Wednesday, July 30


Life is horrific.

What we call life, this endless variety
Of organized matter that developed tissue
Differentiation, body plans, digestive systems,
Locomotion, nerve centers, musculature,
Weapons, armor, better weapons, better armor,
And better weapons is just what it seems:
An arms race to compete for a scarcity of
Resources. It is the desire to procure resources
At the expense of others that drives life onward,
That, indeed, IS life. No other motive, no art,
No wonder of gazing upon stars, postulating
Any higher purpose, no desire to build for aesthetics,
No propoganda of righteousness, no inner reflection,
No knowledge for its own sake, no experimentation,
No pleasure seemingly benign or existential,
No sense of beauty or springboard of new ideas
To propel us into the stars or into the future,
No altruism, no city-building, no bright exchange
Of colorful words, beguiling music, no religion
Or feeling of wonder nor diversity of culture,
No race to cure disease or dreams of the noble savage;
Not one of these things can offer a greater reason
For our existence, and for the existence of all that
Walks, crawls, writhes, swings, digs, or flies
Around us, than that very coarse and humiliating
Base fact that belies the motivations of them all.




images used under 'free use' act. all rights reserved.

Sunday, July 20




too much 21st century
(bauhaus)

there outta be
something better

a better singer
a better actor
better job

better money
better get her
a better lover
better not

too much luck
too much conceit
give me one religion
it's too much

too much passing
information

too much selfish
too much fake
too much computer
too much to take
it's too much

too much effort
too much, kid
too much control
control
it's too much

bet you want to
be something better
a better singer
a better actor
better job

better money
better get her
better love her
better not

ready?
a better human

it's too much
it's too much
oh yeah.

Something tells me this won't sell...

Friday, July 18


Half-life

I'm not alive
At best I'm only half alive
I sleep, and breathe, and
Occasionally I eat
But I have no will to strive
For that elusive something
People need to have
That keeps them from destruction
Allows them to survive.




Hurt
(Trent Reznor)

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here

What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

Saturday, July 12

Last of Chris Cornell for awhile, I promise!



Doesn't Remind Me.
(Cornell)

I walk the streets of Japan till I get lost
Cause it doesn't remind me of anything
With a graveyard tan, carrying a cross
Cause it doesn't remind me of anything
I like studying faces in a parking lot
Cause it doesn't remind me of anything
I like driving backwards in the fog
Cause it doesn't remind me of anything

The things that I've loved, the things that I've lost
The things I've held sacred, that I've dropped
I won't lie no more you can bet
I don't want to learn what I'll need to forget

I like gypsy moths and radio talk
Cause it doesn't remind me of anything
I like gospel music and canned applause
Cause it doesn't remind me of anything
I like colorful clothing in the sun
Cause it doesn't remind me of anything
I like hammering nails and speaking in tongues
Cause it doesn't remind me of anything

The things that I've loved, the things that I've lost
The things I've held sacred, that I've dropped
I won't lie no more you can bet
I don't want to learn what I'll need...

Bend and shape me
I love the way you are
Slow and sweetly
Like never before
Calm and sleeping
We won't stir up the past
So discretely
We won't look back

The things that I've loved, the things that I've lost
The things I've held sacred, that I've dropped
I won't lie no more you can bet
I don't want to learn what I'll need...

I like throwing my voice and breaking guitars
Cause it doesn't remind me of anything
I like playing in the sand - what's mine is ours
If it doesn't remind me of anything.



Friday, July 11

France.

I want to live in France for about five years and learn the language and customs thoroughly - well, as thoroughly as is possible in that amount of time. I'll always be an American, and though I love British culture, am awed by French culture, and respect German culture very much - not to mention many other nationalities worldwide, each with something to offer - I keep coming back to France and the UK as the other "prime movers and shakers" of the last few hundred years. That was where the scientific revolution began (in step with Holland, Germany, Austria, and Italy); That is where excess consumption (a bad thing, but fascinating in its own way) reached its zenith; that (along with Spain, Britain, and Portugal) is where the largest navies and thus colonial trade & conquer policies sprang from. In short, France is on the short list of nations who have shaped the modern world, in my own opinion in this order:

1. Great Britain
2. Spain
3. France
4. Holland
5. The United States

...and you could argue from there. Certainly the Portuguese did their part in "forming"/exploiting the third world; so did Germany to a lesser extent and Italy to an even lesser one. These were the dominant colonial powers and they spread their influence worldwide.

The UK speak English, charming as it is. Spanish I have a rudimentary understanding of still, though I find it not such a pretty language or culture, just personally. This leaves France, at once probably the most sophisticated and scientifically accomplished nation during The Enlightenment as well as the most arrogant and least courageous or savvy in battle amongst the elite powers. It's a study in contradiction, much like the USA, and I find myself drawn by my French blood to discover more of this ancient culture and language.

The cooking, wine, and site-seeing are top-notch, and the language is beautiful, so why not? Not having even stepped foot in the country (The closest I came was Cologne and Aachen which are cities in modern Germany once were part of Charlemagne's France/Gaul), I find myself compelled to visit, and perhaps more than visit. I want to understand the full history, understand the language, and appreciate the Frankish pride that is so often derided. As an American, I can well appreciate that something wonderful can also appear ostentatious or oppressive, depending on who's assessing it. I think France is an important country and I intend to live there for a portion on my life!

20 Languages
I'd like to learn fluently, in order:

1. French
2. Spanish
3. Latin
4. German
5. Greek
6. Magyar (Hungarian)
7. Elvish (Sindarin and Quenya)
8. Dutch
9. Olde English
10. Swedish
11. Finnish
12. Olde Norse
13. Icelandic
14. Hebrew
15. Russian
16. Coptic (Old Egyptian)
17. Italian
18. Gaelic (Irish & Welsh)
19. Portuguese
20. Turkish

You could comment if you like by listing the languages you are personally interested in. It could be just top 10, top 5, or just the languages you find fascinating, unnumbered.

Tuesday, July 8

Geostationary orbits. Lagrange points?

Special Relativity

Good God, what a misnomer. I feel drenched from
Feelings I can no longer place border to border
My mind is like a jukebox that is no long in order
It plays random tunes by itself, ghostly and then proud
But always loud. And I like it uncomfortably loud.
Always, they can dispose of me, but no one cares enough
Or even knows me.

When I was small I felt everything at all.
As I grew it became less chaotically great, but more
Satisfying in that I had some control.
I could kick a bastard in the face
Or I could be the most sensitive
Inquisitive and humanitarian person of all,
At least theoretically.

To feel everything come to a head now, at the end of our lives
Makes it seem almost as though history were simply made for our lives
Why this special frame of reference for me in my time? And you?
The point where billions of slow years of accumulation
Has pushed the coil toward infinite acceleration is through,
And the transition between these two very different realities was now.
Twenty years, two hundred, somewhere thereabouts:
I find it hard to believe there isn't some special relevance, somehow.

Do I sound like a theist? Deism is all I will concede, at gunpoint
Breathing on eggshells, pincushions for lungs, trembling, a nervous beast
Penned up; to find your hold on reality is slipping is one thing,
To trade something for nothing quite another; ideas can't just be taken away
Alternatives must exist and they can be swapped for each other
Or else where is the sense? To what aim is a life force to bend itself then?
I feel the sickness of sudden deceleration in the nerves beneath my skin.

And these eyes have seen enough.
Bring it to a close, soon I hope, with dignity if possible
Or with a rusty machete
If dignity ain't ready.
This stomach can't swallow any more pride or this
Heart hurt anymore inside me today. So I'm
Packing up my mind to shuffle toward any light that may save me.

Or to fully embrace my last moment of voluntary angst
And move on to nothingness, if that is what truly awaits "ME"

And good God, it's muggy out
Hot and sweaty, buggy
Without it feeling healthy at all
That sun
Slowing me to a crawl
And after I get home, I might fall
On my bed
But for now, I'm still chugging
Hoping for a cool spell or something
Some respite of calm and collected thoughts,
One restful night would be good
Before the end of it all.

Please don't forget me - I really love you all.

But there is something wrong with my mind
And I can't rewind, can't make figures of clay
Like YHWH, and cry out that they are now alive.
I cannot thrive in a world that is this way.
My friends of now and yesterday,
My heart goes out to you in spades.

Every time I emerge from a conflict between pragmatism
And the ideals I hold dearer than my own being
I emerge the worse for it
And it's simply getting harder and harder to pretend.
My life is a mess with only one visible end.

But please don't forget me - I really love you all
To the extent I am capable.

(dedicated to "zwida")


Thursday, July 3


Be Yourself.

(Chris Cornell)

Someone falls to pieces sleeping all alone,
And someone kills the pain.
Spinning in the silence,
She finally drifts away.

Someone gets excited in a chapel yard
And catches a bouquet.
Another lays a dozen white roses on a grave.

To be yourself is all that you can do.
To be yourself is all that you can do.

Someone finds salvation in everyone,
Another only pain.
Someone tries to hide himself,
Down inside himself he prays.

Someone swears his true love until the end of time,
Another runs away.
Separate or united,
Healthy or insane...

And to be yourself is all that you can do.
To be yourself is all that you can do.

Even when you've paid enough,
Been put upon, or been held up
With every single memory of
The good or bad faces of luck,
Don't lose any sleep tonight,
I'm sure everything will end up alright;
You may win or lose...

But to be yourself is all that you can do.
To be yourself is all that you can do.
To be yourself is all that you can do.
To be yourself is all that you can do.

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