Sunday, September 22, 2013



Observations
·         Ever notice how the sedate sometimes ramp up the physicality of language, maybe to compensate for their sedentary, information-based existence, while those who are as physical and as cowboy as it gets sometimes deliberately downplay such physicality and violence in their language?
Examples:
Doughy white-collar exec: Let's pull the trigger on this thing.
Navy SEAL: Target of opportunity pacified.
·         Sometimes I like to take a moment and appreciate the smaller gifts in life, like when I sit down on a public toilet seat that’s still warm from the ass of another man. (Strange, the meaty silence that pervades a roomful of men in a public lavatory.)
·         Rip Torn: Hollywood’s most self-reinforcing name.
·         There's something of a Faustian bargain about all those Baldwin brothers.
·         I would never name my daughter Eunice Breadsnort. June Jackanapes, however, sounds pretty good.
·         We’re all potential stars of Reader’s Digest “Drama in Real Life.”
·         Ever taken a shit that just didn't smell like one of yours? It's happened to me sometimes, and whenever it does, I feel a curious sense of betrayal, like my bowels are producing imposters.
·         Silencers are the condoms of action films.
·         Eating is just vomiting backwards.
·         You can take the girl out of the shimmy-shammy, but you can't take the shimmy-shammy out  of the girl.
·         And now, as a reward, a smuffy, woofing, three-dog shit.
·         Trader Joe's tonight was a seething cauldron of urbanesque sexual tension. How can the young people even stand it?
·         Reaganomics turned Bill Cosby into a white guy.
·         When I wear a certain pair of pants, my farts smell like American Airline peanuts.
·         Hitler would have liked Ikea, since it posits itself as the “final solution” for interior furnishing.
·         Ever skim over an unfamiliar word while reading, and just assume that was a more familiar, similarly spelled word? I did this other day, with the word balaclava, mentally replacing it with the word baklava. Of course, a sentence about gunmen, their faces covered with baklavas, storming into some hapless guy's room to abduct him, struck me as odd---I imagine there’d be a lot of bumping into one another, into walls, getting stuck in doorways, etc., what with a sticky pastry affixed to one’s face/ It was only this oddness that forced me to go back and actually recognize the word for what it was.
·         Absurdist job title of the week: Nostril Replenishment Technician
·         All this talk of “sticking it to the man.” What of “sticking it in the man?”
·         My big fear is waking up one morning to find myself only capable of speaking Esperanto, rendering me the linguistic equivalent of Gregor Samsa. I guess Esperanto is pretty much the Betamax/new coke of the language community.
·         That one match left in the center of the book looks as if it's giving me the finger.
·         I know I'm 40 because now I just laugh when I see guys under 30 sporting beards.
·         If you name your son Buckminster, you'd better make damn sure he turns out to be a genius.
·         Touch an anarchist you don't know on their genitalia and watch social convention spring back into place.
·         Allowing Diane ("old shakey voice") Rehms to still host a radio program on NPR is the equivalent of allowing a one-legged woman to compete in a bikini contest. (Notice that one of her substitute hosts, the dude, also has a slight speech impediment, somewhat slurring "ch" sounds?  Either way, we have an oddly specific affirmative action at play, or a serious fetish on some producer’s part.)
·         Mosquitoes should be renamed 'drain bugs.'
·         Life is an all-day breath jam.
·         Decapitating a random stranger on a Greyhound bus? True performance art.
·         My dreams? Oh, nothing too fancy, maybe to meet a nice gal, then settle down into a tiny cottage someplace peaceful and serene, say the Reston-Herndon-Dulles Access Road Area. And maybe, come a few good investments or two, maybe get myself a little holiday home on the outskirts of the Katy Freeway-West Houston Energy Corridor.
·         Whatever you may think of me, you can never say I was too proud to soil myself for Christ.
·         What we mean when we talk about sex: Uhhhh! Ohhhgod YesssSSSS!!
·         Violence is not just the purview of the living.

Philosophy in Unexpected Places
·         Ever consider that the original Reece's peanut butter cups commercial ("you got your peanut butter in my chocolate...two great tastes that go great together") is actually a corporate endorsement of the Eastern philosophy of Yin and Yang?
·         And then there's the hopeless, existentialist cycle of Sisyphean futility that engulfs both George Jetson and Fred Flintstone at the end of their respective cartoons, during the credits. George on that endless exercise conveyor belt and Fred forever knocking on the wooden door of his stone house, which the cat has locked him out of. Did the creators of these shows really feel such being and nothingness so acutely?
·         Yin & Yang is when a deodorant dispenser tumbles, capless and headfirst, into a shit-smeared toilet.

A Few Jokes
·         Freaking girl scouts, bowing to political correctness. They've just renamed their Samoan cookies. They're now called Fat Pacific Islanders.
·         When fat people go swimming naked, can we still call it ‘skinny dipping?’
·         Popeye’s last words: “Et tu, Brutus?”

Riddle Me This
·         Q: What do you call an ingénue stricken with consumption?
A: A phlegm fatale.
·         Q: What do you call someone in space reading Sartre?
A: An angstronaut.

New Words
·         Strangerous (adjective)-- to be strange enough to seem possibly dangerous; a "people edge away from you on public transport, at parties, etc." level of oddity

If I Ran the Show
·         I’d institute a new rule- all cafe poets must take boxing lessons before they publish their first chapbook.

Games to Play
Wanna create a moment of cognitive dissonance for the liberal/hippie clientele in the courtyard of your local organic grocery store? Here's what I suggest: drive by real slow in a hybrid Honda, making sure you have an Obama sticker on one side of the bumper and an Apple sticker on the other (and, if in say Asheville, NC or Berkeley, CA, maybe for good measure hang a dream catcher from the rearview mirror). Then as you pass by, toss an empty soymilk carton and maybe a lesbian porno mag out the window in a flagrant display of littering. I can just imagine the cogs at subconscious play in the minds of those who witness it: "there goes one of us, one of our tribe. Safe space. Yet, wait, what...littering? does...not...compute."


Video Games I'd Like to Play

 

·         Microsoft Gynecologist Simulator
·         America's Salvation Army
·         Dress up as Santa and ring a bell for a few hours, complete with simulated rain, snow, and public indifference
·         Nintendo Sadistic Sarge's Pyscho Bootcamp for wii
·         An abusive virtual drill sergeant doles out verbal abuse while bellowing a series of increasingly difficult training commands. Use prestige points to unlock Easter eggs and hidden features like abusive hazing rituals and voiceover taunts. You can beat the game by fragging Sarge with live fire when his back is turned. The deluxe edition would come with a backpack full of rocks for players to carry, the better to simulate those grueling, kit-laden training marches.
·         Chamber Music Hero
·         Choose from an exciting array of classical instruments- viola, violin, cello, etc. Pitch, vibrato, tone, intonation, accents, etc. all modeled in excruciating detail. To make it even more punishing, the designers hired the most gifted professional virtuosos to record the parts, and to appear in game as themselves, where they deliver withering critiques to sloppy players. Nothing screams pressure like not wanting to let Yo Yo Ma or Daniel Barenboim down.
·         Sackbutt Hero
·         Take the most arcane, irrelevant instruments to contemporary culture, and market early music ensembles to 360, PS3, and wii owners. Learn such favorites as "The Dance of the Ill-Fitting Shoe." Comes bundled with Theremin Hero.
·         Kibbutz and Bitch
·         A mediation simulator set on a Jewish kibbutz in Israel. Players assume the roles of various kibbutz dwellers who must overcome an increasingly difficult series of disagreements over farming strategies, chore completions, provision allotment, defense against the Palestinian rocket attacks, etc.

This Is For When
this is for when a pencil prevents a shark attack
this is for when your mom returns from the supermarket with those chocolate chip Doritos you jokingly asked her to buy
this is for when your brother's fist whispers sweet nothings behind the woodshed
this is for when dog-day afternoon turns into cat-dance sunset
this is for when the story of your life fits on the head of a pin, with room to spare
this is for when you forget how to read
this is for when those clowns interrupt the séance
this is for when you find organic pork rinds at your local food co-op
this is for when Iggy Pop graces the cover of Good Housekeeping
this is for when you win a Pulitzer for your poem about mechanically separated chicken parts
this is for when you spot your daughter in an episode of Girls Gone Wild
this is for when the Borders poetry slam gets out of hand
this is for when Hollywood decides to take a year off to rethink its commitment to artistic integrity
this is for when you are reincarnated as a one-armed stripper writhing onstage to "Rosegarden Funeral of Sores"
this is for when you have so many fatal flaws it’s really more of an Achilles’ torso
this is for when you spend a few hundred bucks on braille comic books
this is for when your in-laws turn out to be cooler than your parents
this is for when dictators learn to foxtrot
this is for when honesty is the new black
this is for when a postcard elicits a wet dream
this is for when dream-gang sex children spike your sleep with voodoo
this is for when what's old is new is old again
this is for when a fez factory catches fire
this is for when heaven turns out to be the designated smoking area behind the DQ
this is for when you find a Dilithium crystal in your Crackerjack box
this is for when your brisket takes the catering world by storm
this is for when your fanzine really does stick it to the man
this is for when the magazine racks at the supermarket checkout lane are filled with poetry chapbooks
this is for when all the tea in China couldn't get you to play wii twister with that hulking brute of a babysitter
this is for when the hottest girl in town has a thing for hunchbacks
this is for when the cattle prod replaces the feather
this is for when you sing Sister Ray on the karaoke machine, and everyone wants an encore
this is for when crack dealers start their own quarterly poetry journal
this is for when white indie rockers learn to dance
this is for when everyone's a creator and no one’s a critic

It's Time to Leave the Party

-when the urine stain is visible for all to see, it's time to leave the party
-when your spare clip falls out of your shoulder holster and clatters to the floor, it's time to leave the party
-when they break out the pleasure tester for men (beta), it's time to leave the party
-when you've shat the fondue, it's time to leave the party
-when the hostess notices your swastika tat, it's time to leave the party
-when you realize Twister participation isn't optional, it's time to leave the party
-when the men are wearing clogs, it's time to leave the party
-when you're expected to sing along to Sigur Rios on karaoke, it's time to leave the party
-when someone breaks out the Crisco, to boisterous cheers and applause, it's time to leave the party
-when there's semen on your cravat, it's time to leave the party
-when they bring out the special Kool Aid, it's time to leave the party

The Man Who
...rhymed crimson with jimson
...slipped a $2 bill into my uncle's meaty palm
...danced naked on the fire escape
...got rope burn in the tunnel of love
...became the king of bathos
...sewed a kimono on his commute
...got a boner during an autopsy
...woke up inside his own coffin
...pulled a fast one on the puppetmaster
...vomited forget-me-nots
...named his penis "Christ"
...became tangled up in blue
...fell in love with cursive
...found the cure for ennui
...grew a beard and collected vinyl
...met a body meetin' a body a comin' through the rye
...remained culturally irrelevent
...rigged Sunday night bingo
...named his golden retriever "Throckmorton"
...got mixed up in some bad sock knee jive and late night death jam voodoo

So Many Questions
1.       How do yarmulkes stay on, anyway?
2.       What will happen to the female children of patriarchal-phobic liberals when they marry? Will they end up having three last names? I can just imagine: Ariel Clement-Kendall marries and becomes Ariel Clement-Kendall-Simpson, etc.
3.       How many future musicians are being lost to games like Guitar Hero?
4.       Do you think Isaac Newton fully appreciated the gravity of his situation?
5.       Cooking sausage, onion, garlic, and tomato on an open skillet for breakfast, and it smells like wet dog. Why is that?
6.       Whenever I hear harpsichord playing, why do I think of Lurch? 
7.       Why don't more people shit standing up?
8.       Did Yo Yo Ma ever have to suffer taunts of “Yo Yo Mama!” on the playground?
9.       Sometimes, when machinery and technology fails to work as it should, I take it personally, as if the thing in question failed because it hates me. That's me with a capital m, like it had focused its refusal to comply precisely upon me, its chosen target, with a surgeon's precision. Just tonight, I propped up my bike and locked it to a street sign, and heard it clatter to the ground as I walked away. The helmet dislodged, the glass mirror popped free from its plastic housing. "Fuck you, too" was all I had to say under my breath, as I dismissively continued walking away. Why should one feel a sense of betrayal by inanimate objects?
10.    In a world without Zippo, who supplies the flame?
11.    If they could, would trees extend a grateful branch of thanks to the manmade computer circuit, friends embracing at the crossroads of mimesis?
12.    If elementary school theater teachers ruled the world, would job interviews take the form of free-form interpretive wind dances?
13.    Is it possible, nay desirable, to be hermaphroditically sealed?
14.    When psychiatrists fake each other out in pick-up basketball games, do they say “psych?” in the same way that the rest of us might?
15.    Did Petula Clark ever eat dog food? Did George Peppard ever jump on a trampoline?
(these are the thoughts of today's men, as they shore up the dookeyshines of commerce, culture, and faith)
16.    What is it exactly that makes McCafferty's strong-arm tactic so sublime?
17.    What if Death were sexist?
18.    How many of us don’t know whether it’s “for all intents and purposes” or “for all intensive purposes?”
Movie Scenes in Reality
·         Woman gives birth to child in backseat of car, with only inexperienced teen protagonist there to assist. Woman and baby die in childbirth; teen develops acute PTSD and guilt, and is unable to maintain a successful relationship for the rest of his life.

The X009-11 Bumper Sticker series
·         Don't blame me, I voted for X009-11
·         Impeach X009-11
·         My X009-11 is an honor X009-11 at X009-11 Academy 9ZC-03
·         My X009-11 can beat up your honor X009-11
·         How's X009-ll's driving? Call 1-800-X009-11
·         Virginia is for X009-lls
·         It's an X009-11, not a choice
Book Excerpts
1.       From the Mel Bay Publications Present the "Aaron Shearer 'Let's Get Tendonitis!' Guitar Method Book"
Chapter One:
"...while maintaining a full barre chord on the llth fret, stretch the 4th finger to the high G# (16th fret, 1st sting), and the 3rd finger to the high D (15th fret, 2nd string). The 2nd finger should be executing a rapid series of slurs on the G (15th fret, 6th string). With the right hand, maintain a steady 1st string tremolo (32nds at MM=66) with IMA while playing a rapid series of triple stops with P on the three bass strings. Progress to Exercise Two. Fatigue and pain are to be expected, and should be ignored; for it is only through working through them that your playing mechanism will truly progress.
2.       An excerpt from Albert Camus' unpublished children's manuscript Petite Henri and the Irrepressible Ennui
(Translated by A.H. Houseman)
...The afternoon was a dull, muted grey, punctuated only by the squawks of black birds and rumble of rusted diesels as young Henri pedaled his rusted red bicycle home from school. As his spindly legs worked, he felt once again an inescapable heaviness upon his eyelids, emanating from no discernible source, save the weariness of his own malnourished soul. Yes, he knew nothing but this well-worn desire to close his eyes, for now and for all time, no matter what danger such an action might accord him. How funny it struck him, this supposed choice, when in reality it was no choice at all.
...His chores at school and at home had long become a burden to him, constituting as they did a series of simple, unthinking tasks devoid of any recognizable point. No matter, he tried to fashion a sleep state throughout the waking hours, and to attempt a solace of sorts within the realm of his young, somewhat potent imagination.
...Upon arriving home to his mother's dingy rue Carerr e flat, he heard the familiar clatter of pots and dishes; another tasteless stew or bland soup would soon await him, roughly served up by calloused hands. His mother was a hardened woman of indeterminate age, with tightened skin which stretched resentfully across her cheerless face. *One wrinkle for each angry year, Henri often noted. She was given to violent outbursts of a sort that made young Henri dread the slow, prolonged prospect of growing up. His father was but a dim memory of stained yellow, and tobacco smoke. She never spoke of him, and Henri never cared to seek details.
...Wearily he lay upon his bed. Down below his window from the narrow, unkempt street could be heard the eager shouts and shrill taunts from the neighborhood children as they amused themselves in mindless, simple games. Pierre and Giles from next door would sometimes bully Henri into a game of Pirates, the point of which young Henri could never fathom. His one hope from this morass of boredom and uncertainty lay within a tiny scrapbook of newspaper cuttings he kept beneath his narrow bed.
3.                From the Tough Guy Math instruction book: “X-intercept just beat the crap out of Y-intercept.”
4.       From the Brooklyn Book of Math: Julio sells crack. He sells one vial to Manuel and two vials to Esparanzo.
Esparanzo returns one of the vials, claiming it is whack.
Q: How many bullets do authorities find in Esparanzo's head?
Ideas That Might
·         #42: Braille pornography
·         #16: Narcoleptic Tag Team Wrestling (“Urgh...grunt.. .zzzz”)
·         #31: Carbolic Acid Lip Balm
·         #91: Leona Helmsley '”Touch of Class” underoos/lingerie set (for the aristocratic ‘tween set)
·         #16: Buy the Bitch a Rose: A Flower Shop for Men
·         #12: The Serial Killer spring collection: A line of men's casual clothing named after serial killers
·         the Starkweather spring collection
the Dahmer fall line
Wayne Gacey formal wear
the Bundy beach collection
and have the last names sewn into the left breast...nothing ghoulishly overt, just the names.
·         #30: Start a moving company where all the employees have cerebral palsy. Call it "Movers and Shakers."
·         #98: A line of angry children's clothes: oshkosh, g'dammit!
·         #18: A new kind of candy- Sweet Nothings
·         Open up the wrapper, and there's nothing inside.
Sweet nothings: A new kind of Zen for your taste buds
·         #100: Weaponized farts
·         .50 hollow point diarrheic sniper round
black bean air burst explosive flechhetes
high altitude cabbage windy daisy cutter
MOABM (mother of all bowel movements)
·         #48 Piñatas filled with hornet’s nests (for those children you dislike)
·         #73 Open a retirement home for aging rappers, and call it Ludacris Acres
·         #2 Terminally ill pet sale (Cheap! Fleeting! Get there before the creator can!)
·         #6 Companies rechristened "representative" as "rapresentative" and had that person rap their telephone assistance to customers. Can you imagine trying to understand customer support if the person rapped the instructions? What it lacks in usefulness it makes up for in sass. It's hard not to say "rapresentative" aloud and not crack at least a thin grin. Better yet, try to work it into a conversation with someone as in, "Yeah, I was trying to get help with my Dell 'cuz it keeps crashing, but the rapresentative's patois was so thick that I couldn't understand most of what he said."
·         Britney the elder
Courtney the wise
Kortney the just
Ryder the brave
Bristol the infirm
Jade the vain
In a post-apocalyptic USA, where humanity is reduced to pre-science and nomadic tribalism, would today's golden children age into the sage elder matriarchs and patriarchs of their respective clan?
·         #8 The Aryan Brotherhood or KKK were to produce a comic book, I wonder if the word balloons would have racist terms for sound effects? When the white supremacist hero punches a Jew: "KIKE!" an Italian: "WOP!" a Latino: "SPIC!" a black: "NIG!" an Asian: "CHINK!" etc.

Adventures with Questionable Mixed Drinks 
Akron Sunset
Audit on the Beach
Pocket-Lint Navel
Car Alarm Colonic
Fuzzy Anal

Pineapple Jockstrap
Sand In Crack
Jockstrap Juniper

Ode to Greatness
An awesome, majestic man; the man who authorized the wearing of thong bikinis on prime-time TV. I would like to meet this man, this awesome, majestic man. Where might such a being exist?
Saw Mill Love Song
Plaid-clad loggers practice pirouettes
burly foremen dream a little dream
machine drivers compose sweet nothings
tree choppers pen forget-me-nots
line cooks wait desperately by the phone
branch bailers steal kisses under the old oak tree
loose end OC's feverishly tear open valentines
log pullers caught in mid-swoon
deforestation execs press wild flowers
Emotional Blockage among the Valorous
·         a deep-sea navy SEAL never really learnt how to express himself, couldn't figure out that tricky emotional jam
·         a jet pilot who'd rather egress than work things through
·         a chopper pilot more content to hover away than talk it out
·         a tough-as-nails green beret too scared to flirt
·         a young ne'er do well & an aging fighter pilot: their love, a scorched-earth policy
·         a SWAT captain trapped in hit & run dating
·         a marine felled by the arrow of love



A Few Kinds of Haircuts
·         antigrav locks
·         the 'et tu brute?'
·         the pubic underbrush
·         the Gomer Pyle DIY
·         wigger 'fro
·         Sampson's mane
·         frosty tenured distinction

A Few Ways of Classifying Our Poos
·         brown gold
·         slithering anaconda
·         cranky toad
·         tough ol' buckshot
·         chocolate symphony
·         hard lil’ BBs
·         clingers
·         grendelmeat
·         triple flush slush
·         drooling driblets
·         a formidable loaf
·         violent caffeinated ejections
·         hot on the heels of dinner
·         spiteful malicious demon

Overheard
·         Welcome home son, to a Christmas characterized by an impending orgy of fleshly desire
·         A pox on your wife's Spanish thighs!
·         I'm extraterrestrial in a down-to-earth sort of way
·         I would simply kill for Parsimmon's clarinet technique
·         My ear sore is crusting again
·         Asian children make great pets
·         I drunk dialed my nephew last night
·         Your daughter's charms are easily unearthed by the smooth soothings of an American dollar
·         Whatever cultural insights he may possess are nullified by that obscene halitosis
·         I’m always looking for new ways to improve my signal-to-noise ratio

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