worse, really...the people in nyc invented the fuck you.
i cannot imagine much worse, really...the people in nyc invented the fuck you.
juicy fruit,
in the back of her mouth
near the molars
watching her almost not chew,
with peternatural ease.
and how she eases the mound,
like its alive
away from her mouth
towards her lips, covering them
with a clean white napkin , delicate femme
passing it from from lip to hand
to garbage can
cradles juicy fruit, betwixt the back
of her tongue and the molars crack
tends to its supple nature: a breeze
some elegant preternatural ease.
You can't tell she's chewing by her jaw,
and she doesn't look at you, w. that maw
because she's about to drive
easing the mound, like its alive
towards her lips, covering them
with a clean white napkin , delicate femme
passing it from from lip to hand
to garbage can
its about the juicy fruit, and how she
holds it closely, elegantly
between the molars and the jaws
and i watch her, its because
of her ease, and how you cannot
tell what is happening, how she is bought
she looks forward, about to drive
and how the mound is alive
as it moves towards the white
napkine that she places, a bite
away, that white mcdonalds wimple
my love her is so simple
mouth to hand
to garbage can
in the back of her mouth
near the molars
watching her almost not chew,
with peternatural ease.
and how she eases the mound,
like its alive
away from her mouth
towards her lips, covering them
with a clean white napkin , delicate femme
passing it from from lip to hand
to garbage can
cradles juicy fruit, betwixt the back
of her tongue and the molars crack
tends to its supple nature: a breeze
some elegant preternatural ease.
You can't tell she's chewing by her jaw,
and she doesn't look at you, w. that maw
because she's about to drive
easing the mound, like its alive
towards her lips, covering them
with a clean white napkin , delicate femme
passing it from from lip to hand
to garbage can
its about the juicy fruit, and how she
holds it closely, elegantly
between the molars and the jaws
and i watch her, its because
of her ease, and how you cannot
tell what is happening, how she is bought
she looks forward, about to drive
and how the mound is alive
as it moves towards the white
napkine that she places, a bite
away, that white mcdonalds wimple
my love her is so simple
mouth to hand
to garbage can
Thursday, June 03, 2004
its all about how she consumes gum
see, she doesnt spit and she doesnt really chew
its just at the back of the throat, near the molars
and you can only see that she is chewing
by some barely percpitable ephemaral force
and when she is done, she takes her tounge
and nudges the used product to the tip of her mouth
covers her mouth with a wide white napkin and then
deposits it, easier then anything.
all i love about her concerns itself with the grace
of the gum chewing.
(product and consume are both wrong, hasnt been checked)
see, she doesnt spit and she doesnt really chew
its just at the back of the throat, near the molars
and you can only see that she is chewing
by some barely percpitable ephemaral force
and when she is done, she takes her tounge
and nudges the used product to the tip of her mouth
covers her mouth with a wide white napkin and then
deposits it, easier then anything.
all i love about her concerns itself with the grace
of the gum chewing.
(product and consume are both wrong, hasnt been checked)
So, i am excited about Agnes Martins new work--for the longest time nothing seemed to phase her, she still painted the same thing. She could live beside the grotesque and new fangled creations of Bruce Nauman (as she had been for almost forty years, until 2000 where she had to be moved into a nursing home), and have him over for tea but still put lines on canvases, she could move from Saskatchewan to New York to Taos and still put lines on canvases, she could be 90 and in the tate and sold for a million and have her book of writing out and still put lines on canvases. She could be a cult favourite instead of loved by everyone and still put lines on canvases. Sometimes the fields are a different colour, more bright or more dark, sometimes she uses yellow or taupe instead of lavender or mauve--and sometimes the lines are dark, sometimes they are almost Pace and sometimes they hum like power lines--but she has had a zen forbearance, like the man who spent 70 years painting bamboo. Then in her latest work, now at the Pace Wildenstein in New York--she has placed yellow tipped triangles and black trapezoids in the middle of her lines, and i'm ecstatic, its the most exciting, new and sexy thing i have heard in at least this year--and she did it in her mid 90s ... gives me hope, it does.
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
what ever happened to severe, abstract, meaningful monuments, the new wwii one at the mall is so cold, so obvious, so lacking in any subtlety, all about pounding the propghandic message of sacrifice and war and the greatest generation, that it forgets the dead and only remebers jingoistic symbols.
its like liebskiends memoiral for 9/11 w. the tower that is `1776 feet tall--so the arrogance of captialism, the phallic agression that was punished in the attacks will be restored, because we can no longer do horizontal spaces, open spaces, spaces that can be added to.
look at the flowers, flags, memoirs, the vetrans tents outside the gates, all of it cannot be done with a space that does the telling for you...it can only be done in a space that leaves gaps to plug.
there is nothing human, nothing small, nothing real in the 9/11 spave or the wwii space--even fischls copper nude, twisted in agony is more real, if we want real, and more human if we want human, then anything else.
its like liebskiends memoiral for 9/11 w. the tower that is `1776 feet tall--so the arrogance of captialism, the phallic agression that was punished in the attacks will be restored, because we can no longer do horizontal spaces, open spaces, spaces that can be added to.
look at the flowers, flags, memoirs, the vetrans tents outside the gates, all of it cannot be done with a space that does the telling for you...it can only be done in a space that leaves gaps to plug.
there is nothing human, nothing small, nothing real in the 9/11 spave or the wwii space--even fischls copper nude, twisted in agony is more real, if we want real, and more human if we want human, then anything else.
another grand mal, scary losing my brain, computer fucked.
real live preacher recommends via email that i take serious hard core spirtual direction from the anglicans, which is something that i have been thinking about for a while, and said that i may be on the cusp of a spiritual breakthrough.
i think that the question i am asking though is the same question i am asking about particpory(sp) democracy--namely do i want to be part of this system, do i think that this system is worthwhile.
or is it so corrupt that i should burn the barn in order to see the sunrise.
drew stood me up.
real live preacher recommends via email that i take serious hard core spirtual direction from the anglicans, which is something that i have been thinking about for a while, and said that i may be on the cusp of a spiritual breakthrough.
i think that the question i am asking though is the same question i am asking about particpory(sp) democracy--namely do i want to be part of this system, do i think that this system is worthwhile.
or is it so corrupt that i should burn the barn in order to see the sunrise.
drew stood me up.
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