but you will be arrested
what will we do then?
don’t worry, just follow the broadcasts
go to a birthday party, wash a blanket
January 30, 2007
January 19, 2007
I’ve always smiled at the geeko political joke….as a sort of mutant lefty: What did a few years of capatilsm do that communism in Russia never did?
Make communism (post-gulagy) look really good…check out the following tid-bits furnished by Perry Anderson:
In just five years, from 1990 to 1994, the mortality rate among Russian men soared – in peacetime – by 32 per cent, and their average life-expectancy plummeted to under 58 years, below that of Pakistan. By 2003, the population had fallen by more than five million in a decade, and is currently losing 750,000 lives a year. When Yeltsin took power, the total population of Russia was just under 150 million. By 2050, according to official projections, it will be just over 100 million. So many were not undone by Stalin himself.
January 15, 2007
Ah, my beloved Seahawks lose to the Bears in OT. Yes, I am a football fan in my own way. May the entire bird kingdom somehow bother the city of Chicago, and where all Bears fans roam….till next year. The Seahawks need less holy rollies on their team, and more TATUPU POWER!
The following seems more plausible than other ideas on the same nebulous subject…..anything that deflates the very recent historical enthroning of the individual as somehow wholly and magically extricated from it’s dependence on the social, nay, it’s very existence never mind it’s exaggerated preeminence from the social, and not reliant on considering the ‘other’ as fully conditioning in several ways the complex aggregate self… I welcome these conjectures with beaming smile….
It has been suggested by Horace Barlow, Nick Humphrey, David Premack and Marvin Minsky (among others) that consciousness may have evolved primarily in a social context. Minsky speaks of a second parallel mechanism that has evolved in humans to create representations of earlier representations and Humphrey has argued that our ability to introspect may have evolved specifically to construct meaningful models of other peoples minds in order to predict their behavior. “I feel jealous in order to understand what jealousy feels like in someone else” — a short cut to predicting that persons behavior.
January 10, 2007
COwbung blob Orkin
I have video footage of an illegal wedding with a Hulkamania theme and a puking priest-ass-grabber–soda guggler that took place in Edison, New Jersey. I always thought the world would end after I watched the worse movie ever. The movie won’t exist, it can’t. ‘Worse’ in my imagination stretches into further and further nadirs, like pop corn commercials that don’t show what most popcorn commercials show, people enjoying the ACT of popping corn. Verily, nay, super-verily, does one see half naked dancers reciting shitty poetry on a trapeze during a pop corn commercial? Ah, the end, the freakin end, the no more! Sorry accident world, sorry extinct species, sorry movie goers….and now…
Alarms, Alarms!
By: Dom Maltempi 1-10-07
That Ethiopian joke that had nothing to do with famine
Gave painful birth to Jokies
Exited from the wintered mouth of some pub piss lout
Trying to excite the curdled dalliance held hostage
Within a reticent recent divorcee’s blood pumper
Studio audiences become super organisms
Ordering mutant black cherry soft drinks
From multiple choice waitresses circling themselves
with cheap lead
A B C D or let’s play ALARMS!
Order the pretzels Charles!
They support murders!
Of our lifestyles!
so soft they are not only inedible
they render other items inedible by their presence
time to vote, Yawn…I love him famous
I love her could she be the next ?
Time to wait now, what to do, average like me
Tally, tally, appetizers!
Hate all the stuffing, gloob
Great!
Time had watched us again now!
Vote your condition
Moribund…but really zazzed up go!
Milk and tea rats scamper in the bed time witness protection story citadel
Certain snoozer cap stories, moon toothed, tousled breathe all talcum swabbed
have whispered in certain lawmen’s ears
They have been found out!
Call in the milk and tea rats, adorable anger flares just for a jerkoff sec
The harangues in fat ass land must be paused momentarily!
These idyllic bedtime stories must be snatched from their anonymous refuge
transformed into an instruction booklet for dated calf muscle exercise machines of no efficacy!
WORD UP
gnawed by the most shrill of the jockeys sick enough to crawl
out of the bowed box where no dancing strumpet stretches limbs
The guards have been put on alert for the Jokies
Gleep, hag hag!
It’s the same enervating gag
strident notes, harbinger of grinding queasiness
COwbung blob Orkin
I have video footage of an illegal wedding with a Hulkamania theme and a puking priest-ass-grabber–soda guggler that took place in Edison, New Jersey. I always thought the world would end after I watched the worse movie ever. The movie won’t exist, it can’t. ‘Worse’ in my imagination stretches into further and further nadirs, like pop corn commercials that don’t show what most popcorn commercials show, people enjoying the ACT of popping corn. Verily, nay, super-verily, does one see half naked dancers reciting shitty poetry on a trapeze during a pop corn commercial? Ah, the end, the freakin end, the no more! Sorry accident world, sorry extinct species, sorry movie goers….and now…
Alarms, Alarms!
By: Dom Maltempi 1-10-07
That Ethiopian joke that had nothing to do with famine
Gave painful birth to Jokies
Exited from the wintered mouth of some pub piss lout
Trying to excite the curdled dalliance held hostage
Within a reticent recent divorcee’s blood pumper
Studio audiences become super organisms
Ordering mutant black cherry soft drinks
From multiple choice waitresses circling themselves
with cheap lead
A B C D or let’s play ALARMS!
Order the pretzels Charles!
They support murders!
Of our lifestyles!
so soft they are not only inedible
they render other items inedible by their presence
time to vote, Yawn…I love him famous
I love her could she be the next ?
Time to wait now, what to do, average like me
Tally, tally, appetizers!
Hate all the stuffing, gloob
Great!
Time had watched us again now!
Vote your condition
Moribund…but really zazzed up go!
Milk and tea rats scamper in the bed time witness protection story citadel
Certain snoozer cap stories, moon toothed, tousled breathe all talcum swabbed
have whispered in certain lawmen’s ears
They have been found out!
Call in the milk and tea rats, adorable anger flares just for a jerkoff sec
The harangues in fat ass land must be paused momentarily!
These idyllic bedtime stories must be snatched from their anonymous refuge
transformed into an instruction booklet for dated calf muscle exercise machines of no efficacy!
WORD UP
gnawed by the most shrill of the jockeys sick enough to crawl
out of the bowed box where no dancing strumpet stretches limbs
The guards have been put on alert for the Jokies
Gleep, hag hag!
It’s the same enervating gag
strident notes, harbinger of grinding queasiness
January 2, 2007
Not to be confused with Money under the couch slut
1-2-07
It was one of those days where you ended up unwillingly participating in taste tests for products that would never be shelved beyond a single two cashier Rainy Day Lime chain that was dying at the hands of the usual stroke and fang the poor mega-doozies. At first you were presented a crumbling Dixie cup worth of a liquid that would flout the most accurate Breathalyzer test around. Why not know about the future of a little ballyhooed market, such as the don’t get busted drinking while operating a _________?
It was a queer feeling exuviating a skin you did not suspect had not been already peeled away. There you were being carefully accosted walking two bikes with two flats, shoe laces all undone through a cordoned off area of dead yellow grass and vandalized warning signs. Did you remember the Christmas the fertilizer company burnt down? But you accepted this ‘challenge’ from the fairly attractive woman fixing her wrinkled blouse in the damning heat. One suspected upon seeing her table and folding chairs with the tired sheet of plastic signage announcing this ‘challenge’ that she was more than apt to leave a little shoulder exposed. Maybe a little of this side in May, maybe a little of that side if a Lucky was hanging out of her pencil sharpener of a mouth.
Was this the same shoulder girl who bought the ominous 40 oz beer they called Lazer with a Z?
the same reason I don’t want to do a keg-stand jackass
Happy new years!
Some kid at a party I went to who was 20…maybe he was on drugs …but he asked me how old I was….he was twenty or something like that………..and when I told him he was freaking out….it illuminated how young he was and how much time he had to do whatever it is he did………at first his strange stammering joy of this fact bothered me a tad…….it’s always frustrating to experience a giddy ignorant kid wasting his time relishing his youth………….but then the smarter side of me remembers how lucky it is to have all that shit over-with..considering that no matter how you slice it…you are only 20 for x amount of hours or days….regardless of when born……and I don’t think I would want to be that age in the year 2007 if I had a choice….and counting on the fact that you can’t be something twice…unless you are the devil or something…which I’m not…..but I like his horns. I later saw this same kid ebullient over a marijuana cigarette, fall into a picnic table, I think I’m carrying on with time, meaning…my interests, thoughts, all though not as much…sense of responsibility has trailed along with the biological ticking on. Unlike many other people I’ve encountered, I’m proud that I had not been Mr. Adult from some awful teen age……measuring my actions and behavior against some tight fitting cascade of goals and all that ossifying soul stuff that driving so hard in that direction portends….. I am happy to be 32 years old in the year 2007 godamn it…!!!!!!!!
….I’m glad about all the accidental bits and bites, surges and flatteners attending the carriage and jet ride of this life so far
…it all depends on who you wanted butchered..>Crime(s)?
We’ve shut him up. The moment Saddam’s hooded executioner pulled the lever of the trapdoor in Baghdad yesterday morning, Washington’s secrets were safe. The shameless, outrageous, covert military support which the United States – and Britain – gave to Saddam for more than a decade remains the one terrible story which our presidents and prime ministers do not want the world to remember. And now Saddam, who knew the full extent of that Western support – given to him while he was perpetrating some of the worst atrocities since the Second World War – is dead.
Gone is the man who personally received the CIA’s help in destroying the Iraqi communist party. After Saddam seized power, US intelligence gave his minions the home addresses of communists in Baghdad and other cities in an effort to destroy the Soviet Union’s influence in Iraq. Saddam’s mukhabarat visited every home, arrested the occupants and their families, and butchered the lot. Public hanging was for plotters; the communists, their wives and children, were given special treatment – extreme torture before execution at Abu Ghraib.