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Saturday, June 20th, 2009
3:59 am - Only hands can wash hands
If you want to receive, you have to give.

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Friday, October 31st, 2008
5:30 am - But, Oh, What a Wonderful Feeling
I hit the ground when I first noticed the man in the leather jacket in front of kimball hall.  I thought I saw a bike whizz by, some student heading back to the dorms probably.  When I peeked again leather jacket was gone.  I began to rise, and realizing I hadn't checked my right, I whipped around and caught the fuzz probing me with his bright blue flashlight.

I hit the ground immediately.  Face down on the graveled roof of the veranda.  Blue light played against the wall above me.  The shadow of the roof gave me little more than a foot of clearance.

"Sir, please stand up immediately and you will be free to go."

Did he really see me?  Does he know I am up here?  Should I stand up, or can I still get away with this?

"Sir, stand up now or you will face severe consequences."

No way can he get to me.   He probably didn't even see me.  Just wait it out, and it might blow over.

I was breathing pretty hard at this point.  My heart thudded through my body like a subwoofer in a cheap sedan.  I didn't want to make any more noise, still hoping they might forget about me.  Then my cell phone went off, and I had to mute it while keeping my self in the safe shadow of the roof.

"If you don't stand up and come down, we will send a dog up after you."

The fact that they would bluff so obviously and stupidly just strengthened my resolve.  No way was I coming down at this point.  I could hear them plotting, but they still hadn't come for me.  If it took waiting all night, I would do it.  I assumed they would never be able to come and get me.

I probably laid there for over half an hour all told.  Of course, I am probably exaggerating.  Regardless,  I was honestly quite shocked to see the officer advancing on me with his flashlight.  It looked like he had his gun drawn though the flashlight made it hard to tell.  It was enough to reveal my yielding nature.

"Show me your hands!  Lie on your belly!  I said get on your stomach!  Now spread your legs!"

"Don't try any funny stuff, there are six guns trained on you right now."

He marched me to the ladder where another officer and a woman in a salmon vest were waiting.  The second my feet touched the ground I was subdued and handcuffed with my face in the mulch.  I had hoped that my complacency might win a little respect, but they jammed my hand in those cuffs without a hint of tenderness.  It made me wonder what had made this man so angry.

I had to sit in the back of a cruiser ("watch your head") while they led the rest of the guys down the ladder, cuffed them, and lined them up against the wall.  There were at least half a dozen cops milling around along with a few janitors.  Lame country music was quietly playing on the radio.  I wished I was with them, instead of alone in a plastic car seat.  I didn't really believe I was going to go to jail until they started writing the others their tickets.  The very fact that I had been separated from them drove home the point that I was the trophy for this hunt.  So I determined I was going to be proud about this, and walk into that cell with my nose in the air.  I was eager for someone talk to me so I could ask them the only question I wanted to ask.

"They'll be cited for trespassing and released."

The officer in charge of me was very terse, and his air of distraction was heightened by ear piece in his left ear.   He led me through some empty gray halls and doors, marked by bold black characters.  Determined not to ask any questions, all I got from him was that I was to be held until tomorrow morning unless someone bailed me out for 50 dollars.

I just resigned myself to the fact that I would be spending the night in jail.  How's a few hours in a cell worth that much money?

I was brought to a high counter manned by a hispanic woman and a younger blonde.  The place was so awfully boring.  The neutral taupe that coated the walls seemed to have infected the staff with a manila despondency.  I felt bad for these women.  I pitied any person who had to steward this drab corner of hell.  They asked me a few questions ("Do you pose any danger to yourself?") and had me breathalyzed (0.0).  I believe it was at this point that the hispanic officer removed my handcuffs and proceeded to pat me down.  Just after she had me remove my belt, I noticed the man in the cell behind me with his face pressed against the window.  He was wearing a padded vest, with his hair up in nappy dreds.  It was a little frightening.  But it wasn't as disturbing as the man pacing in his cell behind the counter wearing nothing but the same padded vest.  They sealed everything I had on me in a little bag, telling me I would get it back on my release.  Before I knew it the paperwork was finished and they threw me in an empty room with nothing but two benches and a steel toilet/sink for company.

I splashed some water on my face and sat back to admire the door.  The gray coating had been carved away by hundreds of inmates.  Everywhere were blood colored scribbles and scratches.  It was easily the most vibrant thing I had seen in this gray labyrinth.  Spanish phrases scrawled over phone numbers.  Pitchforks and a star of david.  Lots of initials.  But the affect was more geological than anthropological.  It looked as if this door had been slowly corroded by years of exposure to the natural forces of caged animals.  It possessed color.  The color of dried blood and rust.

I didn't know if I would get to call anyone.  I was going to ask, but I was still on a stoic bent.  Besides, they all seemed like they wanted out of there more than me, and I wasn't about to rub it in their face that when I left, I didn't have to come back.  Additionally, they never read me my rights or anything, so I assumed the phone call thing was a myth too.  Without much else to do, I lay back on my bench and waited for the morning.

"But, oh, what a wonderful feeling
Just to know that you are near,
Sets my poor heart a-reeling
From my toes up to my ears."

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Friday, October 10th, 2008
5:17 am - Yes, and the Girl from Ipanema
Olha que coisa mais linda, mais cheia de graça
É ela menina que vem que passa num doce balance caminho do mar

Moça do corpo dourado do sol de Ipanema
O seu balançado é mais que um poema
É a coisa mais linda que eu já vi passar

Ah, porque estou tão sozinho?
Ah, porque tudo e tão triste?
Ah, a beleza que existe
A beleza que não é só minha, que também passa sozinha

Ah, se ela soubesse que quando ela passa
O mundo sorrindo se enche de graça
E fica mais lindo por causa do amor *

Tall and tan and young and lovely
the girl from Ipanema goes walking
and when she passes each one she passes goes ah

When she walks she's like a samba
that swings so cool and sways so gently
that when she passes each one she passes goes ah

Oh, but he watches so sadly
How can he tell her he loves her?
Yes, he would give his heart gladly
but each day when she walks to the sea
she looks straight ahead not at he

Tall and tan and young and lovely
the girl from Ipanema goes walking
and when she passes he smiles but she doesn't see

She just doesn't see

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Wednesday, February 20th, 2008
3:58 am - Diner

You might have seen one out in Minnesota
Or maybe down by the sea in Sarasota
But they were made back in Worcester Mass
Of aluminum and bakalite and glass

Like a locomotive they were streamlines
And the blue prints were drawn up from a dream of mine
Slap 'em up put 'em on the train
Out to Michigan up to Maine

You may find a diner down in Georgia or
Carolina off the twenty by the piggly wiggly
In the country out of Waynsboro

Or when it's getting late and rainy out in New York State
You hang a louie off the thru-way
And you go and grab yourself a cheeseburger
At the little gem diner off the six niner

Diner my shiny shiny love
In the night you're all I'm thinking of
Diner my shiny shiny love

The cruiser pulls in where the trooper's always stop
As we dine over the chrome and formica table top

The cashier she always squints
By the gum and the bowl of mints
She's tapping her toe
To the Dean Martin on the consolette
Booth service and a cigarette we're loving it so

Side of fries a dollar
Or the haddock plate two ninety five
A rootbeer float a pepsi
And be sure to save some room for some apple pie
Better make it a-la-mode

Diner my shiny shiny love
In the night you're all I'm thinking of
Diner my shiny shiny love

Dean Martin god rest his soul
Talkin' to me from the cereal bowl
There's a couple from the show me state
Knockin' back a little meatloaf plate

Diner my shiny shiny love.
Diner my shiny shiny love.
Diner my shiny shiny love.

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Thursday, January 12th, 2006
8:02 pm - The Raven
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
" 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
" 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened wide the door;---
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
Lenore?, This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
"Lenore!" Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,
"Surely," said I, "surely, that is something at my window lattice.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
" 'Tis the wind, and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door.
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore.
Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered;
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore,---
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never---nevermore."

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore --
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- by these angels he hath
Sent thee respite---respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, O quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore:
Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me I implore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore---
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting--
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted---nevermore!

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Sunday, December 4th, 2005
4:24 pm - Release part 2
Inner breathlessness, outer restlessness
By the time I caught up to freedom I was out of breath
Grandma asked me what I'm running for
I guess I'm out for the same thing the sun is sunning for
What mothers birth their youngens for
And some say Jesus coming for
For all I know the earth is spinning slow
Suns at half mast 'cause masses ain't aglow
On bended knee, prostrate before an altered tree
I've made the forest suit me
Tables and chairs
Papers and prayers
Matter versus spirit
A metal ladder
A wooden cross
A plastic bottle of water
A mandala encased in glass
A spirit encased in flesh
Sound from shaped hollows
The thickest of mucus released from heightened passion
A man that cries in his sleep
A truth that has gone out of fashion
A mode of expression
A paint splattered wall
A carton of cigarettes
A bouquet of corpses
A dying forest
A nurtured garden
A privatized prison
A candle with a broken wick
A puddle that reflects the sun
A piece of paper with my name on it
I'm surrounded
I surrender
All
All that I am I have been
All I have been has been a long time coming
I am becoming all that I am
The spittle that surrounds the mouth-piece of the flute
Unheard, yet felt
A gathered wetness
A quiet moisture
Sound trapped in a bubble
Released into wind
Wind fellows and land merchants
We are history's detergent
Water soluble, light particles, articles of cleansing breath
Articles amending death
These words are not tools of communication
They are shards of metal
Dropped from eight story windows
They are waterfalls and gas leaks
Aged thoughts rolled in tobacco leaf
The tools of a trade
Barbers barred, barred of barters
Catch phrases and misunderstandings
But they are not what I feel when I am alone
Surrounded by everything and nothing
And there isn't a word or phrase to be caught
A verse to be recited
A man to de-fill my being in those moments
I am blankness, the contained center of an "O"
The pyramidic containment of an "A"
I stand in the middle of all that I have learned
All that I have memorized
All that I've known by heart
Unable to reach any of it
There is no sadness
There is no bliss
It is a forgotten memory
A memorable escape route that only is found by not looking
There, in the spine of the dictionary the words are worthless
They are a mere weight pressing against my thoughtlessness
But then, who else can speak of thoughtlessness with such confidence
Who else has learned to sling these ancient ideas
like dead rats held by their tails
so as not to infect this newly oiled skin
I can think of nothing heavier than an airplane
I can think of no greater conglomerate of steel and metal
I can think of nothing less likely to fly
There are no wings more weighted
I too have felt a heaviness
The stare of man guessing at my being
Yes I am homeless
A homeless man making offerings to the after-future
Sculpting rubber tree forests out of worn tires and shoe soles
A nation unified in exhale
A cloud of smoke
A native pipe ceremony
All the gathered cigarette butts piled in heaps
Snow covered mountains
Lipsticks smeared and shriveled
Offerings to an afterworld
Tattoo guns and plastic wrappers
Broken zippers and dead eyed dolls
It's all overwhelming me, oak and elming me
I have seeded a forest of myself
Little books from tall trees
It matters not what this paper be made of
Give me notebooks made of human flesh
Dried on steel hooks and nooses
Make uses of use, uses of us
It's all overwhelming me, oak and elming me
I have seeded a forest of myself
Little books from tall trees
On bended knee
Prostrate before an altered tree
I've made the forest suit me
Tables and chairs
Papers and prayers
Matter vs. spirit, through meditation
I program my heart to beat breakbeats and hum basslines on exhalation

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Monday, June 27th, 2005
3:58 pm - Game of Death
Bruce Lee was one of the most well-known and skilled martial artists in his day. His flawless technique was second only to his blinding speed. He was so quick he would ask people to place a coin in their palm and then close their hand over the coin. Before they could close their fist, he would already have taken the coin out of their hand.

The sheer devotion to his art that simple, yet astounding, feat demonstrates is beyond comparison. To touch such perfection is another example of the boundless potential of the human race. Yet, I have never seen such devotion for myself, and maybe that is why I don't understand it. If Bruce Lee were still alive, and if I could ask him any one question, I think it'd be: Why?

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Thursday, June 23rd, 2005
5:58 pm - Technologic
Buy it, use it, break it, fix it,
Trash it, change it, melt - upgrade it,
Charge it, pawn it, zoom it, press it,
Snap it, work it, quick - erase it,
Write it, cut it, paste it, save it,
Load it, check it, quick - rewrite it,
Plug it, play it, burn it, rip it,
Drag and drop it, zip - unzip it,
Lock it, fill it, curl it, find it,
View it, coat it, jam - unlock it,
Surf it, scroll it, pose it, click it,
Cross it, crack it, twitch - update it,
Name it, rate it, tune it, print it,
Scan it, send it, fax - rename it,
Touch it, bring it, obey it, watch it,
Turn it, leave it, stop - format it.
Buy it, use it, break it, fix it,
Trash it, change it, melt - upgrade it,
Charge it, pawn it, zoom it, press it,
Snap it, work it, quick - erase it,
Write it, cut it, paste it, save it,
Load it, check it, quick - rewrite it,
Plug it, play it, burn it, rip it,
Drag and drop it, zip - unzip it,
Lock it, fill it, curl it, find it,
View it, coat it, jam - unlock it,
Surf it, scroll it, pose it, click it,
Cross it, crack it, twitch - update it,
Name it, rate it, tune it, print it,
Scan it, send it, fax - rename it
Touch it, bring it, obey it, watch it,
Turn it, leave it, stop - format it.
Buy it, use it, break it, fix it,
Trash it, change it, melt - upgrade it,
Charge it, pawn it, zoom it, press it,
Snap it, work it, quick - erase it,
Write it, cut it, paste it, save it,
Load it, check it, quick - rewrite it,
Plug it, play it, burn it, rip it,
Drag and drop it, zip - unzip it
Touch it, bring it, obey it, watch it,
Turn it, leave it, stop - format it.
Surf it, scroll it, pose it, click it,
Cross it, crack it, twitch - update it,
Lock it, fill it, curl it, find it,
View it, coat it, jam - unlock it,
Buy it, use it, break it, fix it,
Trash it, change it, melt - upgrade it,
Charge it, pawn it, zoom it, press it,
Snap it, work it, quick - erase it,
Write it, cut it, paste it, save it,
Load it, check it, quick - rewrite it,
Surf it, scroll it, pose it, click it,
Cross it, crack it, twitch - update it,
Name it, rate it, tune it, print it,
Scan it, send it, fax - rename it,
Touch it, bring it, obey it, watch it,
Turn it, leave it, stop - format it.
Buy it, use it, break it, fix it,
Trash it, change it, melt - upgrade it,
Charge it, pawn it, zoom it, press it,
Snap it, work it, quick - erase it,
Write it, cut it, paste it, save it,
Load it, check it, quick - rewrite it,
Plug it, play it, burn it, rip it,
Drag and drop it, zip - unzip it,
Surf it, scroll it, pose it, click it,
Cross it, crack it, twitch - update it,
Name it, rate it, tune it, print it,
Scan it, send it, fax - rename it,
Touch it, bring it, obey it, watch it,
Turn it, leave it, stop - format it.
Buy it, use it, break it, fix it,
Trash it, change it, melt - upgrade it,
Charge it, pawn it, zoom it, press it,
Snap it, work it, quick - erase it,
Write it, cut it, paste it, save it,
Load it, check it, quick - rewrite it,
Plug it, play it, burn it, rip it,
Drag and drop it, zip - unzip it,
Lock it, fill it, curl it, find it,
View it, coat it, jam - unlock it,
Surf it, scroll it, pose it, click it,
Cross it, crack it, twitch - update it,
Name it, rate it, tune it, print it,
Scan it, send it, fax - rename it,
Touch it, bring it, obey it, watch it,
Turn it, leave it, stop - format it.

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Thursday, June 9th, 2005
8:11 pm - Big Rock Candy Mountain
One evening as the sun went down and the jungle fire was burning
Down the track came a hobo hiking and he said boys I'm not turning
I'm headin for a land that's far away beside the crystal fountains
So come with me we'll go and see the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains there's a land that's fair and bright
Where the handouts grow on bushes and you sleep out every night
Where the boxcars are all empty and the sun shines every day
On the birds and the bees and the cigarette trees
The lemonade springs where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains all the cops have wooden legs
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth and the hens lay soft boiled eggs
The farmer's trees are full of fruit and the barns are full of hay
Oh, I'm bound to go where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall and the wind don't blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains you never change your socks
And the little streams of alcohol come a-trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats and the railroad bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew and of whiskey too
You can paddle all around 'em in a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains the jails are made of tin
And you can walk right out again as soon as you are in
There ain't no short handled shovels, no axes saws or picks
I'm a goin to stay where you sleep all day
Where they hung the jerk that invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

*whistle*

I'll see you all this coming fall in the Big Rock Candy Mountains

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Monday, June 6th, 2005
10:50 am - The Beat Goes On
Is it not strange how we thrive on routine, yet strive for change?

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Wednesday, June 1st, 2005
4:41 pm - Singularity
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

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Thursday, May 26th, 2005
10:07 am - Zinzindorf
We met upon the field of battle, he the challenger, I the challenged.

At the first shot, my man fell.

I walked into a nearby resturant, sat down and ordered a cup of coffee.

A man came in.

"I just killed a man" says I.

"Killed a man?", says he.

"Killed a man", says I.

"What was his name", says he.

"What was his name?", says I.

"What was his name", says he.

"Zinzindorf", says I

"Zinzindorf?", says he.

"Zinzindorf", says I.

"Spell it", says he.

"Spell it?", says I.

"Spell it", says he.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F", says I.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F?", says he.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F", says I.

"He was my brother, we must fight"

We met upon the field of battle, he the challenger, I the challenged.

At the first shot, my man fell.

I walked into a nearby resturant, sat down and ordered a cup of coffee.

A man came in.

"I just killed a man" says I.

"Killed a man?", says he.

"Killed a man", says I.

"What was his name", says he.

"What was his name?", says I.

"What was his name", says he.

"Zinzindorf", says I

"Zinzindorf?", says he.

"Zinzindorf", says I.

"Spell it", says he.

"Spell it?", says I.

"Spell it", says he.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F", says I.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F?", says he.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F", says I.

"He was my brother, we must fight"

We met upon the field of battle, he the challenger, I the challenged.

At the first shot, my man fell.

I walked into a nearby resturant, sat down and ordered a cup of coffee.

A man came in.

"I just killed a man" says I.

"Killed a man?", says he.

"Killed a man", says I.

"What was his name", says he.

"What was his name?", says I.

"What was his name", says he.

"Zinzindorf", says I

"Zinzindorf?", says he.

"Zinzindorf", says I.

"Spell it", says he.

"Spell it?", says I.

"Spell it", says he.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F", says I.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F?", says he.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F", says I.

"He was my brother, we must fight"

We met upon the field of battle, he the challenger, I the challenged.

At the first shot, my man fell.

I walked into a nearby resturant, sat down and ordered a cup of coffee.

A man came in.

"I just killed a man" says I.

"Killed a man?", says he.

"Killed a man", says I.

"What was his name", says he.

"What was his name?", says I.

"What was his name", says he.

"Zinzindorf", says I

"Zinzindorf?", says he.

"Zinzindorf", says I.

"Spell it", says he.

"Spell it?", says I.

"Spell it", says he.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F", says I.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F?", says he.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F", says I.

"He was my brother, we must fight"

We met upon the field of battle, he the challenger, I the challenged.

At the first shot, my man fell.

I walked into a nearby resturant, sat down and ordered a cup of coffee.

A man came in.

"I just killed a man" says I.

"Killed a man?", says he.

"Killed a man", says I.

"What was his name", says he.

"What was his name?", says I.

"What was his name", says he.

"Zinzindorf", says I

"Zinzindorf?", says he.

"Zinzindorf", says I.

"Spell it", says he.

"Spell it?", says I.

"Spell it", says he.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F", says I.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F?", says he.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F", says I.

"He was my brother, we must fight"

We met upon the field of battle, he the challenger, I the challenged.

At the first shot, my man fell.

I walked into a nearby resturant, sat down and ordered a cup of coffee.

A man came in.

"I just killed a man" says I.

"Killed a man?", says he.

"Killed a man", says I.

"What was his name", says he.

"What was his name?", says I.

"What was his name", says he.

"Zinzindorf", says I

"Zinzindorf?", says he.

"Zinzindorf", says I.

"Spell it", says he.

"Spell it?", says I.

"Spell it", says he.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F", says I.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F?", says he.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F", says I.

"He was my brother, we must fight"

We met upon the field of battle, he the challenger, I the challenged.

At the first shot, my man fell.

I walked into a nearby resturant, sat down and ordered a cup of coffee.

A man came in.

"I just killed a man" says I.

"Killed a man?", says he.

"Killed a man", says I.

"What was his name", says he.

"What was his name?", says I.

"What was his name", says he.

"Zinzindorf", says I

"Zinzindorf?", says he.

"Zinzindorf", says I.

"Spell it", says he.

"Spell it?", says I.

"Spell it", says he.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F", says I.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F?", says he.

"Z-I-N-Z-I-N-D-O-R-F", says I.

"He was my brother, we must fight"

We met upon the field of battle...

(2 comments | comment on this)

Tuesday, May 24th, 2005
6:00 pm - It Would Be Easier If I Was God
Today was my last full day of class for the rest of the year.

I napped from 12:40 to 1:30, from 3:30 to 4:30, and from 4:45 to 5:20.

I had a lot of strange dreams in that time. One involved me finding 15 bucks, so when I woke up, I was very disappointed. I had another dream in an auditorium that ended, and went right back through the same dream, with minor variations. Most of it involved getting up on stage and dancing, but in the second one, I think I got naked. It was a lot of fun.

It is utterly glorious outside. I feel like I should be taking advantage of that. I'm really bored. At this rate, summer will blow.

Prom was really disappointing. I wasn't expecting much, and I got even less, but isn't it supposed to be some sort of milestone in our experience.

I don't think I should be writing anymore. I've been so disappointed lately. Moreover, I feel I have been disappointing.

Sic transit gloria.

Glory fades.

I think I'm going to run away to California this summer.

(1 comment | comment on this)

Saturday, May 21st, 2005
7:10 pm - New Slang
Gold teeth and a curse for this town were all in my mouth.
Only, i don't know how they got out, dear.
Turn me back into the pet that i was when we met.
I was happier then with no mind-set.

And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, i'd 'a jumped from my tree
And i'd a danced like the king of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

New slang when you notice the stripes, the dirt in your fries.
Hope it's right when you die, old and bony.
Dawn breaks like a bull through the hall,
Never should have called
But my head's to the wall and i'm lonely.

And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, i'd 'a jumped from my tree
And i'd a danced like the kind of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

God speed all the bakers at dawn may they all cut their thumbs,
And bleed into their buns 'till they melt away.

I'm looking in on the good life i might be doomed never to find.
Without a trust or flaming fields am i too dumb to refine?
And if you'd 'a took to me like
Well i'd a danced like the queen of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

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Friday, May 20th, 2005
12:45 am - I Have A Bad Feeling About This...
Star Wars, since its premiere on May 25, 1977, has been a cultural phenomenon. The cult following of the original trilogy spawned countless books, cartoons, comics, videos, conventions, games, and an incalculable amount of merchandise. Star Wars, for lo these 28 years, has been the center of a subculture, and a force in western culture. The original trilogy had, at its core, simple, archetypal, primordial themes that resonated with the deep cultural roots of a vast number of Americans. Beyond the flashy (for the time) special effects and the spectacle of futuristic technology and society were the deep conflicts between animal passions and conscientious judgement. The dark father figure of Darth Vader is a powerful symbol for human's dark past. Especially with memories of the Vietnam War fresh in people's minds, people hungered to see a triumph of human conscience over our darker emotions. Star Wars was the legend for its time, an anchor for a confused generation. Its enormous profits were indicative of its emotional and cultural appeal. Its profits also prompted George Lucas to rehash the old story 22 years after the initial release. In 1999, Episode I: The Phantom Menace sought to recapture the hearts and minds of Americans, as well as their bulging wallets. The film was a spectacular box office success, and a dismal critical failure. George Lucas had always been obsessive about Star Wars, remaking his original trilogy twice before the prequel trilogy was finished. His obsession to perfect and complete his saga greatly clouded his judgement. His two other movies, released in 2002 and 2005, also failed to capture the essence of his first saga. Despite the astounding imagery and stunning battle sequences, Lucas had forgotten about the simplistic yet powerful conflict that drove his first movies. Perhaps it was Lucas's obsession with the presentation of his story, or the fact that he got caught up with an exaggeratedly grand story, but Lucas had always been good at expressing the feel for American culture. While the original trilogy was the perfect media for a society that craved moral justification, his latest saga was again an astounding reflection of American culture. The economic prosperity of the 90's rode along a strong cultural wave. With the end of the hollow 80's, the generation of the 90's was not only more cynical, but far more fragmented. With the explosion in technology and the birth of the internet, Americans gave themselves up to a directionless revolution. A sort of self-indulgent hedonism spawned, now allowed to flourish to unprecedented heights. People could carve out their own world in the infinity of the internet, and it was there many Americans escaped. The Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones, and Revenge of the Sith devote themselves to the escapist power of technology, with their unparalleled use of computer animation. This seems to be the only true purpose to the directionless three films, whose weak and inconsistent cast of characters did little in the way of developing a plot in the quagmire of ridiculous monologues discussing the Force and galactic politics. The only character focus seems to be Anakin Skywalker, the man who would become Darth Vader. Through his attempt to set up episodes 4,5, and 6, and to humanize Darth Vader, Lucas seems to have sabotaged the romance and strength of the original trilogy. His character focus on Anakin tires to convey the inner conflicts of a troubled man. Deep conflicts that inevitably seem shallow. We all know the fate of Anakin, and thus his conflict is not really a conflict, since the victory is already decided. The young, arrogant, shallowly conflicted Anakin is a true metaphor for our current society. His seemingly limitless potential lends to him a bravado, an arrogance, that is merely shielding a frightened child from a twisted world. We know where he is headed from the beginning, and thus we know where we are going too. After a bloody century of catastrophes, and millenia of falling empires, Americans have unwittingly resigned themselves to their inevitable fall from grace. The conflict between restraint and indulgence has already been won, though it has yet to be fought. The ominous and labored breath of Vader, a powerful figure of darkness and technology, serves to remind us that this man was doomed from the start. We must remind ourselves that this isn't the end, a new hope will arise, and purpose will return to us once more.

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Monday, May 16th, 2005
10:12 am - Instant Pleasure
All I ask for is...

All I need is...

All I get is...

(1 comment | comment on this)

Tuesday, May 10th, 2005
5:25 pm - Creationivityless
I'm bored.

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Sunday, May 8th, 2005
2:20 pm - Winds of Change
Ahhhhhh.

The truth can be refreshing sometimes.

So can a soft spring breeze.

(1 comment | comment on this)

Thursday, May 5th, 2005
11:29 pm - A White Man Set Them Free
http://www.cycnet.com/englishcorner/background/snapshot/rising/003.jpg

http://www.hippy.com/trip/birmingham63.jpg

http://msnbcmedia.msn.com/j/msnbc/Components/Photos/050116/050116_civilrights_hmed_1230.hmedium.jpg

http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/m_r/randall/bombing/damage.gif

http://www.theblackmarket.com/ProfilesInBlack/lynching.GIF

http://www.ferris.edu/news/jimcrow/question/burn2.jpg

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Monday, May 2nd, 2005
10:53 pm - Happiness is a Warm Gun
I had a dream, though it feels more like a memory. There were people dancing all around me, ever so slowly. They all oscillated back and forth in small, slow arcs. Everybody had their forearms perpendicular to their bodies, and their index fingers extended. And The Beatles' "Happiness is a Warm Gun" was playing on a stereo or jukebox. All the people were singing along, saying "happiness is a warm gun feeling" over and over again. That's all I could think about during French today.

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