Friday, February 27, 2009

Saturday, In The Park (I Think It Was The 4th of July)

Saturday, in the park
I think it was the fourth of July
People dancing, people laughing
A man selling ice cream
Singing Italian songs

As an artist, there is no higher goal than recreating the feeling of children's innocent laughter. That simple joy we all yearn to keep till the day we die. That's why it is said: to enter the Kingdom of Heaven one must enter as a child. For you see, children don't know to lie. But then we get "smart" and spend the rest of our lives trying to get back to that innocent point.

Oh, I know what all the "smart" people say - the too-hip-to-be-hurt, the too-sly-to-cry, the too-slick-to-let-the-truth-stick crowd - I hear them all the time. I hear bitterness, wrath and vengeance - all sought upon themselves. They say, "That's the way it's gotta be, man!" and other such rot. But as for me, I'll take a Saturday in the park any day. Leave your hell behind and join in!

People talking, really smiling
A man playing guitar
Singing for us all
Will you help him change the world?

Oh, but then we see this on our lovely afternoon:

The good people were unanimous in their outrage:

"What a sick and cruel fate! No one should suffer a slow and painful death like this! No one! What sort of society commits such an act of barbarity? Not one with a future, I can tell you that! I don't care what that man has done, this cannot be tolerated! As a good and civilized people, we must remedy this offense to decency. Justice is a cornerstone of civilization, we'd crumble without it. You may say this is just one man, but I say our treatment of this one man defines us all. In fact, it defines our very future!"
Listen children all is not lost
All is not lost

Even a humanoid Republicant feigned outrage. "How dare they show such a thing in a public! Children are playing here. We must hide this so the little ones won't see our evil!"

The park festivities stopped in communal respect for the suffering soul on the cross. No one knew the man - he could be scum of the earth for all they knew - but that mattered not. Well written blogs of protest were posted and hailed for their morality. Never had the fabric of society come together so - and never had it been more obvious the vitalness of that fabric. The true safety net in life, they found, lay only with each other.

And thus was born the hope of a New Beginning. A different kind of hope - not like the empty one before held only by shut eyes. This was real and tangible, you could feel it. As one pair of smiling eyes looked into another, no words were necessary to convey the dawning joy. It was as if a long unspoken dream had come true at last. How strange, they noticed, that by facing their vulnerabilities they also had realized their greatest strength.

The feeling was one of immortality.

People reaching, people touching
A real celebration
Waiting for us all
If we want it, really want it

That's when word came back on the man being crucified under the afternoon sun as celebrations had danced around him: he was unemployed.

Again, the reaction was universal: "Oh, hell, nothing we can do about that. Tough luck, pal. Everyone has to pull their weight!"

And hope for all was replaced with viciousness for all.


"Poverty is the worst form of violence."
-Mahatma Gandhi

The difference between crucifixion and homelessness is that crucifixion is more humane. Guess what happens when you get sick living out on the streets: you get sicker. Your arm could fall off and nobody would care. Worried about that lump on the back of your neck? Go ahead, worry yourself to death. You don't count, you're invisible and any harm that befalls you is considered just.

I know what all the serious suits say: yes, we have problems but we'll find a way. But I've got news for you and all other self-deceived souls: there is no way to live with savagery. What's most galling is that we don't even admit our savagery. We call it a "necessary evil". You "smart" people are so funny. This I can guarantee: all those who believe in a "necessary evil" will become unnecessary people.

I am not a good soul. I am not Jesus. I don't forgive and I don't forget. I hope all you fuckers burn in hell - and you will, mostly because you believe it will never happen.

I do count. I am somebody. My soul has worth no matter what my crimes. I judge you not but your judgement of my fate has sealed your own.

Give back to her as she has given;
pay her back double for what she has done.
Mix her a double portion from her own cup.
Give her as much torture and grief
as the glory and luxury she gave herself.
In her heart she boasts,
'I sit as queen, I am not a widow,
and I will never mourn.'
Therefore in one day her plagues will overtake her;
death, mourning, and famine.
She will be consumed by fire,
for mighty is the Lord God who judges her.

Mock it at your peril, you freaking, goddam morons. I don't quote the Bible, it quotes me.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

The Island, The Plane, Religion And Science

It was an island of harmony because everyone thought the same. But the ice, it always comes, breaking branches and revealing what's inside. For this island - completely cut off from the rest of the world - the ice storm came in the form of a plane making a desperation landing. Many were those who saw the Flying God arrive and they were called Believers.

The Believers made tiny plane icons and prayed to them and wore them around their necks. They worshipped the Flying God and declared it holy. Sick children were brought to it for healing and solemn ceremonies recreated its flight. But the jealousy of holiness consumed the Believers. Since the magical Flying God was not to be doubted, some were deemed not to believe as much as they should - and harmony died a quick death.

Hold the icon holy!

First came the purges, to destroy those who did not believe "correctly". Purges escalated into wars, each side claiming to fight for the "true way" of the Flying God. The "Lockheeds" - who took their name from the plane itself - eventually won the wars and their religion became the religion of the land, suffocating free thought. The Holy Book Manual found on the Flying God was memorized without understanding yet was not be defied. This gave rise to the Skeptics.

The Skeptics had never seen the Flying God fly but at first were too afraid to contradict the fierce conviction with which the Believers spoke. But as purges begat war and insanity begat insanity, they did come to doubt the Flying God. They pointed out it did not heal the sick nor did they find the holy wars to be holy. The stories about it flying were fairy tales and the Holy Book Manual the stuff of fancy, they said. Scientists came and did tests, dropping plane-shaped rocks to the ground saying, "Flying God heavier than rock and rock no fly, so Flying God no fly either."

"My lab coat makes me right!"

From then until the end of the island a war of words flowed between the two religious sects. One day the island volcano began to erupt, signaling the end of their existence. The pilot god who landed the plane saw this and decided leaving to be more paramount than deflowering the island's remaining virgins. He tried to explain the truth to the islanders.

"Look, this plane here ain't no god. There's nothing holy about it at all and it's not worthy of worship! Just get on it like I tell you to." The Believers took great offence at his words, declaring him evil, self-serving and deceptive. "You shall not make our lives worthless!" The pilot was left with only Skeptics, to whom he explained, "Just because the Believers got it wrong about the plane doesn't mean it can't fly. This plane just uses forces of nature you have yet to understand. Don't be so simple-minded!" The Skeptics took great offence at his words, declaring him evil, self-serving and deceptive. "You shall not make our lives worthless!"

The pilot was disgusted. "You ignorant fucks! This plane is your only salvation off this island! You closed-minded cunts are screwing yourselves! I speak only the simple truth, not to please myself."

But the Believers and Skeptics each insisted they spoke the simple truth and the pilot a traitor to their respective religions. The frustrated pilot gave one last plea.

"Child care. Child care is what this is! Is there no one among you who has an open mind?"

A lone voice answered him. "What you say is true!"

"How do you know?" wondered the pilot. "Everyone here says I'm a freakin' liar. They'd rather win an argument than win their lives!"

"I didn't ask them what was true," calmly replied the voice. "I asked myself."

Lone survivor from the island

Epilogue: When the pilot and lone survivor told their tale of the island that died from pride, disbelief was universal. "People would never act that way!" propagated those who heard - and declared the pilot and open-minded soul to be evil, self-serving deceivers. "You shall not make our lives worthless!"

"When you believe in things
"that you don't understand
"then you suffer..."

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Wendy and Lucy (Review)

You might think a movie that honestly portrays the life of a destitute person would cause me to cheer. Think again (or maybe in this case I should say, "try thinking").

Imagine this scene: A helicopter hovers above a Katrina victim dying of thirst on a rooftop. Two reporters are watching from above and one instinctively grabs a bottle of water to drop below, but is stopped by his colleague. "Dude, don't give him that water! It's a much better story if he dies!" (Kirk Douglass actually did a great film on this subject). Wendy and Lucy is the fictional equivalent of that .

Nothing like laughing at the homeless for entertainment. Don't give me all this garbage about sympathetic portrayals and realism and sobbing in the theater. It's for yourself for whom you cry. The evidence for that is in the horrific headlines every day. If you're not going to question why something happens then you condemn your fellow man to the fate of the Light Brigade. Showing torment without questioning is cheap sensationalism.

I can hear the director's thinking now, speaking in earnest and Oscar-worthy tones: "I don't want to attach her doom to any particular cause because that could detract from the direness of her position as people then deconstruct her situation and possibly try to lay blame. What I want - what I need as a director, nay as a human - is to show the injustice of any suffering. That it should never exist for any reason!"

That's so Miss America of you.

"I don't believe anyone
should suffer either."

But there is a reason why she's suffering, you chickenshit fuck. Show me the reason! Say that if you believe money should be valued over people (as 99% of people do), that this is what happens (or at least pick some starting point). Nothing ensures doom more than failing to question. I live in a country that believes just the opposite of that. No one asks if things really do have to be this way. Aw, you poor dumb bastard world, the times they are a-changin'! You just don't get it yet.

All the lefties will stand up and applaud this film for making it seem like they care while sparing them the pain of asking why. Trust me, I understand we crucify people for placing life above all. I understand it undermines the value system of our society and places the blame of economic murder on our own hands instead of God's (or whatever you blame). Yes, the woman suffers - but she suffers for a manmade reason.

Some will argue that showing such suffering will cause people to ask why and that will make them care. If you think this will make people care, well, that's really funny. I mean, that actually makes me chuckle. ("Did you hear about this film that came out in 2009? People care now!") Go ahead and ramp up the propaganda machine, it bothers me not. For it is this I believe in all measures: "By their fruits ye shall know them." And that's all I have to say to a dying planet wrecked by its own inhabitants.

If the director uses this speech to accept his Oscar, though, then all is forgiven: "Thanks for dying out there, you gave me a really great film!"

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

No Flowers For Harry

Life was good in the Village Of Living Well - until the Troublemaker showed up. This malcontent prophesied doom and disaster, he told them that what holds true for today would not hold true for them tomorrow. He preached for a time of sackcloths and ashes to cleanse themselves and thus preserve their village. The villagers were aghast.

"This man poisons the well of our waters!" fumed the Mayor. "He seeks to undermine us with well-spoken words of deception and keep us from the good life we deserve. We cannot let one such as this live among us, for even if just one goes astray, it affects us all. A community is only as strong as its weakest link. And I say we must remedy this matter at all costs."

The words of the Mayor were widely hailed and deemed most wise - even becoming an Editor's Pick in the local paper. But a Logician - the last of his kind since the village had advanced beyond the need for logic - spoke and asked of the Mayor:

"If what the so-called troublemaker says is true, then is it not you, dear Mr. Mayor, who has gone astray and undermines us with well-spoken words of deception? Would it not then be you who keeps us from the good life and whom we must remedy?"

"OK, fucker!" screamed the Mayor. "We'll crucify your goddam ass along with that Jesus guy!"

And on that day both logic and the village savior were murdered.


Life was deemed good in the Village Of The Holy System - except for the One. Because there's always one, isn't there? The misfit, the loser, the weirdo - the one who does not count. And because he did not count, words of woe were thrown upon him.

"Hey loser!" taunted the holy Mayor. "Sucks to be you! Why can't you just get with the program? We're tired of hearing your whining. Life is good for everyone here but you. Doesn't that tell you something? Don't you think you're in need of some self-evaluation? Don't you think it's time for you to grow up and change? It's not our job to fix you! That's your job!"

The words of the Mayor were widely hailed and deemed most wise - even becoming an Editor's Pick in the local paper. But a Humanist - the last of his kind since the village had advanced beyond the need to be human - spoke and asked of the Mayor:

"Did you not also say "for even if just one goes astray, it affects us all"? If so, then is it not our duty to help instead of condemn? And should we not then examine our system since it should be the job of the system to serve its people and not the other way around, for then it becomes destructive?"

The myopic Mayor laughed, then pointed to the loveliness of the village. "What destruction? I see no destruction, only beauty!"

But that did not change the needs of the One, who did need to be seen, and in the middle of night, he poisoned the well, bringing destruction to all. The dying Mayor was bitter as he spat at the One. "We should have never let you live!"

"No," corrected the One, "you should have let me live, instead of just caring about what works for you."

"But we were so close to perfection...just one away."

But there's always one.


I don't know what to do, whether I'm Jesus or Judas, there's no flowers for Harry.


"What you do unto the least of you, you do unto me."
-Jesus Christ, the alleged naive, out-of-touch, unpragmatic, blind, self-serving, unworldy, lying fraud


Has he lost his mind?
Can he see or is he blind?
Can he walk at all,
Or if he moves will he fall?
Is he alive or dead?
Has he thoughts within his head?
Well just pass him there
Why should we even care?

He was turned to steel
In the great magnetic field
Where he traveled time
For the future of mankind

Nobody wants him
He just stares at the world
Planning his vengeance
That he will soon unfold

Now the time is here
For iron man to spread fear
Vengeance from the grave
Kills the people he once saved

Nobody wants him
They just turn their heads
Nobody helps him
Now he has his revenge

Heavy boots of lead
Fills his victims full of dread
Running as fast as they can
Iron man lives again!

Monday, February 16, 2009

How To Be A Con Man (Cliff Notes Version)

Currently, I am reading the book "The Big Con" circa 1940. Apparently some linguistics professor wanted to study the vernacular of grifters and like a cheap movie plot he became completely captivated by the world of the con man. He writes very glowingly of their exploits and is adept at translating the swindles into readable stories. What's funny though is that this little book apparently has been a secret Hollywood source book for years. Stuff I'm reading in here has been ripped off verbatim for everything from "The Sting" to "Alias Smith and Jones" to God knows what else. Interesting to see those kind of cons actually were pulled off in real life. But I digress.

Heyes and Curry!

There are certain realities to life that many either do not admit or have the capacity to know. (Bear in mind, everyone has the capacity to be honest). Con men are old souls, they've been through what you're going through many lifetimes ago. That's what gives them their edge. And with that greater knowledge of the needs of the human soul and the workings of the human mind, one's self-deceptions provide fertile grounds for their cons. Their livelihoods exist in the shadows of the human ego.

Con men hear conversations differently than we do. They know that every human life must have a direction, either thriving or dying. Below is a short list of key words and their opposites. By listening to your use of these words - or even by your avoidance of them - a con man can strip you naked and spot the areas where you're most vulnerable:

Love - Silence
Hate - Expressing
Liberal - Political
Conservative - Mature
Kinky - Healing
Straight - Revealing
Useful - Used
Abused - Growing
Rage - Tears
Dreams - Lies
Religion - Reality
Integrity - Bribery
Interesting - Fleeing
Sexy - Cowardly
Clingy - Confident
Warm - Passionless

So as a con man do I want to approach a sexy lady as a mark? Heck no! Her nerve could very easily be my undoing. But the clingy one has fear and that can be used against her (she will most likely call her weakness a strength in a relationship). Religion is a direct disinterest in reality and you can find some really juicy pigeons there (but you must know how to define religion). But there are also certain degrees of self-deception. Here are three broad categories:

1. "There's no such thing as the truth!"
2. "I sure do wish I could do better..."
3. "Only dummies tell the truth!"

Group 1: Low hanging fruit there! Agree with everything they say and they'll end up spreading their legs like a two dollar whore.
Group 2: Realizes the concept of truth but is seduced by the idea of wishful thinking. Make them think their wishful thinking is real. That's their irresistable dream.
Group 3: Liars always think lying makes them smart (Hello A-Fraud!). Show them you's a dumb ass moron what don't know no better. The more the liar feels he is in control, the more in control you really are.

There's also such a thing as Mirror Questions (and also Mirror People and Mirror Issues). It's just like holding up a mirror and having the person tell you what they see. For example, I'll get nowhere asking a woman what she thinks of her husband if she wants to project a happy marriage ("Oh, he's wonderful!"). But what if I ask what her opinion of men is? ("Men don't communicate well. They really need to grow up." "Oh, you got that right, chile! Tell me all about it.") Cognitive dissonance is a con man's gold!

So have I ruined the game for the con man here? Not at all! This is due to the Peter Principle. But here's a good little axiom to remember: the difference between a wise man and a fool is the wise man knows he's a fool. There's people out there who know a whole lot more about the truth than you do...

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Did I's Do It For The Perp Walk?

Billy the Vagrant shot a man one day in a seething fit of rage. He'd hoped to begin his life by ending it. He sits in his cell a convicted man.

sitting' in this here iron hell gets me to thinkin'. all them suits does is keep askin', "why you do it? why you shoot that nigger down?" each of them's eyes is diff'rent. one set hates ya, another looks curious-like, like you's an animal or sumpthin' - i most never see none that looks human tho. them suits got mean eyes. and they just keeps gettin' meaner as they's houndin' me for answers when i ain't got none to give 'em.

but now when i's alone - when i ain't got all them looks and stares and notebooks and recordin's - it sets me thinking back to that day. i know at the time, i shor felt i had to do it. felt like me whole life was on the line! and that nigra, just standing in front of me like he owned the world, like he got rights an' i don't! just balled up all in me, it did. and if i's just stood there and done nothin' - the whole world was gonna fall on me fer shor!

one thing i learnt in all me years, the world it's a mighty hard place. punks n' cops 'n' hard-heartin' women 'n' the money man what got no soul 'n' folks just mostly lookin' out for their selves - well, that don't leave room for much. no sir, it don't. ya git shoved aroun' an' pissed on an' put out to die and doan nobody think twice about it. i sees them fine-haired folks on tv talkin' fancy, makin' like this worl' is some sorta paradise when really it's jus' ev'ry man for hisself!

so it just didn' seem so wrong to my mind. killin' folks is just the course of doin' bus'ness i say. they puts some heavy loads on me in my time an' i never got nothin' in return. but the man in the big house got plenty from them loads i carried. so that's the way it is, i say, but the one time i takes sumpthin' they makes me out like i's the evilist man alive! what 'bout all them years i held back and just took it ev'ry day when you beats me like a dog? don't that count for nothin'? an' i only kilt me one when i saw's we's killin' a whole country to git us what we wants.

damn, you folks is hard!

but i think i knows now what i wanted that mornin' lookin' at the tv filled with smoke 'n' bombs 'n' blood, how them pictures just reached in my soul. t'weren't no one gonna pay 'ttention to me if i's just kept on takin' it. nope, never gonna win if i doan do what the big shots do. so i shots me a nigger - an' i was right! next thing ya know them cameras and lights is on me! people is wantin' to know what i's thinkin' an' what i's got to say. that never happened afore then! finally, i gits what i wanted.

the high-n-mightys tells me i gotta repent when i'd just as soon resent. don't see them repentin' none at all! not a one of em'! a scornful dead is what they is an' they won't lissen to nothin' but what they wants to anyways. i gives them diff'rent story ev'ry day. makes me smile seein' them scribblin' and talkin' 'mong theirselves, actin' like they's doin' sumpthin' real just so's they can go on drivin' them fancy cars and fakin' like thay's important.

funny tho. i tries tellin' truth to 'em one time. feelin' them pangs in my belly stirrin' like a witches brew. so i tells them flat out i's sorry. but with all the killin' goin' on aroun' me - most a-which most folks doan even admit - well, it just seems like the thing to do, ya know? i tol' them i got cloudy in me head, got all tight in me heart, wantin' to live good like ever'one else does. but when i's done talkin' - thinkin' he'd like me not puttin' no varnish on it this time - the suit just looks at me dead on an' says, "No, that can't be it."


Saturday, February 14, 2009

Cats Of Mirikitani

Poignant (poin'yent) adj.
Profoundly moving, touching.

I lack the eloquence to do this film justice.  Granted, I see films with a far greater attachment than most, so the highs are higher and the lows are lower.  But this documentary was 74 minutes of non-stop tears for me.  Jimmy Mirikitani is homeless, living on the streets of New York, is Japanese, loves cats and loves to draw them.  Pretty much a home run for subjects all designed to affect me.  But other reviews I've read also speak of a hugely emotional experience.

These are not tears of heartbreak, however.  But tears of the simplicity of human emotion, of reconnection, of the staying power of old wounds and the journey to healing.  Sometimes, the universe really does conspire to shower us with blessings.  Jimmy is a human flower, and as we watch him grow with gentle nourishment, I can't help but think this gives cause for hope for the human condition.

You have no idea what it took for me to write that last line.

I'll leave you with a few links below and a sample of Jimmy-san's work.  I truly hope you will explore this film.

Official website

PBS Feature

This and That, My Dead Valentine

I believe in This more than I believe any else. For This is everlasting and escapes the bounds of time. And what can be called Real but not also everlasting? I say this not because I wish it, nor even because I see it, but because I know it - as in the way anything can be known. In the End, only Dreams of Reality can remain - and what will be said of dreams then? Dreamers already know.

That is what I believe I can have. That requires no truth of me. I can hide in its illusion and cowardly deceit. Medals fade to obscurity but metals seal the deal. So That is my running respite. Where man betrays himself, to never face himself. An illusion of reality whose fruit we cannot bear. Praising our Proud Poison, we pray to empty air to ensure our despair. In the End, illusion brings ruin to its believers - and what will be said of illusion then? Only dreamers will be left to know.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Why America Must Die, Reason #243

"In Germany, they came first for the Communists, And I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Communist;
And then they came for the trade unionists, And I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a trade unionist;
And then they came for the Jews, And I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew;
And then . . . they came for me . . . And by that time there was no one left to speak up."

The Purpose of jobs is to humiliate you and destroy the lives of people. They are thieves of the human soul.

"I'm sorry, but I love my job. It is fulfilling and wonderful and I love the sense of purpose it gives me. I'm sorry if things aren't working out for you but you just can't go around shoving your own situation onto other people. Just because things aren't working out for you doesn't give you the right to force your ideas on everybody else. My job feeds my soul and feeds my family. I just don't know how anyone can talk like you do. You just want to destroy everything and for what? Don't be ruining my life because you aren't happy with yours. You can't go around in life thinking only of yourself. Try having a social conscience!"

After the layoff:

"How am I supposed to feed my family? Why do I have to die? What did I do wrong? I loved my job and did it well and it made the world a better place. This is not right!!!"

Glad your job did not humiliate you and destroy your life. Enjoy the dignity of starvation and homelessness. Maybe because you loved your job so much you thought that made you a responsible person and nothing would - or should - happen to you. Obviously, you thought wrong. And now it's time to die - with no recourse.

Why? Because you were silent. You said nothing when others lost their jobs. Your silence condones the killing. When others died you said it was terrible on one hand then said money must decide our lives on the other. Which is it? If money can only be fair and just then its consequences can only be the same. (And if it's not fair and just, why keep it?) You know money worship is a lie but you didn't care as long as you yourself were safe. You took the bribe and called it fine. You pushed your own situation onto others. Just because things are working out for you doesn't give you the right to force your ideas on everybody else. Try having a social conscience!

Who among us calls for change? Or do you say this is the only way even amidst this suffering - and the suffering to come? The silence that saves your job now will be the sword used against you later - and I pity you not. Ours is to question why - and we better do it now before it's too late. You really think you have a choice?

"Whoever tries to keep his life shall lose it,
and whoever loses his life will preserve it."

-Jesus Christ

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Homeless Haiku Valentine

Paradise knocking
Angry soul lets no one touch
Knocks never again

Castle's prison walls
For hiding love, they will scold!
Cuts the ringing phone

Silence drives to street
Broken dreams with beggar's hand
None can love me now

Laughing through his tears
Pathetic desperate clown
Logs onto Salon


Sunday, February 08, 2009

You want sustainability? You can't HANDLE sustainability!

Things will be better after we crucify him!

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."
-Jesus Christ

That Jesus guy, what a moron! Didn't he know that any good socio-economic systems must appeal to human greed in order to be successful? Didn't he have any second thoughts up on that cross, thinking "Hey, it really is dog-eat-dog around here!"? Didn't this unpragmatic dreamer ever realize his words have no real world application?

But do you want to bet your life Jesus was a liar?

Doesn't matter, you already have.

On some level, everyone recognizes that fact and most have joined the AHAF (Assholes Have A Future) theocracy. These evangelical maniacs are everywhere! Their propaganda goes something like this: "We only need to do [simple solution] and all will be fine!" "If we ain't dead now, we ain't ever gonna be!" "I may be an asshole but I'm not really!"

Let's examine that last one. This is from the same people who brought you global warming:

Several hundred thousand child soldiers

World's richest country invades weaker country for oil

Families evicted for failing to please our money god

American Idol (you godless bastards!)

That ain't fog, folks.

I hear God blamed for the state of our planet. They say He either doesn't exist or doesn't care. If that is so, then who do we have left to blame for our condition?


Through my bloodied eyes
I've seen both your life and death;
Don't lie to me now.

Science is the new religion. It is to us what church religion was 1,000 years ago: the vehicle by which all things will be saved (isn't it lovely to think so?). Religion allows us to ignore our sins, pretend we have a future even if we don't and keeps our eye off the ball: to truly save ourselves. There is no scientific (or political or monetary or whatever) solution to our problems, only a moral one. Immorality ruins all in the end.

Some people - poor ignorant bastards that they are - tell me I'm naive and haven't been around the block. That's OK, I understand the need to comfort oneself, to make up myopic utopias (I do it every day while shitting on the toilet). But I am more than willing for history to be my judge. And when that day comes - when the abuse has gone on too long and it's too late for anything - they will not be saying, "Why didn't they listen to Harry Homeless?" But they will be saying, "Why didn't they listen to their conscience?"

Listen, and understand. The truth really is good news:

Saturday, February 07, 2009

An Ancient Smell

I smelled an ancient smell today - and I shivered. Don't know where it came from or what it could have been. But the feeling of sickening dread and chilling fear it engendered in me was a terror I had never felt before. If despair has a smell, then this was it.


Foul stench of battlefield rot
Pukes into my nostril;
The tears of what men have wrought
Makes man so very hostile.

An Ancient Smell is this
Of blackened blood and piss;
With mine own eyes I saw
True reach of the devil's claw.

In the heat of human fury
Lies a baring of the soul;
'Tis insanity to hurry
One's fate to the buried hole.

High crimes and misdemeanors
I made my daily bread;
I tortured all the screamers
And filled the rest with dread.

Hell's child channels his wrath
Staining flowers with bloody bath;
Wallowing in the dreams I spilt,
Thinking of the dead man's guilt.

Running up to mountain streams
To cleanse me of my victims' screams;
The Tree and Rock and Holy River
Give chilling pause to consider.

Fallen soldiers are the leaves,
Disconnected from the trees;
Barren cold, the branches die
Never to feel the living sky.

A thousand lifetimes finally ends
No more chances to make amends;
I spread my arms out to the wind,
Fearing of the times I sinned.

Dreams of loss run down my cheek
Believing in the love I seek;
Time comes for me to die
The apple of no one's eye.

Cry not if I'm ripped asunder,
My heart did surely rape and plunder;
Nature's heaven calls me back
For the breaking of my back.

Ghosts of killings past
Take revenge and hold me fast;
I know this Ancient Smell
Comes to claim my soul for hell.

Everything we are will never die...

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Ode To The Fruity Pebble


Oh, yon Fruity Pebble
Glinting as a Flintsone;
Now the box is empty
And I am left to moan.

And yes it is true
I could go to the store;
But they hiss and sneer,
Call me a Pebble Whore.

Without the holy Pebble
I am just a fraud;
For it's known across the Land
To be the food of God.

"Infidels all!"

Yes, I know there's others -
Cocoa, Flake and Crunch;
But only one is true!
None else shall I munch!

Vicious neighbors come
Peeking through my window;
They see I've lost the touch
When I play Nintendo.

"Oh Dear God, Please help me!"
In my pain I cried.
"Without Your holy food
"I'll be crucified!"

"Corn Flakes are evil!"

"I've been your holy slave!"
"Done nothing that I wanted!"
"And the holy Pebble
"I have always vaunted!"

In this my darkest hour
I heard the call of Raisin Bran;
Thinking in my head,
"I must become a man!"

As my hand reached up
To touch the great unknown;
I knew my holy cover
Was surely to be blown.

"Should I??"

I trembled in my fright,
Knowing what they would say;
"He did love the Pebble
"And now he must pay!"

I stared at the Bran
Just sitting in my bowl;
Knowing I must ingest
If I'm to save my soul.

But then I heard a sound,
A crackling from outside;
My beating heart pounded,
Hoping for my pride.

"God love I!"

"Oh, now I know it's true!
"The true God do love I!"
For all around me fell
Pebble from the sky!

A stripped off all my clothes
And stuffed my holy face;
I've got Pebble religion!
I'm free from all disgrace!

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

What Are My Rights?

Do I have the right to live in a world I can trust?

Do I have the right to walk down the street naked unharmed?

Do I have the right to dream if it makes no money?

Did Jesus have the right not to be crucified?

Did we have the right to invade Iraq?

Did we have the right to FUBAR this planet?*

Does anyone have the right to run another's life?

Does one have the right to self-abuse?

Does a man have the right to live without a woman?
(answer known)

Do I have the right to pervert my art to my own ends?
("May I borrow five pound and two?
"I must pay my debts to Mama Lou.
"If this thing you can do,
"I'll write a lovely poem for you?"

Do I have the right to be free of the supervisor who fears my intelligence?

Do I have the right to avoid good films if they show relationships I can't have?

And most importantly: Do I have the right to eat the goddam Fruity Pebbles bought especially for me because everyone knows those are my favorite but Insomniac Bastard gets up early and devours them all when his favorite is Frosted Flakes and there's plenty of those but noooooooo he has to eat my shit?**

The answer, my friend
Is NOT blowing in the wind.
So ask yourself.


From American Gigolo,
a vastly under-rated psychological film:

Detective Sunday
Doesn't it ever bother you, Julian?

Julian Kaye

Detective Sunday
What you do.

Julian Kaye
Giving pleasure to women?
I'm supposed to feel guilty?

Detective Sunday
But it's not legal.

Julian Kaye
Legal is not always right.
Men make laws.
Sometimes they're wrong.
They're stupid...or jealous.

Detective Sunday
And you know better?

Julian Kaye
Some people are above the law.

Detective Sunday
How do these people know who they are?

Julian Kaye
They know.
They ask themselves.

Footsie notes:

(*This is a question that separates children from adults. Well-fed children will write you lovely, self-serious essays on how great our future will be. We adults know better than to subscribe to such cynicism.

** Yeah, yeah - this is what was really bugging me...)

Monday, February 02, 2009

Jive Talkin'!

This is for all my

jive-talkin' pseudo-intellectual
world-shaking-head-rattlin' too-scared-to-care-sabre-rattlin'
gun-runnin'-self-runnin' never-saw-the-end-comin'
floatin'-on-helium chewin'-on-lithium
story-telling-mind-spelling in-your-ear-yelling
no-dancing no-chancing never-romancing
amazing-all-faux-friends your-putting-on-a-show-friends

Eat it, bitches!