Various strains of thought have been rumbling through my mind over the last few days, a lot of silent moments on the beach staring out over the lake at the horizon. My scheming and fiction plotting and thinking about issues is all done in a hidden world in the grayish sponge in my skull. My physical form painted and is very fucking happy with the results, thank you very much, walked the dog through the park and into the lake, read a long introduction to a copy WALT WHITMANS LEAVES OF GRASS; in a book that contained the way he first published the book, which grew over 200 pages as the poet added to the work he considered his 'bible (Walk basically worked on this book all his life, and became a bit deluded in the end and started feeling like he was the gods choice to bring a new gospel to America; regardless, the book is fabulous, even if this one critic who obviously knows a hell of a lot more about the topic than kind of disses it in the introduction to this edition, which has Walt on the cover, and a nice marketing ribbon attatched to mark my page; let me just end this digression by saying that reading walk Whitman aloud in the bath tub is a transcendental experience -- he was trying to evoke religiosity and nationalism and love in the reader/listener, and firmly believed that only when his work was read aloud was there magic in the air). Wow... Really digressed, there eh?
Digressing on to another topic to avoid having to confront seeing THE LORD OF THE FLIES acted out by way, way too many of the supposedly civilized poor, mostly black they thought there was a golden lining to this heavy, heavy cloud... How would I feel, left in the city to fend for myself? I would have to break in someplace and get food -- the dog and cat have to eat, and I would not hesitate to blow away some nonsharing fucking jerk with a shotgun to feed my precious ones... But, this was not the case with most of these looters. Most of them are thieves all the time, some just shyster types who don't return the money when a cashier mistakenly gives them too much, and then of course there were the otherwise good people driven half mad by the storm, and seeking some emotional solace by obtaining new BRIGHT AND SHINY THANGS!!!
There is a map that I was looking at today that charts what land the oceans will reclaim due to the greenhouse melting the arctic ice, and New Orleans is expected to be a nice place to scuba dive for relics. I may get unlazy and call my buddy, whose house I was at when we got to discussing this matter and I told him of seeing the map on the net and told him the site. J Bird pulled up a blue outline of the united states, and the text at the top explained that the red shows what will soon be under water, due to all these cars and industrial growth shit... Yea, we seem to have fucked ourselves big time here...
WELCOME TO THE POST-ORIGINAL ENVIRONMENT PHASE OF HUMANITIES MESSY JOURNEY
All I can say is a whisper to a cat
words fall to the floor
smash
embedded in vowels and consonants
sounds usually amusing to my mind
bring nothing to the party
Humans Pray And Beg And Steal and some act
with no regard to others,
fuck some guy in prison
who is screaming and bleeding
and they don't give a damn...
THOU SHALT NOT STEAL THE WRITINGS OF JOHN SCOTT RIDGWAY... YOU CAN EASILY GET PERMISSION FOR A NON COMMERCIAL REPRINT BY CONTACTING MY EMAIL.
Friday, September 02, 2005
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment