Monday, October 25, 2010

this is obscene

so.  i used to think that kate bush was my spirit guide.  then i thought that maybe christopher walken better filled those shoes, what with his wicked skills and whatnot.  but now i know the truth. the two have joined forces.  they have combined their valiant, reeling virtuosity to become one writhing, swaying fist of energy deep in my soul.  kate bush tenderly embraces a nude christopher walken - and i feel it surge within me.  my spirit guides are in love.  imagine if there was a tender red fox at their feet?  spirit guide collective.

and now, a snippet from dave egger's a heartbreaking work of staggering genius:


     there's too many of them, of us.  too many, too similar.  what are they all doing here?  all this standing, all this standing, sitting, talking.  there isn't even a pool table, darts, anything.  just this loitering, lolling, this drinking of beer in thick glasses -
     i've risked everything for this?
     something needs to happen.  something huge.  the taking over of something, a building, a city, a country.  we should all be armed and taking over small countries.  or rioting.  or no: an orgy.  there should be an orgy.
     all these people - we should close the doors and dim the lights and be naked together ... that would make it all worthwhile, that would justify everything.  we could move the table, bring in some couches, mattresses, pillows, towels, stuffed animals...
     but this - this is obscene.  how dare we be standing around, talking about nothing, not running in one huge mass people, running at something, something huge, knocking it over?  why do we all bother coming out, gathering here in numbers like this, without starting fires, tearing things down?  how dare we not lock the doors and replace the white bulbs with red and commence with the massive orgy, the joyous mingling of a thousand arms, legs, breasts?
     we are wasting this.
     what could we possibly be talking about?


***



Wednesday, October 13, 2010

poet mutation

while i conjure up some beautiful things to share with you, my little tenders, i ask of you to take ten minutes [just ten minutes alone!] to soak up every dazzling little drop of this opus - sawdust and diamonds by joanna newsom.  this song will be a survivor.  this song is a warrior.  it changed my life and i hope it moves you deeply.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

great jokes, guy

yesterday my 6-year-old nephew took it upon himself to create his own jokes.  how did he do this?  free association, people.  this kid is a joke-savant.  i took the liberty of writing these little gems down - i'm sure they won't seem as brilliant as they did from the mouth of a 6-year-old.  but use your imaginations, little tenders.

Q: what did bailey [his puppy] say to gracie [our recently departed 14-year-old doberman]?
A: can i borrow your tongue?

Q: what did the picture say to the tree? [this one is remarkable]
A: can i please be your branch?  [what? right?]

Q: what did the door say to the ketchup?
A: can i borrow your handle?

Q: what did the eyeball say to the brown [he means the iris]?
A: can i go to the eyebrow and you can take my spot?

Q: why did my mommy not got any toilet paper?
A: because she hasn't got any eyes!

Q: what did the cow say to the lobster [surf'n'turf, obviously]?
A: can i please borrow your snappies? [said while making snappy motions with hands]

joke-savant.  i rest my case.