never seen you lookin so bad my funky one
i sat in a car very recently comtemplating the contemporary scene of leaders/heroes/figures of note. like anything i was sick about it and i was unhappy in the brilliant sun. this is ones way if one has the predictable maladies of finding the despair in any and all things. but i was just working in a field i knew would depress. this is, however hard to avoid. or rather i'm lazy, i'm unoriginal, i'm no scientist, i'm no inventor. i'm watching a crowd sleeping without dreams and these are the folks that constitute my present state. they are sullen and old. ah, aw, ack the state that i am in.
i and some likeminded individuals should create a wildly popular figure to have a better and more healthy influence on public discourse. one who reminds us once in a time to dream whilst abed. and our dreams to be textured and colorful and whatnot. one who can wield these unconscious reigns and crack the whip of the somnambulist! ahoy! full steam ahead! a functional thinker with the particular credibilty of the anti-hero's gaze. a xylophone virtuoso with style to spare. a robot-talker with a steely stare. a symphonic cricket burning like a flare with flowing hair.
i have no ideas but i do not like what i see. its sad sickening but where is john lennon? who is standing on their platform to just say fuck this platform and fuck you ignorant bastards for fawning about. and yet i'm so disgusted with my mind for even wondering this...
how is my mind like a TV commercial? well that metaphor is riddled with cliche. and it passes into oblivion before i can almost be depressed.
pictures of the things we'll never experience, lurid and exploitive. exploitative? exploitational? exceptional exploitation! expolitic expational expatient with me...please indulge this expassionate
halting steps in the wrong line of work
ok remember sept the 11, 2001? well i was commenting a little recently on how i was so surprised that no one seemed to be shamelessly/pornographically invoking this tragedy for the 5 year anniversary. boy was i just not looking in the right place. today i was perusing the NYTimes book review, as is my wont with a cup of coffee and a cigarette if my parents aren't home... ANYWHOOOO i come across ads for (you may not fucking believe this but its fo realz)
Dog Heroes of September 11th
yep its about dogs and their heroics. the Book of the Month Club arrogantly guarentees that this book will "choke you up." now on the one hand i'll bet they're right, and if i perused the actual book i bet i'd cry like a little bitch with a skinned knee but that aint quite the point to me right here right now. my point might be best summed up with a wtf? what the shit do we want so bad to masturbate our collective grief to a friggin puppies that perished shameful climax for? fucking country. i am so depressed by the fact that there is money out there for this and that people are going to buy this by the dozens, maybe hundreds or thou. imagine all the patriotism of blubbering yourself to sleep with a box of oreos and your copy of Dog Heroes. "oh those brave puppies...blub blub...oh those valiant poochies...oh how we lost our innocence...the world changed on sept 11th...at least all dogs go to heaven...right?"
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK
but thats not all...it gets worse...or better
the 9/11 comission report was a bestseller back in '04 but somebody's trottin it back out...with the ILLUSTRATED 9/11 comission report. in case you thought this might not be done tastefully its brought to you by the brilliant minds behind Richie Rich and CASPER THE FRIENDLY GHOST!!! YEAH, those guys are still alive and still relevent as fuck. Obvi!
GOD BLESS AMERICA
GOD BLESS AMERICA
USA
USA
someday
somewhere
today's empires
tomorrow's ashes
i sat in a car very recently comtemplating the contemporary scene of leaders/heroes/figures of note. like anything i was sick about it and i was unhappy in the brilliant sun. this is ones way if one has the predictable maladies of finding the despair in any and all things. but i was just working in a field i knew would depress. this is, however hard to avoid. or rather i'm lazy, i'm unoriginal, i'm no scientist, i'm no inventor. i'm watching a crowd sleeping without dreams and these are the folks that constitute my present state. they are sullen and old. ah, aw, ack the state that i am in.
i and some likeminded individuals should create a wildly popular figure to have a better and more healthy influence on public discourse. one who reminds us once in a time to dream whilst abed. and our dreams to be textured and colorful and whatnot. one who can wield these unconscious reigns and crack the whip of the somnambulist! ahoy! full steam ahead! a functional thinker with the particular credibilty of the anti-hero's gaze. a xylophone virtuoso with style to spare. a robot-talker with a steely stare. a symphonic cricket burning like a flare with flowing hair.
i have no ideas but i do not like what i see. its sad sickening but where is john lennon? who is standing on their platform to just say fuck this platform and fuck you ignorant bastards for fawning about. and yet i'm so disgusted with my mind for even wondering this...
how is my mind like a TV commercial? well that metaphor is riddled with cliche. and it passes into oblivion before i can almost be depressed.
pictures of the things we'll never experience, lurid and exploitive. exploitative? exploitational? exceptional exploitation! expolitic expational expatient with me...please indulge this expassionate
halting steps in the wrong line of work
ok remember sept the 11, 2001? well i was commenting a little recently on how i was so surprised that no one seemed to be shamelessly/pornographically invoking this tragedy for the 5 year anniversary. boy was i just not looking in the right place. today i was perusing the NYTimes book review, as is my wont with a cup of coffee and a cigarette if my parents aren't home... ANYWHOOOO i come across ads for (you may not fucking believe this but its fo realz)
Dog Heroes of September 11th
yep its about dogs and their heroics. the Book of the Month Club arrogantly guarentees that this book will "choke you up." now on the one hand i'll bet they're right, and if i perused the actual book i bet i'd cry like a little bitch with a skinned knee but that aint quite the point to me right here right now. my point might be best summed up with a wtf? what the shit do we want so bad to masturbate our collective grief to a friggin puppies that perished shameful climax for? fucking country. i am so depressed by the fact that there is money out there for this and that people are going to buy this by the dozens, maybe hundreds or thou. imagine all the patriotism of blubbering yourself to sleep with a box of oreos and your copy of Dog Heroes. "oh those brave puppies...blub blub...oh those valiant poochies...oh how we lost our innocence...the world changed on sept 11th...at least all dogs go to heaven...right?"
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK
but thats not all...it gets worse...or better
the 9/11 comission report was a bestseller back in '04 but somebody's trottin it back out...with the ILLUSTRATED 9/11 comission report. in case you thought this might not be done tastefully its brought to you by the brilliant minds behind Richie Rich and CASPER THE FRIENDLY GHOST!!! YEAH, those guys are still alive and still relevent as fuck. Obvi!
GOD BLESS AMERICA
GOD BLESS AMERICA
USA
USA
someday
somewhere
today's empires
tomorrow's ashes
posted by vw at 8:31 PM
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