this is the kind of day where usually I decline to write why because the thick swamp of what that'd be same same same how's that same is the biggest illusion of all where the shoulder of paranoia provides cover is here here I am and later later I will tell you more
***********************
I wonder, why can't I just get back into that head I can have of glib cynical hyperbolic violence, and then I am confronted with a paragraph such as this:
In Nasiriyah, only Kadem Hashem and his youngest daughter survived when a U.S. missile struck their house. His wife Salima, five of their children, and six other family members who happened to be in the house at the time were killed. Finding a photograph in the debris of his house, Hashem told reporter Ed Vulliamy of The Observer: "This was my middle daughter, Hamadi. I found her burnt to death by that doorway, she had shrunk to about a metre tall." His one surviving daughter, Bedour, described now as "what remains of a beautiful girl," lies on the floor of a relative's house. "She is shrivelled and petrified like a dead cat. Her skin is like scorched parchment folded over her bones. Unable to move, she appears as if in some troubled coma, but opens her eyes, with difficulty, to issue an indecipherable cry like a wounded animal." Hashem dug a mass grave for his family in a nearby holy city. "I collected them all and put them in a single grave at Najaf; my money was burnt, too, and I couldn't afford to bury them separately."
For further articles and studies, see OnPower.org.
Reprinted from The Independent Institute:
http://independent.org/tii/news/040510Higgs.html
This article comes from The Smirking Chimp
http://www.SmirkingChimp.com
The URL for this story is:
http://www.SmirkingChimp.com/article.php?sid=16122
Robert Higgs: 'The crimes at Abu Ghraib are not the worst'
************************
every time I ever lived in the fast lane
I veered and crashed
but the shit part is here I am now still
burning
why
and
my question is now, if I am as unmanacled from pretension now as I wasn't then then now that the cuffs are gone to mail,
can I beat them into
daggers & shuriken
or do I or could I or has it happened already
yes
no
maybe
fuck
shut up
if I ever had salt enough to just tell about daytoday how would that be?:
I drank 5 beers
I loved my dog
I felt rage at some situation
I schemed to get away to fish and get sparchy
I felt estranged
I felt stuck
I felt isolated by what and how much I know about this and this
the sun felt good
I smoked an American Spirit Light
I was alone
I looked at a woman's body and yearned
I felt sad love for the woman I live with and felt like I could cry
my main qualification for being a writer is that all I want to do is sit in a room and drink with you and tell you lies all night then slip in a true story that happened to me once and see if and what it does to your eyes
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
Posted by Unknown at 8:01 PM |
Monday, May 10, 2004
one day
motivation crept back in complaining
of my absent pedigree
I told that wench
run bring me a beer she said you'll never win the title match drinking a hundred now
this is all prelude to me telling you the story of Mercygraft Hill and the old red house, that ancient neighborhood, abandoned by all and for dozens of years save for the old woman's mutant children, numbering 2
one was a bird the color of tarnished copper with a perpetually open beak and 2 human feet emerging, human yelps and mumbling coming horrible from inside its gullet and as I looked closely I saw that the creature's intelligence was somehow fused in there
my companion told me he'd been sitting atop the ruined roof of the house for as long as anyone knew. the danger he presents to himself is a danger to us all
we had earlier climbed the hill, the oldest and highest in town, up a steep road as steep as to be nearly useless in the effort it took to ascend
we scaled some rocky ledge the better to go unobserved and from up there I looked down on the grassy outskirts of the town, the rusty rails of the blasted tracks running far out under tunnellike green and sward canopy of trees and grass and yet curiously to me the view included no vista: I could not see the ocean nor the distant encampents of the armies, armies of men, armies of beasts
(then shift into a battle on a rooftop down in the city, this battle also a wild party for spectators and participants both, and at a certain point I go running off to this artist studio apartment house to do a few things there to use the bathroom being one of them but and of course there is a girl, there is a bunch of other dudes, there are black and red curtains, there is a friend I once betrayed, there is aloofness, everyone there wants to be famous as do I, there is some shame and there are some further inscrutable lessons)
I'm getting ahead of myself
this is all just a prelude. motivation crept back in unannounced sometime in the night last night,
let me tell you friends that I've been down, I've been hurting, I've been fucked up disturbed walking headshot in the morning streets, smoking cigarettes, wondering why how and is it too late well no, no not at all, so I am back here to tell you, writing in stealth, and at 8:12am
bless the hour
****************************
11:16am on the other hand can be a most debilitating hour
reading of war crimes perpetrated by your own countrymen and women and plenty of them
now maybe that is a mind too far but how can it be? all the information is right here
all the details, all the photos and movies
digression is the context in this case
the debiltating minutes; feel myself slipping to the torpor
but then I put a few words in this box unbeknownst and that is some hope
**********************
Some parts of the dream are ridiculous as parts of the life though always more entertaining
the dream runs the life limps perhaps I will carve you an elegy of images tonight
perhaps not
****************************
I have no pedigree and slight precedent in my history for success but what I do have is bezel in the blood enough and obstinacy to decline defeat
my insane ways the massive vanity
the paradox, self-destruction
self-creation
the will to do This
****************************
Cheat the Muse or get
bitch to surrender
either way
will do
long as you
get in
**************************
the schematic aftertaste
grinning
cloven head
carrion twisting
bloody ribbons
on the flagpole
*************************
I said earlier on here that there would be a battle, a battle of men versus animals yeh now aint that just the case
Posted by Unknown at 7:34 PM |
Friday, May 7, 2004
how'd I get so remote. I don't know
paranoia from your hand in the dark.
i think it is a cat. no I think I am one
such a fine sunny day and here I am inside
how'd I get so remote. and yet it was the plan
for me. laid out. fuck. remote. how'd I get so
if I say it it is true. I am insane. one eighth
not enough for anything but to be remote.
history. aboriginals. go in the woods.
I can't all I can do is stare at pines. from here.
they are remote. guess what else is. I should have
wrote instead about my heart. who broke it
I broke it myself. It keeps happening. The rage of a king
the plate
of a beggar
who broke it
me
Posted by Unknown at 10:41 AM |
Thursday, May 6, 2004
a dream of you entwined
some Indian style with another guy
as I walked away well
that was a pretty bad dream
and then I thought about having no morals
but couldn't get there not the way
I have in dreams where I cheated
on you
hey everyone feels like their life is empty
now and then, me same as you same
as anyone
In different age I want to kill the motherfuckers
who hurt us and can't see us, want to kill and humiliate
but in this our age of killing and humiliation
(hey this is our age, same as the last)
nah. what I want is a modest sum,
enough to take you and I even farther away
from the rest of people, to some quiet space
among trees and sun and snow
when it comes. the world is done
but not us, and not a lot of people
just like us. I'm a cynic
a hyperbolist a jerk
and I drink too much but you can't
get past God
and Love God and Love
in some true way which is you have to get away
away from this dead world
and into some
light
Posted by Unknown at 10:04 PM |
Wednesday, May 5, 2004
what I enjoy now fucks is the liberty to say fuck
to my own past psychotic peccadillos
nothin will compare to Abu Grahib cept past
death sick peccadillos perpetrated all long down and
across time
shit drunk and not saying what I came here to say --
mass absolution insanity productivity for everyone like me
that's my prayer
(for everyone else:
the prayer is:
there is a God
and It is
a citizen
of
Love
Posted by Unknown at 9:07 PM |