Friday, August 15, 2014

incommunicado commando

does truth exist?

if it does, it cannot be expressed.

if it cannot be expressed, then it is not true. 

truth cannot be expressed because this structure is flawed.

the structure is the conveyance, or the means of expression...

words are symbols.

symbols have no essence.

they are symbols of another thing that has essence.

the reception of these symbols relies on an assumed contract between parties.

a sort of tacit codex. 

this unchecked, and rarely challenged decoding muddles all essence and actively seeks to reinforce whatever hegemony in fashion. 

therefore, a sentence can never devalue, nor deconstruct.

this is always addition. addendum. more. 

this sentence is fascist.

this paragraph an army.

this blog a genocide. 

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Christian Porn

were I an artist...
 there'd be kitsch & crafts for everyone. 
music for the deaf.
 in a vacuum.
paintings for the blind. 
 at Sunset Beach.
sculptures for the amputees. 
 on an escalator.
books for the witless kitten. 
 in a box. 
autistic philosophy. 
 at a rave. 
dancing with clowns. 
 at a Jimmy Buffet concert. 
an actor in war.
 with an umbrella.




Saturday, July 19, 2014

feigning enthusiasm vs. eating garbage

the shackles of wage slavery hanging from limbs and drag down into the mud. it's not outcome projections but manifestation. simply do nothing all week but work. work. sleep. drive. work. for a pittance. a token. a hypocrite. a fraud. 

One could purchase tools for escape? books. rations. waterproof matches?

that's how it starts. the rationalizing of one's own servitude begins with some as-yet-unneeded item becoming necessity. suddenly one finds themselves with a wife and kids at walmart "buying" patio furniture on credit.

only purchase that which supports rebellion. 

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

another irrelevant hypocrite blogs on The Great American Bowel Movement

an insomniac cannot oversleep nor discern dusk from dawn. 

appointments rarely square with nature.

it's always time for bed somewhere. 

Sunday, July 13, 2014

I know.

"life is food?"

"there's something to look forward to?"

"just do it!"

"love the world?"

"somebody cares?"

"you're a piece of everything?"

"don't be a fucking tough-guy?"

"you're on a team?"

"everything's fair?"

"you're a fucking original?"

"everything's a level playing-field?"

"bother!"

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

I don't know

"life is shit."
"there's nothing to look forward to."
"what's the use?"
"fuck the world."
"nobody cares."
"you're a piece of shit."
"don't be a fucking pussy."
"you're on your own."
"everything's rigged."
"you're a fucking fraud."
"everything's a scam."
"why bother?"

Thursday, June 5, 2014

on being the local vo-tech's homecoming king...

I'd rather catch frogs for fun then keep score at a mindless job. 

the local absence of words is not due to any "progress" with the "lack" of vocation, but an increase in farting-around due to the earth's shifting axial-tilt relative to this writers location in sol. we moved some dead leaves, rocks, and felled limbs. tinkered with both small and medium sized combustion engines. shifted the detritus in the local abode as to accommodate the maximal viewing of moving-pictures and their accompanying sounds. we reacquainted with old friends, and grew distant from new ones, and also declined two offers of gainful employment. saw the croaker at the VA, etc...

in other words, spring has exploded and the gypsy-moths are shitting everywhere. with frogs the size of an adolescent fist, little flying pests that suck your blood, and ivy to poison eve's children, there's plenty to do here...

yet that blackened-cloud of the season we-dare-not-name still lingers. that cordite knot still explodes in the guts, and no amount of physical exertion seems the sufficient antidote. sure, some ultraviolet- radiation encourages the appropriate melatonin reaction, but it lays on the surface of the skin and is no longer the panacea it once was.

so, back to the appropriately prescribed chemicals... our little experiment in mood adjustment as adjucated by our alleged professionals. and while we balk at it all, we must admit failure in the face of simply not getting-by on the good-bye, but encouraged by the hello.  

hello.