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Vote for Dr. Ron Paul President '08 [22 May 2007|04:23pm]

What you at dawg.

I'm just going to post something because of how serious the whole Democran Republicrat SNAFU has grown and for whoever may still have me on their listy.

Internet. Serious business.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ljMp-3b3Xlg Penn Gillette
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aewpvcxAwTk Dr. Ron Paul

This a good one:

"He has never voted to raise taxes. He has never voted for an unbalanced budget. He has never voted to raise congressional pay. He has never taken a government-paid junket. He voted against the PATRIOT Act. He voted against regulating the internet. He voted against the Iraq war. He has never voted for a federal restriction on gun ownership. He has never voted to increase the power of the executive branch."

There are two types of people in this world!

1.) People who care and do something about it!
2.) And people who don't care that aren't really people

I am in fact the latter.

Well enough of that then.

I have been spending a lot of time browsing eBay lately, getting back into comic books. I got several issues of the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle comics by Eastman and Laird and published by Mirage, which features some pretty intense and more than likely drug influenced art and storylines. I also got some campy Jack Kirby books from 1976 based (extremely loosely) on 2001: A Space Odyssey. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2001:_A_Space_Odyssey_%28comics%29 Yesterday I received two Joanna Newsom CD's and a Rush remaster, Permanent Waves. I need to listen to more of that era of the band because in the past I've but listened to Hemispheres repeatedly. As for Joanna, I absolutely freakin' adore Joanna, especially after the two shows I saw last year. The Joanna Newsom & the Ys Street Band EP has only three songs but still manages 24 minutes. It is nice to have a CD with her touring band, which was a really awesome set when I saw them at Toad's Place. They have a glockenspiel, tambura, guitar, banjo, drums, accordion, and band saw. The album art is really pretty as well. I want to get it on LP and hang it up on my wall. The only thing is, it seems like sort of a poor recording when I put it on my good stereo but I don't really care.
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live while the whole world dies [28 Jun 2006|03:56pm]
[ mood | drunk ]

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[11 Jan 2006|11:30pm]
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it may be abnormal, with drama it's rife, but nevertheless I confess I love my wife [25 Nov 2005|10:03pm]
[ mood | recumbent ]

^^I wish I were as recumbent as this guy

Post anonymously!
1. One secret.
2. One compliment.
3. One non-compliment, criticism, or insult.
4. One love note, but it does not have to be for me.
5. Lyrics to your favorite song.
6. How old you are.
7. How long we've been friends.
8. And a hint to who you are.
9. After you do it for me, put it in your LJ and see who does it for you.

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I wanna thank you [24 Nov 2005|12:08pm]
[ mood | thankful ]

For John Dillinger
In hope he is still alive
Thanksgiving Day, November 28, 1986

Thanks for the wild turkey and the Passenger Pigeons, destined to be shit out through wholesome American guts

thanks for a Continent to despoil and poison —

thanks for Indians to provide a modicum of challenge and danger —

thanks for vast herds of bison to kill and skin, leaving the carcass to rot —

thanks for bounties on wolves and coyotes —

thanks for the AMERICAN DREAM to vulgarize and falsify until the bare lies shine through —

thanks for the KKK, for nigger-killing lawmen feeling their notches, for decent church-going women with their mean, pinched, bitter, evil faces —

thanks for "Kill a Queer for Christ" stickers —

thanks for laboratory AIDS —

thanks for Prohibition and the War Against Drugs —

thanks for a country where nobody is allowed to mind his own business —

thanks for a nation of finks — yes, thanks for all the memories... all right, let's see your arms... you always were a headache and you always were a bore —

thanks for the last and greatest betrayal of the last and greatest of human dreams.

-William S. Burroughs

Link to video.

Link to boingboing.

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i'm just an effigy to be disgraced to be defaced your need for me has been replaced [28 Sep 2005|02:16am]
[ mood | high ]

"The sinister fact about literary censorship in England is that it is largely voluntary... It is not exactly forbidden to say this, that or the other, but it is 'not done' to say it, just as in mid-Victorian times it was 'not done' to mention trousers in the presence of a lady." - George Orwell in a proposed preface to Animal Farm

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fuck tha police comin straight from tha underground [21 Sep 2005|04:14pm]
[ mood | chipper ]

Yesterday I went to DC with ConnPIRG because Rosie invited me the night before. We left at 4:00 AM, got there around 11:00. There was a rally with about 5,000 people (I think), which is not that much but it was pretty good.
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Rob Kennedy, Jr. was speaking when we got there. After Joe Lieberman and a few others, John Kerry came on. This was all about the proposal to open up an Arctic refuge for oil drilling, which would be gay. Kerry was great, I got some pictures.
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His speaking style was just like the debates last year: facts, numbers, names, everything totally up-front. Why the hell isn't he president? Hillary Clinton came on as well, but Rosie and I left after Kerry. Hillary sucks. She spoke out against the National ID act... after she voted for it without debate.

We wandered over to Union Station for no reason, then back up to the Botanical Gardens. That was really cool, they had the same trees with giant leaves (bigger than a person) as last time I went (<3 Bicen) and we went up to the canopy catwalk. The meditation garden was nice too. Note: Do not touch the venus flytraps.
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They had an Angel's Trumpet shrub as well! I was almost tempted to just grab a flower and eat it, but then, that would be a pretty good way to ruin my life (which is not exactly on steady ground at the moment).

Especially since after that, we went to meet representative Rob Simmons in his office at 4:00. We talked to him for a good long time (we had a group of about 25 UConn students and some random hippie lady who followed us from Capitol Hill) about energy and change.
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He's a Republican, but he might be as cool as John McCain, as he has voted against Arctic drilling consistently and assured us he would not let up now. We were under the impression that he was an important swing vote because of the pork barrel that the Arctic drilling language was buried in. Bush thought his goons could sneak it into a must-pass budget bill, the same way the National ID act was snook into a tsunami relief bill, so that anyone who voted against the socialist-fascist federal ID card would be labeled anti-charity.

So, I'm not sure we accomplished anything by our meeting, but at the same time we were victorious. And we found out where he stands, that is important. I need to get to work on applying early-decision (due next month) for a Washington internship. I really like that town. The people are so damned nice! Some guy overheard us talking about finding a place to eat, and directed us to the Longworth House office building across the street, which had a decent cafeteria in the basement. That never would have happened in NYC, though on the other hand we would never be looking far for a place to eat in NYC.

Monday was Constitution day here (even though it was signed 17 September 1787) and we had several speakers at the Dodd Center. I slept through most of it, but I tried to stay awake. The last event was an open discussion panel on property rights with Daniel Krisch, one of the lawyers who argued and unfortunately won the New London takings case. I didn't get any notes from that one. The lecture at 1:00 was interesting, I was awake for an explanation of different kinds of Republicans - originalists, traditionalists, deferential. John Roberts is the latter type, which basically means he's shifty.

On Saturday I went to Newport with Summer and Rob and Hopeful and those people. I was worried we would go on bus tours and see mansions and awful tourist stuff like that, but instead we gazed at a school of minnows, went to a restaurant with purportedly the best fried clam strips in town (none of us tried them), got some wine, and wandered around town drunk. Which is what every tourist should do, anywhere. The best part was when we went to this huge park with Romanesque marble-and bronze architecture, sculpted hedges, and fountains aplenty.
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We found a grove of huge birch trees with the foliage hanging down to the ground. We climbed up (I got the second highest, after Aaron) and drank Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand. It was tangy and good. I had some Wild Turkey liqueur with honey in it, too. Then I fell out of the tree, that was awesome.
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Life has mostly been good since last I updated. Except for that one thing.

Pictures are forthcoming.

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please don't let it rain on me cause i ain't got no shelter from this storm [07 Sep 2005|09:37pm]
[ mood | drunk ]

Olaf: Put yourself in a National Guardsmen's place. You see some white people gathering beer, and some black people looting bread. Who are you going to point your gun at?
Anon: Well, obviously. (lowered voice) Those people are notorious for crime! </voice> Statistics and research show it.

Anon: I don't understand why hurricanes can't happen in the Middle East. Why does it have to happen to the good people of Louisiana?

And now Hannity & Colmes is on. Bliss.

So I finished V. I read about 150 pages of it when I was in New York. I love that the first mention of pot in the book came when I was stoned in Central Park. Now I'm in school, and I'm reading the Upanishads, the Dhammapada, Locke's Second Treatise on Gubmint, and some crap about politics in Europe.

For fun, I'm reading Founding Brothers by Joseph Ellis. Each chapter expounds on an incident such as Burr and Hamilton's "interview" from a personal perspective. I bet Sully has already read it, but maybe I'll give it to him sometime.

Intermediate German I, Non-Western and Comparative Philosophy, Philosophy and Gender, Political Institutions and Behavior in Western Europe, and Public Administration. My German teacher is one hot, aryan Fräulein. It's my first time in a language class where Englisch ist verboten, and I think I am handling it reasonably well so far. I can't really compose sentences that don't sound like they come from a retarded German kid, but I can sort of understand what Lili is talking about. We haven't hardly talked about gender in P & G yet but it is cool. We're reading the Communist Manifesto (UGH!) and John Locke (YAY) for that class. I remember some ultra-conservative list of the most harmful books ever published, and the Communist Manifesto was #1. I thought that was absurd at the time, but sitting here reading Locke and thinking about the Enlightenment and the course of history, yeah... Communism is a big step backwards which is still too strong an influence on the world. We're reading Animal Farm for PA, which I have read before (naturally) but I am taking this opportunity to pick up Ralph Steadman's illustrated version.
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My PA professor is cool, we basically are just talking about the hurricane, since it's a particularly salient issue, and that's great because it's the only class I have this semester where we get that kind of open current events discussion.

So now they're showing dogs being rescued on Fox News. This is why Fox is allowed past the guards, and other people with press passes aren't. My roommate says it brings a tear to his eye. It brings a tear to my eye that he's eating up that sentimental bullshit. So far, the best commentary I have seen on Katrina is www.somethingawful.com . I hope I'm not some sort of SA fanboy, but Lowtax fucking knows the score. I am ashamed of my country's government in a universal way right now. Republicans, democrats, opportunists, it doesn't matter; they're all guilty in this situation. In a magical world where justice is actually served most of these people would not have jobs in a month or two. Instead the people without jobs will be the millions who have lost everything and found their government with its back turned. Remember that people are still dying because of this incompetence. Remember that when each and every one of these fools appears on TV for a photo op or complains about "placing blame later," because placing blame now is the only hope America has to change the situation.



And I'm pissed about the Paypal thing (they prevented SA from donating money for Katrina relief, after they raised $30,000 in <9 hours), yet I'm still using it because there's no alternative for buying Hunter S. Thompson shwag on eBay and strange drugs from Canada. Which is really another reason not to use their service. Quite a Catch-22.

Oh yeah, and I can't go back to work at the library because this year I don't have work study as part of my financial aid, due to bad luck and my junior status apparently. Judy says it happens every year, once kids have learned the job and can move up in it, they are stolen away. I'm going to miss working there and having Judy for a boss. She was about the coolest person who has ever told me what to do. She was totally understanding when I came in drunk and high, because I got the job done, she was cool to talk politics with, and she was amused by the weird articles I came across, especially those wacky, musty pre-1960 journals from the basement.

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Guess which one of us was being sarcastic and which didn't quite get it [01 Sep 2005|06:03pm]
Mike: "I bet this is the easiest time for Mexicans to skip the border, with all our resources concentrated on New Orleans."

Olaf: "Yes, that was the first thing I worried about."

Mike: "I know! I'm really worried about that border."
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This ignorant Indian's got nothin' on me WHY cause it's evolution, baby [22 Aug 2005|08:17pm]
[ mood | drunk ]

Something I forgot to mention when I was in NYC. I gave a clove to a shirtless, homeless guy on a corner near Starbucks. He said man, "Sometimes a cigarette's better than money."

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some people want to use you, some people want to be used by you [14 Aug 2005|02:27pm]
[ mood | happy ]

Yesterday I went to the city with Kristi and Diesel. We got lost and drunk and it was the most fun I've had this summer. She won tickets to a comedy club, which turned out to be a good show. There were five acts, the first two were just ok (women being obnoxious and horny). The third guy was late coming out, and I said "probably finishing up some lines" and I sure was right. He was wiping his nose and even made a few jokes about coke. He was either my favorite of the night or second favorite. Next was an old, self-deprecating Jewish guy. "As I like to put it, my first wife died and my second wife wouldn't." He was my other favorite. Then there was a black guy and maybe another act before him, but I was a little tight at this point so I don't remember clearly.

Afterward, we stumbled around for a while and took a taxi to Utsav, the lovely red place I went to last summer. But, they were closed for a private party and some helpful Hindu loiterers directed us to another place a few blocks away called Shaan. It was blue and white, and had a different atmosphere than Utsav but equally classy. And they had a sitar player. We got there with only 15 minutes til the kitchen closed, so actually the atmosphere was a little off because we were practically the last people left at the end of the night. The food was blissful, we got samosas and fried spinach, Kristi had potatoes and eggplant, and I had shrimp in coconut sauce with curry leaves. Because I am in love with the coconut. It made me close my eyes and sway back and forth and I approached some kind of nirvana comprised from spicy food and sitar music and intoxication.

We didn't find time for much shopping, but I saw a brilliant Hawaiian shirt in a shop window at the start of our adventure which I think is the best addition to my collection so far:
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One embarrassing, and now I discover mildly tragic thing happened as a result of my boozing. At the end of the night in the restaurant, after I spiked my water, I left the cap on my water bottle undone and it soaked my bag. Luckily it didn't fuck up my camera, I would have cried. I thought the worst thing was that I reeked of rubbing alcohol the rest of the night, and that an indiscriminate cigarette butt might have set me on fire, but it turns out it washed away the ink in my notebook that I've been keeping for a year or so. Kristi got to read it earlier in the day, so at least I shared it with someone. And now it's more abstract, with dangling sentences and eroded paragraphs. And it can be looked at in a sort of poignant light, I suppose, what with all things being transient etc. Kristi's aversion to being photographed makes me think of that, too. And Gendou Ikari:

Shinji: "My mother is resting here? I don't really believe that. I don't even remember her face."
Gendou: "Man survives by forgetting his memories, but there are some things a man should never forget. Yui taught me about the irreplaceable things. I come here to confirm that."
S: "You have no pictures of her?"
G: "There are none. This grave is just a decoration too. There's no corpse."
S: "So, my teacher was right. You threw them away."
G: "I keep everything in my heart. That is enough."

Thank you again for inviting me, Kristi. You are beloved.

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when you sweat, your sweat is salty, and I am why [12 Aug 2005|07:42pm]
[ mood | bored ]

I've taken to eating the pumpkin seeds whole instead of shelling them á la sunflower seeds. Laziness spoils the fun yet again.

This one's for you, Umi. (Do you realize that I haven't seen you once since you got back?)

What's there to write about when all I do is go to work, come home, read the SA forums (mostly D & D and The Crackhead Clubhouse, with some Pet Island thrown in), read my book not nearly as much as I should, and fall asleep around 9:00 PM? On Wednesday I went to the dentist, which I have always liked. I told about the concept of a psychodontist from V. but conversation is hard when your mouth is full of picks and things. Oh, and my teeth are doing great. I don't floss much, but since quitting tobacco in March my gums have no problems. Apparently my front teeth are being worn because of my overbite, but it is not a big deal nor through any fault of mine, not even subliminal grinding (which I have had warnings about in the past). If it were something preventable, I'd feel guilty. The dentist has tremendous power to cause guilt, even if it does subside a few days after the visit. I think I have something akin to the weird relationships people can develop with their psychotherapists, etc. They are in a position of accredited intellectual authority, and their job is to tell me what I'm doing wrong. If I were more talkative there, I would probably tell them more than I tell any of you.

After that I had an early dinner with my grandma at Applebee's. I like some of the food there, but overall it's a glorified fast food chain. Unfortunately, we can't afford someplace fancy and my grandma won't tolerate most ethnic food. That's just her way. We're hicks.

Somebody posted Frank Zappa's entire discography, which is wonderful. I've always wanted to hear his more serious, instrumental compositions, although Freak Out! and Apostrophe' may remain my favorites. A little while ago, I saw a video of Zappa on Crossfire circa 1986 and again in '87, after he testified before the Senate committee on Commerce, Technology, and Transportation. The '86 one is here. Being Crossfire, there wasn't much room for reasonable responses (so he just kept his mouth shut and looked at John Lofton and Bob Novak like they were the biggest morons ever, which they did a great job of portraying themselves as) but he got in a few good sound bytes:

"There are more songs about love than anything else. If songs could make you do something we'd all love one another."

"The biggest threat to America is not communism, it is moving America towards a fascist theocracy and everything the Reagan administration has been doing is steering us right down that pipe." ...(Bickering, strange smug mumblings)... Moderate host: "Give one example of a fascist theocracy [in America]." "When you have a government that prefers a certain moral code derived from a certain religion and that moral code turns into legislation to suit one certain religious point of view."

The best part is probably near the end, when he really pwnz Novak regarding the Freedom Village.

Now that our "discussion" (I use the term loosely) of Ayn Rand has trailed off, my dad has been giving me brief, loud sound bytes about the '60's. His thesis is that cocaine is responsible for the co-opting of 60's culture by hippie-cum-yuppies. Makes some sense to me. As Zappa put it, "Speed: it will turn you into your parents." He says the most revolutionary people he knew were a couple of Trotskyites, who became born-again Christians. So, it was a fantastic time to live in, but the 36 years since it ended have been one big come-down. Their movement failed, but what does my generation have? According to my dad, the final collapse of America. I said, at least it will be something to write about (not that the '60's weren't).

I wish I were a polymath. Instead I am... a zeromath. Zero for short.

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God forgive me, but an old person without money is pathetic [08 Aug 2005|05:59pm]
[ mood | drunk ]

Quel dommage! I used to like him when I had to watch him for Mr. Blanc's class. I was not aware of his smoking habits. I guess it's not a big deal until it makes you die. Former Surgeon General C. Everett Koop stated that 90% of smoking related cancer was due to the radioactivity of tobacco, and not inhalation of tar. Government-mandated tobacco fertilizer contains Polonium, of a short half-life which breaks down into lead.

On an unrelated note, "Nixon's spirit will be with us for the rest of our lives, whether you're me, or Bill Clinton, or you, or Kurt Cobain, or Bishop Tutu, or Keith Richards, or Amy Fisher, or Boris Yeltsin's daughter, or her fiancée's sixteen-year-old beer-drunk brother with his braided goatee and his whole life like a thunder cloud out in front of him. This is not a generational thing. You don't even have to know who Richard Nixon was to be a victim of his ugly Nazi experiments. He has poisoned our water forever. Nixon will be remembered as a classic case of a smart man shitting in his own nest. But he also shit in our nest. And that was a crime that history will burn on his memory as a brand. By disgracing and degrading the Presidency of the United States, by fleeing the White House like a diseased cur, Richard Nixon broke the heart of the American Dream."

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the search for a missing link [08 Aug 2005|10:26am]
[ mood | bored ]

Metaphidippus Sp.

Johnus Boltonensis.

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[07 Aug 2005|06:16pm]
[ mood | drunk ]


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dreaming of that face again it's bright and blue and shimmering, grinning wide and [05 Aug 2005|04:19pm]
[ mood | bored ]

comforting me with its three warm and wild eyes

Sarah's comment touched on an important enough subject to write an entry rather than leave my response in the comments section.

Always worse? I beg to differ. I don't think you mean like with heroin or meth or crack, where nothing can compare to the high once you've attained it. Normal life can seem boring compared to tripping, but it's not like that, or else it would be addictive. I suppose one way it can turn your world-view negative is to make you more cynical. Psychedelia opens some peoples' eyes to the way the authorities deceive you with their view of reality, like Bill Hicks and Tim Leary talk about. But I grew up in a cynical household (largely due to LSD's effect on my family), so it didn't change anything in that respect for me. For a lot of people, it opens up a new world of love and compassion through the experience of oneness... but I don't believe in collectivism, I've felt it on mushrooms but I think the feeling means something less than obvious. No, the insights I've gained through psychedelic exploration have largely been in a Nietzschean jenseits von Gut und Böse vein. The most easily verbalized one being that objective reality exists in another dimension which humans imperfectly perceive, but we are better at perception than any other known organism. Of course, that's something I had thought of before drugs (B.D.) but mushrooms were a bit like a confirmation of a hypothesis. Always worse? If each trip made me more depressed, I would not be looking forward to the next one, indeed there would be no next one.

One thing I really like about how I look at the world A.D. is trying to picture what I might be seeing if I were tripping right now. I can't vividly imagine really strong hallucinations or time contraction/dilation/cycles, but I can sometimes make my skin swim around or make checkered tile dip and swell.

While we're on the subject, I had a dream last night in which I have some acid. In fact I have a whole sheet of blotter paper in my pocket, it is orange with a little green on each tab. I take two hits and suddenly my environment enters the spin cycle. I am outside the high school, many people are there, it is some sort of graduation celebration. Where the football field normally is, is the ocean, and the Arc de Triomphe is in the ocean. I am assaulted by visions of architecture, flying buttresses literally flying, a barn in a field. I am aware of being in the middle of a crowd and try to act normal but lose inhibition. Ms. Bastien comes to wish me good luck in the future, I attempt to say something coherent and fail miserably. More swirling visions of architecture, and this is interesting: memories of long past dreams. Italian villas that were my home in slumber three or four years ago, the post-modern library in the middle of central park, a covered bridge on land, more that was obscured upon waking. I go inside, take an elevator several (dozen?) floors down to some brightly lit tunnels, which lead to a dorm room (known by me to be mine, but it is not reminiscent of any that I've occupied in real life) and some of my friends, including Derek and Craig if I recall correctly. Being that I have so much LSD, I give a couple hits to each and wake up to my 4:30 AM alarm. I should note that I have not yet had the opportunity to visit Uncle Cid in real life.

With some drugs, cessation of habitual use leads to horrible withdrawal symptoms: death (in the case of alcohol and benzodiazepines), DTs, scary bad hallucinations, constant vomiting, pains throughout the body, sweating, coughing up black, bloody phlegm, or at the very least irritability. When you smoke marijuana a lot and then stop entirely, the only recognized withdrawal symptom is a dramatic increase in the vividness and number of individual dreams. This has persisted in my case for three months so far, even with a few (two early, one recent) smoking sessions. This is known as REM rebound, and I love it. It is not simply a return to normal after marijuana caused me to have little to no dreams for a year, it is a step above baseline as I recall it. I hope I can strike a balance between use and abstinence to effect dream optimization.

I need to get out more help!!!

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You are art and art will never change. [04 Aug 2005|07:41pm]
[ mood | bored ]

One neat thing about my job is watching the sunrise every morning. That has never been a part of my schedule before, save the depths of winter waiting on the school bus. It is about the only time I appreciate the view afforded by the golf course without thinking how much better it would be as untouched woods. An orange, pink lick of beauty is a better start than my old coffee habit, an apology for closing my dreams.

I had a dream a few nights ago which I shall here recall. I am with Caroline in a flower shop/café. There are some weedy bushes on which green, stringy candy grows, and it is some darn good candy. The taste is somewhere between the sweetness of a fruit and a vegetable crispness... perhaps like a birch or sassafras shoot, crossed with licorice. They also have barrels of jelly beans, only they are natural beans and come in black tea or green tea flavors only. That's about all the dream was about, but it was really cool. There was another part in which I am in my kitchen with her and some other guys, and we have balloons filled with alcohol vapor (of course she does not partake, even in dreamland). The balloon only gets me drunk for about two minutes, but it is a rush. My drunken self makes her giggle (unlike real life).

I'm a pretty slow reader, I'll confess.

"Perhaps history this century, thought Eigenvalue, is rippled with gathers in its fabric such that if we are situated, as Stencil seemed to be, at the bottom of a fold, it's impossible to determine warp, woof or pattern anywhere else. By virtue, however, of existing in one gather it is assumed there are others, compartmented off into sinuous cycles each of which come to assume greater importance than the weave itself and destroy any continuity. Thus it is that we are charmed by the funny-looking automobiles of the '30's, the curious fashions of the '20's, the peculiar habits of our grandparents. We produce and attend musical comedies about them and are conned into a false memory, a phony nostalgia about what they were. We are accordingly lost to any sense of a continuous tradition. Perhaps if we lived on a crest, things would be different. We could at least see."

What does this remind me of? Tripping, did you really have to ask. Actually I think about tripping every day and actually I can't wait to live up to my fortune cookie and actually it makes me think of the bit in Huxley's mescaline book where he speaks on the folds in the fabric of his pants. Talk about seeing the world in a grain of sand.

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she used to do surgery for girls in the 80's [28 Jul 2005|06:35pm]
[ mood | bored ]

Oh yes and my dad gave me a better copy of V. than the falling apart paperback he's read dozens of times since 1964. It's a Modern Library edition with notes from whoever had it before! He got it on eBay for the dust jacket, to go with a better copy of the same edition which was lacking but is now worth $150. I love books with notes in them. Even when I come across them in the library where people should not be scribbling (don't be steppin' on my turf). "Furthest point to wh/ yo yo can stretch before being pulled back: what this book is about" and "-a tremendous revenge on language."

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like that lucky old sun, give me nothing to do but roll around heaven all day [28 Jul 2005|06:06pm]
[ mood | bored ]

I saw Mr. and Mrs. Smith on Tuesday. It was a really good movie. I think Fein would like it. I kind of miss that kid. I kind of miss a lot of people. Expect me to mention that every other entry. I had never seen Angelina Jolie in a movie before, I always thought she was kind of weird-looking and a terrible ideal of feminine beauty (especially for being too skinny) but she's a good actress, and seeing her in action made her sex appeal accessible to me. I try not to get my hopes up about any movies these days, but maybe I should if Brad Pitt is in them. Can anyone think of a bad movie with Brad Pitt? Ocean's Twelve doesn't count because it's a sequel. And don't say Troy.

Dream recording: Inside Tashua, wrapping up my last day of work, I'm asking Brian (in reality, a current coworker) to get the Transformers magazines/pictures he was using for a project so I can take them home. He looks around the room he was working in, but they aren't there. I realize I already have them. Then, walking home, some Indian guy driving a Prius the same color as Prerna's Mustang with she and Neha in tow pulls up. I keep walking, but then I turn around and she says "Ha! You looked back." She gets out and tries to talk to me, and I say only "I don't want to talk about it." To which she replies, "That's why I'm trying to change the subject." We get to my house (the others have disappeared), and I put on some music I want her to hear, by which she is totally unimpressed but listens to a lot of it anyway. Then I woke up. I don't think it told me anything I didn't already know, except the first part was interesting: looking for something I already had.

Waking up is still the worst feeling in the world.

The dream had me in such a state of distraction today. I'm so incompetent at this job. I almost flipped over the Bobcat and killed myself today. I wouldn't say I was being careless, I was going as slow as possible and watching my path, but looking backwards I lose some control over steering. So, backing into a narrow trail with a steep slope on either side, I tried to correct for the error I made the first time I went this way (bearing towards the upward slope and tipping on some rocks) and over-corrected into some weeds obscuring the edge of the trail. If I hadn't had 600 lbs of gravel in the back, I would have gotten fucked up. This is why I am very nervous about learning to drive. Every time my mom has taken me out to practice, I feel less comfortable than the last. I have a bad feeling about cars (death pods).

The hiatus is over. (Or is it?) Almost exactly three months.

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seasons change, mad things rearrange, but it all stays the same like the love-doctor strange [23 Jul 2005|04:26pm]
[ mood | bored ]

Is this thing on? I am doing the lyrics thing, hmm yes.

Kristi, do you want to design a layout for my LJ? Sucking beer from tits. Ceiling, no floor. No chairs. Dangling bare electrical cables and beer. Like that Radiohead song. That would be a good setting for my new journal.

God damn, I could eat this whole bag of pumpkin seeds.

Today at the golf course, I helped move a 150 ft. Oak that fell down. That was a bitch. I also raked sand traps for four hours. Sometimes my job makes me feel stupid, because I have difficulty operating machinery and following instructions. But then, there are moments like these:

:Me staring off into space:
Co-worker 1: "What's up, O?"
Olaf: "I'm just thinking about Bush's Supreme Court appointee."
CW 1: "Who?"
Olaf: "The new Supreme Court appointment, John Roberts."
CW 1: "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."
CW 2: "He's talking about Judge Judy, I heard she was going to be on the Supreme Court but she turned it down."
Olaf: "Yeah, Judge Judy has too much integrity for SCOTUS."
CW 1: "What?"

The only way I will ever feel good about myself is if I can wave esoteric news over the heads of dumbasses.

This is pretty tight: http://www.djbc.net/glass/

Oh yeah, the main thing I meant to write about was watching Ingmar Bergman's Through a Glass Darkly last night. It was very quiet and intense. The schizophrenic girl was pretty, and I felt so sorry for her... trying to communicate a world only seen by her to others. Surely that is something all thinking people can relate to? Reality is real, but it's real fucked up. And god is a giant rapacious spider. Or god is love. Same difference.

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