In A Vacuum

In a Vacuum

Time is illusory
Fate is but a dream
Monkey do monkey see
Where's the ‘I’ in team?

Hold onto yesterday
Put it in a box
Tell yourself it’s okay
Minutes from your clocks

Tomorrow isn’t real
All inside your head
Alive but you can feel
Such a thing as dead

Time is only money
Money equals debt
The land of milk and honey
Tastes like salty sweat

Thought for Today:

freedom is expensive but a well spent investment
posted by Counter Mag at 4:06 PM 1 comments

You can't fool the children of the revolution...can you?

I resolve to watch Real Stories of the Highway Patrol. I resolve to watch Extra, American Journal, and America’s Dumbest Criminals. Have you been to Algeria? You know where that is? It’s in North Africa. A little while ago some REBELS killed over 400 people there in a village while they slept. I resolve to watch Baywatch and Friends. We all need friends. We all need a reason for something. They lock up people who don’t have reasons. They call it being unreasonable. So which are you: frosted or whole wheat?

Lasers. They use lasers in space. Lasers for laser surgery. Lasers for laser discs. They’ve got infra-red lasers. For laser tag, for better night vision, for insurgence reassurances. There’s a room, deep underground, where they know the future. It’s all been decided beforehand. They’ve three-dimensional maps and detailed intelligence, the cure for cancer, real cream and not coffee whitener. No one’s sure who exactly runs this operation. No one’s exactly sure of anything. That’s why you’re not in charge.

What would you do if you did know? What would anyone do with the facts if they knew them to be infallible? It’s the Gilligan’s Island principle. You’d think that if they could find the time to invent a device that can vaporize an entire city they could find a fat guy, a skinny guy, two complainers, a prude, a tease, and the world’s most brilliant scientist. Believe me, if you could make a telephone system out of coconuts they’d come looking for you at the drop of a hat. But instead they were marooned. Probably because it is impossible to find seven people on an island in the Pacific when they’ve been locked up in the basement of a studio in Burbank. Maybe because that was the whole point of the show. The fact remains that without the stupidity of its design it wouldn’t exist. Therefore, no one’s exactly sure of anything. It’s better for you that way. That’s why you’re not in charge. You might go and do something like change the rules. And we can’t have that now, can we.

Looking back at the Earth from the moon I am reminded of inadequacies. Of futility and the mistakes of time. I am reminded that it is a small thing in a place of much larger things. It is, after all, one of billions. I am also reminded of an ant farm that I used to have when I was young. It was this little plastic tank filled with dirt. The ants made tunnels, the ants multiplied, and eventually the ants ate each other. I had forgotten about it. I had left it on a shelf. One day they were all gone. Just a few corpses. The dirt had dried up. There are footprints on the moon. Reminders. Fossils for someone to find. The Earth looks small from most places, I would think. Unless you’re standing on it, looking up. Then you’re the Master of the Universe. Either that or a dummy. Flip a coin.

I have no reason to believe that anything is possible. Impossibility is a greater motivational force than probability. The human condition dictates this. And you thought you were upwardly mobile.

Paris Hiltons Vagina

A choked highway
In and out of a riot drug metropolis
Slicked with cheap oil
Fast and easy, slow and hours long
Paris Hilton’s vagina

Ghetto rock for Princess
Pipe pages, a sticky magazine
Slow tongue in the basement
High on the American dream
Paris Hilton’s vagina

People parts for your gas tank

Poised a wreck
Teetering
Acrobats without middle ears
Dogs, all hungry, beg the winds up
Bones shown through wounds menu their lust
Blood for ketchup, food for oil

I’ll trade you my banana for your chocolate pudding
Because I’ve got a bad feeling about all of this

The greeting card brotherhood

A factory shadow
Rusted roofs, weed gardens of molding recliners
Five and dime evangelists stalk the isles of Walmart
Jeffersonian romantics gazing the velvet vistas of Guthrie’s sing-song
The socialist run out of his skeleton
Picked clean by the slithering Roy Cohen slugs of the American forest
This land is the automaton’s land

God is great some say
A percentage at least
Where they are to be found is a profound mystery
God’s work remains painfully his alone

Defending the irrational

I have found that there are a couple of ways to defend an irrational argument that proves something in someones world.

if we have the argument:

1)If dogs have white eyes then they are blind
2)blue has white eyes

3)therefore blue is a blind dog.

and this argument is one that is being defended in order to protect the fragile ME from accepting what is NOT-ME, then there are a few tricks.
1)The hidden premise
They can bring in a hidden premise. Something which you have not talked about before which they assume. A hidden premise is that blue IS IN FACT a dog. Perhaps blue really isnt a dog at all, and then number 3 would have to be assumed not as possible as it once was.
2)Re-arranging/redefining.
Sometimes we just redefine what is it exactly to have white eyes in order to justify our argument.
3)A premise might be blatantly wrong. Perhaps all white-eyed dogs are not in fact blind.

In both cases, I have found that in re-defining, and the import of a hidden premise, these tricks come right out of the subjective world of the person defending. Normally I would not say, your subjective world is wrong. I don't feel as If I am the type to tell people how they should live their lives. However, and this could be based on irrational argument itself, their may be exceptions to telling people that their view of the world is wrong; perhaps when they invite you to dismantle it, or even less probable, when their world is unknowingly hurting themselves, or others. Please leave your comments on this topic here if you like.

Here is an example

the event of seeing a gnome in a tree.

The ME is someone who is not-crazy, who sees things only accepted by society.
The NOT-ME has potential schizophrenia, who sees things that have never been seen before. who sees impossible things

The ME gains its identity by saying I am not NOT-ME (pointing at all the things NOT-ME entails)

An argument supporting the ME might be.
Gnomes exist in stories
This world is not a story
therefore gnomes do not exist in this world

Now in defense of ME, ME might use the inadequacies of language to adapt gnome to any defintion it sees fit in order to save itself from changing. In other words if you were to say, well there are garden gnomes. then they would redefine saying ANYTHING but GARDEN GNOMES!.
Or they might bring in the hidden premise that gnomes do not exist outside of stories. Which is the direct alteration of the world to suit their needs.
Or perhaps this world is a story, all possible angles should be explored. where you meet with resistance or defense is where the ME hides its food-stores.

anyways, please forgive me for this crude crude example. Anyone willing to discuss this further please leave a message
I am waiting for you to tear this apart.





I

Love? Freedom? Let's see...

No dead cupids. No poetry. No dead cuddling (well, unless thats your idea of cuddling). No cussing). Just pure, raw manlove.

Enjoy, fellow humans.

DON'T BULLSHIT PEOPLE

Tangled Grey And Black

Who Are The Pigs?

NAFTA (canada in her coffin)

Partying With Mom

Food For Thought

See You In Dundas Soon

Post-Industrial Chair

Greed

ECO Village

Dear friends,
We are holding an inaugural ecovillage meeting on Friday June 16th at 6PM in Guelph, Ontario (exact location TBD).
Proposed Agenda:

Roundtable - an opportunity for everyone to share their personal vision for our ecovillage
Reflection on values and visions we share in common
Non-negotiables (discussion about the things, situations, and systems that MUST and MUST NOT be present for us to consider starting a community)
Discussion on roles (e.g. notetakers, meeting faciliators, researchers ...) and decision-making methods (e.g. consensus, voting…) for our group.
Discussion of timeline for our ecovillage development process
Set a date for our next meeting and discussion of plans for future collaboration

Please share this email with anyone who might be interested and encourage them to attend.
RSVP by June 13th to Sarah Lawson (h: 613-321-4090 w: 613-947-7381 email: sarah.lawson@utoronto.ca)
See you soon!
xo Sarah

Fuck Love

And fuck you too

Counter Culture or Elitism?

Counter culture movements usually detest elitists. Actually they're often bred and raised as a rebellion against the elite caste.
An odd irony spurs when a counter culture starts to gain momentum. People picture elitists as the people that drive the $100,000 SUV a block and a half to get their hair cut. In some sense that'd be true. All to often we do this though looking down on these poor animals, the poor that need these items to feel adequate. In that very same moment we might just as well be looking into the mirror.

One of the strongest arguments against counter-consumerism is the "Who the fuck are you" response. We may look at that person in the SUV lazy and wasteful. You can shout "Who the fuck needs such a beheamoth to move themselves less than a kilometer" All they say in response is "Who the fuck are you to tell me what I need"

They're right, and concurrently so very wrong. Despite how blatantly they display their imperfection, in the face of this argument all you can do is stare blankly. The feeling of defeat is accompanied by the sickening revelation that you just stumbled into elitism. How can you answer that, how can you be qualified to tell someone else how to live.

Nobody likes to be told what to do, least of all the affluent that keep the consumerism gravy train rolling. They "have" and you must be jealous because you clearly "have not." How can you not be jealous? The urge to be a complete asshole is so visceral, so instinctual. Go to the drag races and see if you don't get a stupid grin when you see that someone in 3 seconds, has burned enough fuel to power your treehugger mobile for 600km. Perhaps that's not your thing? Whatever your vice, gross excess will likely make you giddy.

So if they're right how can you let them know that they're wrong? Be generous, help the community, share your belongings and money. Take care of your community and it will take care of you. Lead by example and try to release people from their greed and wants. Create a friendly environment where people watch each others backs. You and your neighbors mow the lawn every other day or so? Why the fuck do you all have your own lawnmower? Buy one as a community lawn mower. This works best when you let go of the definitions of "mine" and "your's." So some greedy prick won't let you have it back. So what let him have it. The machine that drives consumerism is the idea that everybody needs one of everything, maybe even two or three. Rebuilding the trust and relationships between people and creating almost a micro-communist state is almost a utopia. Not the fascist utopia of political communism. Instead the "Fuck the man" anarchistic utopia.

Rather than noisy raucous protests, wagging one lazy finger at passing SUV's. Create a neighborhood system that makes the rich jealous. They'll want the wealth that you have but won't know how to buy it.

Anyway...bottom line
Be a trend setter not a snob

better than barcodes

I don't mind
searching for stars
in the deepest darkest space
long from home on this trip
an adventure of thoughts and motions
all equalling the same equation
no matter which way you sequence
the numbers
Everything in numbers
We are all just numbers
that touch each other
and turn into other numbers
creating bigger numbers
finding the smallest equation
to the largest answer
keep it simple
the numbers will divide themselves
and multiply in places
we have overlooked
Maybe one of the numbers
could place me on it's back
and as it floats around in space
I could pay in thoughts
and motion forward
and find your star awaits

To Those Who Slumber

Who's going to pick you up
After the wake of destruction
When all are left wondering
Why they made no moves
Even you, knew it was coming
They watched the water pull up
Watched the wave break
Ran selfishly to higher ground
Where they still are flat at the bottom
Feeeding on their blood, sweat and tears
Eating the algae of those who suffer
Through tumultuous times and woe
Building the saviour you would need
Because they saw it coming
And created the tools you wish you had
So thank your God there was room
On the mountain of salvation
Because he gives a flying fuck
And created this world
In hopes you'd see beyond
The hell and terror you endure
Living in your bubble
Never wondering what's outside
The fragile wall of soap and washcloths
That keep you from getting dirty
And save you from what is behind the walls
Of your own mind
So keep reaching for resources to keep you clean
Now you've found the shore of lies
That you are too afraid to sail to
Because to you it's just sand
After that more dirt
You'd rather pink cloud your thoughts
With butterflies and butter tarts
And wait for the bloody picnic
When we all choke on the raisins.

Love

Learning to Live is Learning to Let Go

Lost in paradise

How can we be lost in such a beautiful place? When did we let our imaginations slip away? When did we allow our thoughts to not even be our own? When did we let ourselves arise in this massive pile of pity shit? We didn’t. And we never will. It’s a very easy path to take, a lot are doing it; a lot are scared. Maybe you need to give that part of yourself to other people, the scared part, before it can actually heal. It is as easy as peeing to pretend that everything is ok, to always be the one uplifting everyone else, trying to make the impossible happen, when really you need a little fucking air too. Haha, hypocrite, your not going to get any air if you don’t ask for it! Do we have to ask though? Isn’t it just assumed? Don’t you love telling people stories that are just a little exaggerated in order for them to have a good laugh? Don’t you like telling someone they look super nice, even if they don’t, just to make their day? Don’t you realize that every anger that comes towards you is just a test? Maybe you do, I forgot temporarily, but in writing this I remembered. Lets keep our happen thoughts and imaginations forever, no way that’s getting taken away from me! You keep me in check and I will do the same for you. Kids can be cruel because they do not know any better, but now we know better, so by the way…you looked really nice today, I like your lunch bag that is soo cool, thanks for asking to be my partner for the game, thanks for smiling at me on my first day of school, thanks for everything.

Two faces

it's a strange emptiness when you're not around, and yet standing right in front of me. the you i refer to is the deepest part of you - the lover, the dreamer, the poet, the writer, the philosopher, the artist, the child. some moments you're lost, and despite being able to hold your body or look into your eyes, your body gives no warmth and your eyes have no light. where do you go, when you leave us all behind? for those words, empty words, keep coming, and hollow emotion, and mechanical actions. is this your grand design? have you programmed yourself to take these mental vacations from the world, cut off all ties, detach all strings, just to get away every once in a while from this boring and monotonous reality? maybe you could teach the rest of us, so we can leave you behind and you will know how it feels.

May 6th-31st 2006 (below)

Scotty

Scotty took some good photos when he was in London, England.
in this one, it seems he is using himself as a scale, so that we can get an idea of how large the building is. But I think that the building is bigger than that. And I cant find the square of the hypotenuse to make an accurate judgement.
I will have to go there myself some time.

A Useful tool

A breif explanation.
1)Me defines itself by pointing at the NOT-ME, saying "I am not that." This forms a deep relationship between ME and NOT-ME. This can be called Rejection.
2)Me needs to justify its rejection of NOT-ME so
3)Me maintains this rejection by beleif grounded on either logical or illogical argument.
4)Therefore ME is right. and NOT-Me wrong, and unfortunatly impossible ...
5)Unless the argument that supports ME is proven to be illogical. In which case the impossible becomes possible and ME regains a little more of itself.

This may seem very obvious, but give it a try, I was able to see a gnome in a tree by using this technique. (Although then the question of approaching schizophrenia came up, which i rejected and pushed into NOT-ME, this didnt help the gnome, as he quickly dissapeared.)

p.s. a couple of things to watch out for

Since the ME defines itself by saying what it is not, the assimilation of NOT-ME into ME, makes for less comparison for the build-up of ME, therefore ME gets less defined as it rejects less.

Also Just because something is NOT-ME doesnt mean it doesnt exist.

Jacky thought so

my god:
i love this article so much,! cos its also sth happening in china.
what is happening here may be not so positive as one might suppose though.
china is a big giant, which is now a walking giant, rather than a waking-up one. thus leading to the fears of many neighboring states, who never really liked to put this stuff on the table.
i am living in this country, who hava always been pround of my mother land and will continue so.
but i 'd like to share sth i consider with all of you guys.
that is what is realy making china's lower "castes"----miserable farmers.
i in person witnessed the changes of china , particularly that of all the farmers around me.
as for me, farmers in china have been through enormous agonies in the old china, but never been respected, which could be deduced from what happened to this group these years.
they still couldnot feed their big families as a result of their violation of the family planning.
people from the rural areas are even trying to sell in the urban areas what yielded on their lands despite the government's increase in the farm products.
sometimes i feel too much pain on this, or maybe just because i focused too much of my concentration on this, hopefully.
i took jogging in beijing,china roughly every morning,which made me working out now,plus, not so much the same as shawn.
but not too many people really cared the air quality which has been worsened since this city have become a great ancient capital.
this phenomenon has prompted the environment to become more deteriorated, as demonstrated by what i felt when running every morning.
a lot of people died in the race held in hongkong as a result of the air pollution .
this is not mock alert,or fake scary stuff, this is what i saw on the tv through the news live.
again, hopefully, this wont happen to us,however,
is it too far from where we are now?
fact speak otherwise.
yueliang, a small county in Xi An, with over emitted wasted air by those ilgally foulded factories, people's health have been tremendously pollution-affected.
i hope this is simply an illusion resulting from the phenomenon, rather than the base of the social system, or whatever.
i worried a lot about my homelan. too much remained ununresolved.
hope this wont invite too many challenges, rather, would make you join me on this, will you?

Who Likes Tea?

SAY 'I'

Black Tea Revelation

So I sipped my tea from the black mug of revelation, again
And continued to read between the lines of repudiation
My reflection became a faint image of Christ
Upturning tables inside the most lavish of temples
It was said that the time is coming
When the bogus churches will be revealed
The moneychangers will cease to exercise their dominion
And the bankers will no longer be praised
It was said that the angels are already here
Born among us to carry out the plan
Here they gather to discuss the project ahead, again
With plans to seed a new forest of righteousness
Destroying man’s prison of concrete and steel
It was said that this very message would be misconstrued
Over time and out of context, these words would be employed to oppress
Greedy men might hoard away knowledge, again
Printing only those texts that may bind their books with fear
Their scriptures, inked in blood
Their houses filled with intolerance
These men will be the last and their empires too
Because it was said, that when I sip the last drop
From the black mug of revelation
Earthly affluence will transform into spiritual poverty, again
And all who were once so blind to this fact
Now they will surely see

Orange Pekoe Sunshine

The world is waking
And I have tea
Birds softly singing
In harmony

Whose light mist covers
With subtlety
The skewed horizon
Reality

Floating, fluttering
Transcendental
Way past stuttering
Distances blue

Not worth uttering
Unspoken words
If the trees do it
So should you too

Holy Fucking Bibles Batman!

Did you ever hear of such a thing as permanent scar tissue?
It’ll sodomize you to the be all end
Where you’ll drink vinegar and piss out holy water
As the cat of nine tails works to bloody up your back
I have ways, my friends
Was there ever a moment in your life that you doubted
Evil exists not as punishment for the wicked
But as ignorance among men who shall be saved
As unknowing infants are abandoned at the cradle
Was there a moment in your life that you abandoned god?
Maybe you cursed your birth and swore at your lying mother
Maybe you shaved your head and found solstice with the atheists
A campus strut, a slicked back smile
A paper sure to be gentle on the antipathy of crown professors
Die, systems, die!
Order is drab to the finely tuned ear of the social awareness architect
Graffiti on walls, tell me, where is god at now?
The iron shaft and fluffy white beard imagery, effectively replaced
Replaced by a newer, sleeker image
One designed to increase your oppressors efficiency
Grow your testicles large, shave your pubic hair without blades
And make your nipples puffy and red
God isn’t a hypothesis to you, he lines your wallet with credit
You spend god you really don’t have
You borrow god for interest from the local lending institution
Fifty gods each day is hardly enough god to feed a family
Luckily for you there’s a seventy-five year plan to make your god extremely affordable
Amortization is the road to salvation
Can’t you picture it?
Finally owning your own god, with a walk-in closet and an art niche
Three different colours of beige and a one year warranty
After which, your tiny slice of heaven begins to shift and crack
Get out before the god market falls off!

LEGALIZE IT

Somebody with a sweet photo editor, please restore this to mint, print it, get it put onto 50 t-shirts and mail them to anybody that might like one

Okay fine...but at least smoke a joint!

clusterfuck

and a duck

What to do with the extra cash??

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Question

What is the difference between happiness and contentment?

Bad Joke

wake up in your fantastical reality once again
everyone else is dreaming
when does the bubble burst?
the collapse of capitalism
death of democracy
extinction of environment
when does the world finally end,
shrivel and crumble into oblivion?
how many more romanticized issues
will dance before you?
or beautiful tragedies?
do your sense the turmoil in tajikistan?
are those images of istanbul enough to move you?
how many more docu-dramas do you have to watch
before your lazy crocodile tears stop coming at all -
when you can stand up and walk away,
as you always have,
but now, not even weep for your own selfish inaction
jaded to stimulation, to manipulation, to desperation
to everything
it's all playing on the world stage
but there's no audience to watch
we've all disappeared into our phony american-sold dream
the perfect suburbia, where i don't know your name
wait
i know it
but i don't care what it is
you, neighbour, with your white picket jail cell,
cold wife, and hateful, rebellious children
but you are just as lazy and actionless
complacent and content with mediocracy
operating at a deficit
depleting the ozone
clubbing seals
and stealing ivory
we are a tortured existence,
the dream we've made our lives
this inescapable falsehood
but no one does anything to stop the final bell toll
we're living in the silence before the storm,
the space between atoms of dirty water for
AIDS ridden, oppressed and destitute in war torn Africa
just laugh nervously
it's all a bad, uncomfortable joke
no one told it, no one heard it
just like the cries for help
or the pleas for compassion
or the conscience
the world exists only when you want it to
and for you these things are just
mindless banter from some christ pedlar
so tuck yourself into your nice bed,
covered with sheets a child made for $0.03
and sleep peacefully

Revelation

Have you ever had a revelation?
It's like waking up to a new day,
but it can happen when you're not sleeping.
It's like blinking intentionally to make sure
that what you're looking at now isn't a figment
of your wild imagination.
It's suddenly realizing a truth,
that may have always existed in the universe
but did not necessarily exist to you.
Revelations about other people are interesting.
Sometimes, your revelations about other people
take you out of yourself, and put you outside
so that you can see your friends, and your family,
and your randomly acquired acquaintances
from a different perspective.
Admittedly, sometimes that means taking off those
rose coloured glasses.
A revelation can not in itself be good or bad.
It is knowledge. It is truth.
Like any other time in your life,
it is what you do with the information,
not the information itself.
Be open to them, and if you have one,
be grateful.

I admit

90% of the wealth of the world is controlled by 10% of the population.
I am very concerned.

though.........................I love mousse especially when there's whipped cream on top.

and......................I am the one who took this picture.

critisise me, hippies.

Calvopolis

GIJOE

If this isn't GI JOE
Then its Starship Troopers for sure
That jaw could crush coconuts
And dig that beret to one side
Kudos Soldier

say what you mean

Look at us...we're looking at you! Everybody...wave to the new world order!

Monsters

remember the monsters from under your bed
the ones whose voices were trapped in your head?
they hid in the darkness, sprawled out on the floor
they hid in the space behind the closet door
you're safe as long as you stay under the sheet
with this to protect you, you'll never have to meet
the gruesome ugly face of the demons below
who feed on your nightmares, and with fear, grow
so cuddle up, warm, beneath those soft linens
whenever the creepy noises begin and
think happy thoughts to push them away
you just have to make it to the light of the day
but when the night seems to go on forever
just call me, i'll come, and we'll fight them together

Change

I was talking to someone at work today who had some interesting things to say. His thoughts and ideas seemed to jive. He talked of great change in our lifetime. Positive change, possibly a result of negative events. He talked of 'indigo children' and their increase in numbers over the past couple of decades. He spoke of the fall of traditional religions and materialism/consumerism, with a new kind of spiritualism(call it Love if you don't like this term), rising up from the ashes.
I was amazed when I heard this because it corresponded so well with my own beliefs and feelings, and those of the people around me. Perhaps there is a shift occuring, perhaps there are growing numbers of people in this world who want to break out of this shell that we all seem to be in. Perhaps the tidal wave of change is upon us. We can only hope that this feeling, this idea, will continue to grow. That people will continue to show up in our lives at just the right times, when the exchange between us seems to fit so well with everything.
So let us change, and accept that we are part of the great process. Let us ease ourselves into the flow and become more in tune with the natural rhythym of the universe. I am sure it will take us where we need to go.

Avery and The Print Shop

One day there was a Boy
He landed a job at a printing press
It would later be hijacked by bandits in the night
Clad in ski masks and fine tuxedos
The revolution would eventually commandeer the press
For the sake of truthseekers
Fiction and non
20 000 copies in black and white
10 pages each
With everything you always wanted to say to your boss
And more
Handed out for free
By the good people that brought you Counter Mag

Hoovers, Jehova and The Inside Job

In a blind dash to the kingdom finish line
It was second place for the sweating dead duck
As the dawn was setting over everything big
Where everyone’s a millionaire
And Hoover vacuums stay full of Persian feline fur
All year long
It’s not the hair
It’s the dander that makes your eyes water
Your nose drip
And your throat burn with an itch that can’t be scratched
Cough, cough
Aren’t you going to answer that?
That million dollar question
The truth
Also known as
Whatever you must be hiding in that box
The key to salvation that you fumble drunkenly
Was stolen from the pocket on your ass
The thief cut a duplicate and waited
When vacation season rang about
Ten of them walked right in
But with a twist of irony and a splash of fate
There you were to be found
Holding the door for the big exit
With a guilty smile and a tax-free tenth of the pie
Who knew that you were also for hire
As a getaway driver too

Exposed

7 World Trade Center was a 47-story steel-framed skyscraper that stood across the street from the rest of the WTC complex. It was not hit by any plane and collapsed at approximately 5:20 p.m. EDT on the evening of Sept 11, 2001.

The government agencies housed at 7 World Trade Center were the United States Secret Service, the Department of Defense, the Immigration and Naturalization Service, the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC), the Mayor's Office of Emergency Management, the Internal Revenue Service Regional Council (IRS), and the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA). In May 2002, the Federal Emergency Management Agency of the United States (FEMA) released a report on the collapse. “Loss of structural integrity was likely a result of weakening caused by fires on the 5th to 7th floors. The specifics of the fires in WTC 7 and how they caused the building to collapse remain unknown at this time. Although the total diesel fuel on the premises contained massive potential energy, the best hypothesis has only a low probability of occurrence. Further research, investigation, and analyses are needed to resolve this issue.”

On July 22, 2004, the 9/11 Commission Report was released, but made no mention of 7 World Trade Center.

On April 5, 2005, NIST released its report on 1 WTC and 2 WTC. [4] On June 20, 2005, NIST asserted in a press release that its report on 7 World Trade Center would be released "at a later date."

In a PBS documentary America Rebuilds, which aired in September 2002, Larry Silverstein, the lease holder for Building Seven and insurance policy holder for the World Trade Center Complex, was quoted during the film as he recalled the events of that morning:

I remember getting a call from the Fire Department commander, telling me they were not sure they were gonna be able to contain the fire, and I said, you know, "We've had such terrible loss of life, maybe the smartest thing to do is just pull it." And they made that decision to pull and we watched the building collapse.

Who is the Government protecting?

Steamliner

Last night I drempt that I was one of many survivors from a nuclear submarine destroyed by enemy torpedo. Clinging to life on a piece of floating hull, we were rescued by a steamliner that more resembled a choo-choo train than any boat I'd ever seen. I had to struggle my way onto the passing ship with great effort, and once aboard, I was immediately engaged in a man-to-man battle for male dominance, Roman Wrestling style, with an old acquaintance from my earlier childhood. It ended with me on top, determined to pin this man down, not out of any quest for male dominance, but rather, a desire to see him lose just because he was so fucking sure he was going to win.

Apology

I would personally like to apologise to all you humble people out there for all the times that i have danced.

Number 7

http://news.yahoo.com/s/prweb/20060522/bs_prweb/prweb388743_4

they lie! they lie!

The mirror incorporates the image

Ive realised this

When I look in the mirror it incorporates whatever i want into my self-image
When i am in front of a mirror if im thinking about how good i look, or wether i look bad, then I am installing something into my identity, its like uploading to the server.

If i happen to be smoking, and i look in a reflective surface while i do it, then i am choosing to install at that point that part of me into an identity which i see in the mirror.

If I look in the mirror and I am thinking about sex or something along those lines, then I am installing whatever im thinking into that image.

When im doing something, and then also thinking about what others are thinking about what I am doing, then I am using them as a mirror.

Also, when I meet someone who acts like a mirror for me, I see what I am installing at that point.

Pumpin Gas

My roomate was driving to toronto with a massive hangover. He tells me that he had to pull over on the highway to puke in a bag. When he lifted away the bag he realized that the bag had a hole in it, so he there was a puke all over his pants. So he proceeded to remove them. This didnt help when he ran out of gas, and had to fill up in his birthday suit. Apparantly the 16 year old gas service attendent was uncomfortable when he had to pay.

Along this Sometimes Warm and Open Road

These days so warm and now
parading softly as we sleep
along this open road.
We seem so very free-
and always very sure-
that moments are the flowers,
then they're gone...
and churchbells call our thoughts away
and chimneys ask us smoky questions why?
and then we think so carefully,
about that open sky...
The spirit now is in our eyes
I feel a peace a thousand miles long
searching-as we pick the flowers trying
to reach the sky.

These days so warm and now
so fresh and new and warm
lined with changes of the heart
and as we changed we very often bled
along this open road.
and you were always up ahead
or never very far
but still I sometimes feel alone!
along this sometimes empty fight
of being fully grown.

These days so warm and now
they wander so mysteriously?
singing in the mornings as they rise-
singing all the strength of something new-
singing all the love I feel for you.
dancing to the sound
the darkness often makes,
and dancing to the little things we think of
when we wake,
You're beauty on this road of human minds
Unique in how you bow before the magic
of the sun...

These days so warm and now
we hardly see them passing with the crowd,
along this road of soft parades
you're never very far.

Something

I can see
so clearly
that glorious gaze
that rises up
just behind the eyes

that childlike trust
the incredible longing
a spirit rich and wise

together we find a safe place
leading eachother bravely
to where we both must go

something in the dancing and the
knowing sets us free

something in the silent sharing
grows and touches me

deep within the truth and pain
connection makes us whole again

Kickin coons with a hard-on

My roomate was trying to make love to his girlfriend for their first time, but was interrupted by racoons fighting outside his tent. So he kept having to go out, and chase them off. He say's "I had to go out and chase them away and get back inside before mr. happy went away."

My favorite 8 words

I don't know why I am telling you this ...

sleep

there is nothing as forgiving as sleep
it waits for you
no matter how long you have been awake
and it judges not.
noone loves like sleep
when im with her
i lose my identity.
and finally, without sleep
i would never know when
im awake.

Great Grandma’s Place

Uncle sam on a two inch toffee bar
Elvis Presley on a postage stamp
An old lady cleans her spoon collection
Painted eyebrows, sunken face
With Javex bleach wafting across linoleum floors
Lifting wallpaper from its glue
Mixing with the egg smells from a dripping faucet
Drip
A 50 year mortgage in the mail
Sitting by the window to your view
Plus interest
Refinery smokestacks looming over swings on a playground
This is the right neighborhood
Block parents and waiting for the post man
Picnic blankets on a corner lot
Sprinklers and dandelions
Privacy fence, privacy fence!
One pension
At two cigarettes per hour

köch

Dear Freud
Am I writing this poem
because when I was a child
my perverse infantile sexuality
was smothered by society?
what about you
what you hiding?
a dirty dream?
Justified a love
for your mother
and a hate for
your father and
you want to fuck
your sister and
kill your brother?
Id ego Superego
Supersexual Perversions
Are you German? are you a Jew?
Allow me to put a label on you.
Invert, Degenerate, Neurotic
You think this poem could be a
Freudian Slip??

par·a·noi·a

par·a·noi·a
n.
1. A psychotic disorder characterized by delusions of persecution with or without grandeur, often strenuously defended with apparent logic and reason.
2. Extreme, irrational distrust of others.



re·li·gion
n.
1. Belief in and reverence for a supernatural power or powers regarded as creator and governor of the universe.
2. A personal or institutionalized system grounded in such belief and worship.
3. The life or condition of a person in a religious order.

schiz·o·phre·ni·a

1. Any of a group of psychotic disorders usually characterized by withdrawal from reality, illogical patterns of thinking, delusions, and hallucinations, and accompanied in varying degrees by other emotional, behavioral, or intellectual disturbances. Schizophrenia is often associated with dopamine imbalances in the brain and defects of the frontal lobe and may have an underlying genetic cause.

Revelation. chapters 10-19.

10: I was in the Spirit on the Lord's day, and I heard behind me a loud voice like a trumpet 11: saying, "Write what you see in a book and send it to the seven churches, to Ephesus and to Smyrna and to Per'gamum and to Thyati'ra and to Sardis and to Philadelphia and to La-odice'a." 12: Then I turned to see the voice that was speaking to me, and on turning I saw seven golden lampstands, 13: and in the midst of the lampstands one like a son of man, clothed with a long robe and with a golden girdle round his breast; 14: his head and his hair were white as white wool, white as snow; his eyes were like a flame of fire, 15: his feet were like burnished bronze, refined as in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of many waters; 16: in his right hand he held seven stars, from his mouth issued a sharp two-edged sword, and his face was like the sun shining in full strength. 17: When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. But he laid his right hand upon me, saying, "Fear not, I am the first and the last, 18: and the living one; I died, and behold I am alive for evermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades. 19: Now write what you see, what is and what is to take place hereafter.

Stoned Recollections

Stoned Recollections #1
Standing on shag carpet, staring through a glass sliding door, I Peered over treetops and low cost housing, on the mid-east side of the City, 3 years and 3000 years ago from today.A weird and yellow nuclear glow radiated from the streetlights and house lights and lights from the cars, it hovered over the city like a space age smog, the age of nuclear still being upon us, twisting our morals and eating at our flesh. Déjà vu is a beautiful thing, for it demonstrates that the mind is eternal. Tonight I sit in front of a monitors glow captured by a world I inhabit every night at no specific time whatsoever, plucking my mind for every idea it can spit out, and through my fingertips I deliver into space and time souvenirs from my inner journey. I weave in and out of consciousness, back and forth at will, dancing with words and flirting with the memories of feelings. Rocking in my chair, I am stoned on pot.

Stoned Recollections #2
Standing between two sets of doors, avoiding the winter wind, I light the pipe of freedom after a mind numbing A.M. spent sitting in a classroom.The photocopy machine stood unplugged, begging me to turn it on (so I did) to print off my anti-establishment propaganda, urging the youth to support the legalization of cannabis, to aid in the coming spiritual revolution about to refresh our tainted ways.The maintenance staff couldn’t take the posters down as fast as I could put them up, but the students could. They didn’t last long on the walls, but they made it into a hundred lockers easily. It worked.“I WANT YOU” to roll a joint, is what it said, like an army recruitment poster of old, rounding up the young and enlisting them into a formidable force of peacemakers, with a passion for goodness and a love for the sweet leaf (life).

The World Is Flat...

The World is Flat
And I have proof
For here, in the picture below
You can clearly see two travellers
About to reach the end
Of planet Earth
Look For yourself...

Joyous realizations of life on easy street...

Timing is everything
There is no high like this high. You scour the drugstores, spending your twilight hours bumping into like-minded souls who want only to find something that works faster. The morning slides sloppily into frame each day, as if it were poorly drawn on some warped overhead projector. And all things, instead of themselves, represented by their particles and the symbols used to make them easy. I have been wondering about it. I have been sitting in the isles eyeballing the components, wondering what’s to mix and what’s not to. Surely something must work. Surely the whole world does not sleep to spite a pitiful few. I have been wondering about many things. I have been thinking of you.We two are here on this island. We two, despite our lack of smarts, should have known better. We will struggle to find a way to escape this. Perhaps we will find it. There is no high like this high. I am better for having been here. The question is you.
I have been told that I am missed. I have been told that I have become unentertaining in my old age. The difference between these two statements is that the latter is a common one amongst those who procure such journals as this to pore over various accounts of the fire-breathing sheepdogs and gibbons that I have trained in hopes of cornering the transcontinental personal courier market. The first I simply said to myself.Is there a point to it all? A question for a million years, a million prior, and for all mankind unanswerable. As for these things, well, I used to believe that the benefit of the doubt was something that hope created simply to humour us into thinking that a commonality existed between all people. Arrogance exists when the presumption of greatness exceeds empathy, transforming the much touted principles of individualism into the creation of solitary existences. Individualism is arrogance in that it creates a void between individuals attempting to bridge the gaps between themselves. To possess uniqueness is useless without first having someone to share it with and, secondly, having the ability to appreciate it in others. But we have never been exposed to the factors of a divided existence. Until now, that is. We find ourselves in an era of absolute solitude, a state of being that has transformed individuality into something that no longer possesses the qualities of self-assurance and self-dignity. Instead it is something that is thrown about by people in an attempt to disguise their need for something altogether terrifying. The realization that others are needed to fill the gaps in themselves. In ages past this realization was quite clearly understood by most. Convenience has seen to it that the human infrastructure will be made to suffer in the wake of its own desire to be more expediently and easily catered to.
We are used. We are a society of used individuals who are coddled by the warm radiation of television and the voyeuristic thrills of cyberspace. We exist in a vacuum that has taught our children to complain about the rights of the individual while instilling in them the need to consume, to achieve, to dominate. This occurs because we are on top of our game. It occurs because, beyond us, there is nothing save the view. Just the cheap seats to look upon and utilize for our own ends. My running shoes were manufactured in Pakistan by an eleven-year-old. An eleven-year-old who supposedly cares for nothing save the company’s new air-flow system and whether or not it will help propel me to greatness as I dart from my apartment to my car, late as usual. The naïve have always believed that simple solutions exist to deter such things in our nature. Whether they be socialistic views or those of the extreme right, most fail to realize that the drug of power is stronger than good intentions. It matters little what you call it—capitalism, socialism, communism, democracy, gods and goddesses. It has been said that absolute power corrupts absolutely. If so, then a little corruption must go a long way. The danger inherent in believing yourself to be beyond corruption is that you must first believe that, given the opportunity, you could do better. This is impossible, of course, as absolute power corrupts absolutely, leaving a little to go a long way. Therefore, realizing that there is nothing to be done about it, it leaves your skin feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. Try some and you’ll agree, there’s no better brand than the one that was handmade by Chilean craftsmen from herbs and flowers grown on the slopes of the Andes. We have been lying to ourselves and getting away with it nicely. And so we should be. Welcome to the new world. Made in China for twenty-six percent less than we originally paid to have it produced in Pittsburgh. We hope you like it.
Everything Is Timing
I woke up this morning, it’s been difficult as of late. I am convinced that I have been infected with an incurable malady. Everyone tells me that I am imagining it. So I have stopped listening.
I’ve taken to wandering my house in a three-piece suit, waiting for the doorbell to ring. I will be ready when they come for me. I have been ready for weeks. I have come to realize that if you spend enough time watching things that would have otherwise gone unnoticed, you will begin to realize that you are the keeper of a terrible secret.
Yourself.

Kings Of Fear

They think they have us...
They don't own our souls...
Tonight we break from this prison...
1,2,3, and over the high walls...
Where words will raze this penitentiary
To the Ground...

falling victim to the first

what a fool i have been,
to think i have eaten a fruit,
only i could name.
and to think that it is better
than any other.
this neutonian dysfunction,
has gone on for too long now.
seaking pleasure without pain,
praying for heaven without hell.
as adam, i have been counting atoms,
and almost to late i have realized -
only a fool is a sum of his parts.

The eternal beach fire

When I die
There will be fire.
A bonfire on a beach
Surrounded by chairs
With cold beers and
The sound of waves
I will sit there
Listening to any old ghost,
Who wanders along.
Just sitting and talking
Maybe some guitar playing.
So, if you happen to wake
One night on a beach
Around a fire that never ends
Grab a seat, warm your feet,
And we’ll talk like we’re old friends

between friends.

You’re so lucky you are so peaceful
Desperately unflattering for me
given the past that brought you here
resilience.
She took a cigarette
Inhaled deeply
The really big question is….
I know, I know…but why?
However brilliant
Death
However genuine
Death
However free
Death
However, it only awaits one fate
Bloody marvelous
Let’s keep it real
Might even drink to this
Or because of this
We laughed
Your thoughts spoil me
We didn’t even hear the phone ring

Once, the senses did fail me

Lovejust burns me around the edges first sending my sense into a whirlwind of fascinating feelings *smells* of warm crushed pecans foreshadowing where my heart will be when my thoughts dull my innermost dreams and hopes for this ride to last forever *sights* of gleaming teeth no longer hiding behind two pink lips of sugar so mouthwatering and soft as they once did before this delusional episode of paranoia began *smells* of creamy ivory skin so close to me my tongue need barely move to *taste* that the smell is just a lie to cover the bitter that lay below the surface the *touch* of a hand that once was warm and comforting when my maze of words and pictures spin through my head and I can’t escape now so deep in its journey across my world every inch of my body is black and carbon burned in this a silent second of despair The sense of *hearing* changes my thoughts of all this madness when I hear your voice and you convince me while speaking nothing of the topic that maybe all I need is to hear your mouth words to heal voids that appear in your absence Maybe these senses make no sense I feel sensing my senses fails me when I see, feel, touch, hear and smell your translucent apparition ofTruth.

NEP-TUNE

Tune the fortune
adjust the compatibility
call your bluff
reinvent your personality
this cat has powers
she turns rain into showers
she deletes all of the cowards
teaches lessons of lie down to all the cow herds.

but the rest is history
she is gone forever.
the pain seems mystery.
her life is so totally fucked.

Leaving a stray cat is much harder than leaving a homeless person.
The look in their eyes .....the look in her eyes.

the look in her eyes puts me in a worse position than a Turkish prison.
"Goodbye"
The words are splitting and make me feel like a murder victim.
Curds and wisdom, Thirds and ism.










Neptune is like a Sugar Plantation.
I love Neptune.

Walking with a chicken club at lunch

Walking
Needing
Desiring
To fill a void
For I am not starving
Walking
Needing
Wanting
The melted cheese
The crisp greasy bacon
The flavor
Must wait to get home
NEEDING
It’s so bad and so good
I will feel better after
Once I eat it
I will feel good
I promise
Dinner
The void created must have been bigger today
Wanting
Needing
Wanting MORE!!!
Pizza?

Fall Dollar, Fall (just don't fall on me)

Wholesale prices for consumer goods jumped by almost one percent over April, a reflection of higher shipping costs due to skyrocketing fuel prices. Gas hovers at one dollar per litre and continues its steady rise with the ebb and flow of world terrorism. A plummeting US dollar is the result of a massively reckless spending campaign on account of the Bush administration, not to mention their two illegal wars of conquest. This enormous American debt is held by nervous Asian central banks who are only now starting to ponder dumping the dollar in favor of the more stable Euro. The petrodollar is about to take a nose dive into the the cesspool of man's most failed clever ideas. A dollar backed by oil was a death sentence anyways. We all knew the shit would run out, or choke us to death first. Either way, the housing boom throughout North America was the last breath of air inflating the great bubble we call the United States of America. And now, even housing can't withstand the hurricane-like wrath of bad collective debt and karma. How many trees does a single 5600 square foot home destroy? American households had a negative savings rate in 2005 for the first time since the Great Depression. The Fed raised interest rates for the 16th time, cancelled the data they realease on the volume of dollars printed and signaled that the Bushites are none too concerned about a weaker dollar, given the fact that their trade deficit is currently 6% of GDP. This tower will be much harder to bring down than the two towers so perfectly demolished in New York City nearly5 years ago. As soon as one realizes that the Fed is engineering a dollar decline, one might sell, sell, sell. The only regime change about to occur is the almighty dollar into the newly unified Euro. Why such lust after gold?

The Cosmic Joke

“The rocket bombs which fell daily on London were probably fired by the government of Oceania itself, 'just to keep the people frightened'.”

Ten Cents Per Minute

21 Things I Want in a Lover

Do you derive joy when someone else succeeds?
Do you not play dirty when engaged in competition?
Do you have a big intellectual capacity? but know that it alone does not equate wisdom?

Do you see everything as an illusion? but enjoy it even though you are not of it?
Are you both masculine and feminine? politically aware? and don't believe in capital punishment?

Do you derive joy from diving in and seeing that loving someone can actually feel like freedom?
Are you funny? a la self-deprecating? like adventure? and have many formed opinions?

Are you uninhibited in bed? more than 3 times a week? up for being experimental?
Are you athletic?
Are you thriving in a job that helps your brother?
Are you not addicted?

Are you curious and communicative?


-------

Keeper of the Dark

in the field of mist and murk
beyond the cattails, high and crying
there stood a figure to seeth and lurk
while human dreams lay round him, dying
why cast such ugly black eyed stares
into a sea of tarnished hopes?
wherein these fragile, sacred cares
are drowned in sorrow, bound in ropes
cloak of darkness, soul like night
he staggers with his unearthly brood
collecting bones to feed his plight
and keep him in a shadowed mood
skin burned by heavenly constellations
he picks the stars out of the sky
and casts them, with anticipation
right into hell, where they might die
a solemn duty is his to bear
to strip all human hearts of awe
and ever after he must forswear
all evil deeds he heard or saw
and in his unwanted realm of weeping
where angels fear, and demons creep
he'll never rest between his reaping
for dante's soul cannot find sleep
the ghost who haunts the mind so weary
brews nighttime fears and frightening scenes
finds no respite from his conscience dreary
nor the perpetual shriek of his hand made screams

GOD?

Through God
From God
To God
For God
By God
With God
Over God
Under God
In God
Behold
God is
God was
God will be
And the Godless
All things
Forever
All men

Tear This Bitch Down! (calvin-style)

Ugh.
Commuter
Puke.





Oceans of liquidity and foreclosure


Ouch, I mean... Thanks mom for the surplus
Housing.

Sweet Jesus, not a white picket fence, arthrtitic poodle and a daughter on LSD


Tear This Bitch Down...at least somebody will have to

The bees will revolt
The Queen is dead...

Friends and Lovers

What is really important in this life? The older I get and the more experiences I have seems to make the answer all the more clear. It's human relationships, pure and simple. It's what makes life worth living. Those mutual tingles that occur when we really connect with someone, when we really love someone. A connectivity that can't be described, can't be classified, can't be analyzed. A realization that there are other people in this world who give a shit, who care about how your day went. People who want to share the joys and struggles of this life with you. People who share the common knowledge that we're here and not really sure why, but that at least we're here together. Take care of those relationships in your life. Treasure them, nourish them, cherish them. They are the real diamonds of our existence. So keep on relating, keep on loving, and together we just might get through this.




Counter Mag

I AM

this world is my cross to bear
i do it for you
and for you too
pain is but indigo to the spectrum
your soul is the prism
mine is the white light shining through
who am i?

Too Beautiful....

Maybe you are just too beautiful....to be JUST beautiful.

or maybe its the night. It pushes me too forwards.
2 thousand and six and a bit.


air o planes in thine air.
air - o - space

anchor,
Calvin .

Paradox

Any comments on this post are false

Waking Dream

this waking dream
from which so few will ever truly awaken
marvelled by colours and prisms
shapes and shadows
these ficticious characters who play their roles
born inside a universe within your mind
dance to the music of your beating heart
rendered still in moments of silence
how many dreams are we a part of?
for you must be in mine, and i in yours
inside of you i dwell
inside a universe within your mind
in a waking dream

More of a Comment but I Wish We Would Forget about God

God creates horrible things to test our faith?
So god This guy with immense powers to create a immensely complicated universe main concern is that we believe in him, and if we do we go to heaven.

Who believes this shit?

How did it even come about?
Maybe a long time ago someone, who probably wasn't happy, tried to think of a reason why we were here since he was such a loser couldn't find a reason in those around him. He needed to find acceptance from a divine being instead of who mattered the people around him.
Or maybe the mystery of the natural world was too much. Someone needed to to know it was being controlled.
Or maybe somebody was just thinking creatively. Philosophizing about life.
But the overall point is someone created this idea of gods. It's our own invention.

One of the main arguments is consciousness. I don't dispute consciousness. I can feel a connectedness. I don't though feel a need to give credit of this to a god. I simply go on enjoying all the feelings that conscious seems to bring us.

Questions that I'd like to know are.
What made you believe in god?
Do you believe in god or do you know there is a god?
Does your belief in god effect your every day life?
Do you believe in god because you fear death?
Does your belief in god make you fear death?
Are you afraid not to believe?
If you met someone who had the power of god and had his own little earth and ran it the same time, you know in his spare time, would you want to be his friend?

To make it clear I don't believe in god. I don't consider it. I never have in my life. I realized a few years ago people actually believed and it freaked me out. Don't worry if you do believe I still love you.

If there was a god I'd spit in his face.

Overcoming the Fear

" If a God exists, he must be an exceedingly cruel monster of a God. There couldn't be a spiritual reality operating here! How could there be? Look at the world. What kind of God would design such a devastating place where children die horribly by earthquakes and senseless crimes and starvation, when restaurants toss out tons of food every day? Although, perhaps that's the way it's supposed to be. Perhaps that's God's plan. Maybe the 'end times' scholars are correct. They think life and history are all just a test of faith to see who will win salvation and who won't, a divine plan to destroy civilization in order to separate the believers from the wicked."paragraph from The Tenth Insight by James Redfield

It is still a beautiful world.

Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
Be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantmentit is as perennial as the grass.Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.

Secession Man Reveals His True Identity

"Who gets Ontario?"

extra extra.

Looks like someone finally made a diagram of "how to find the universal g-spot". Sounds like there's nothing more to worry about folks. Now, just follow these simple instructions and we'll all be enlightened in no time. ;)

Divine Strake

For those of you who may not have heard our neighbors to the South are up to their old tricks again and this time it's looking to be 'hot war' as opposed to a cold one. Nuclear bombs+the Nevada desert+George Dubya = Divine Strake. 'Divine' well that's obviously because god could of course only be on their side - who else could he chose to be on then the good old U.$.A. Now for those of you who don't know a strake is something you stamp thinks down into a mold with (you really can't make this shit up) - and there are lots to chose from terrorists, citizens, members of some evil axis type organization - really take your pick.

"Will residents of Las Vegas be seeing a mushroom cloud over their city next month?

As I write this, "Divine Strake," the big bang with the macabre and vaguely blasphemous name (the military-industrial complex is playing God again), has been postponed from June 2 to June 23, thanks to legal proceedings against the Defense Threat Reduction Agency and the National Nuclear Security Administration, related to unanswered environmental-impact questions. Maybe the delay will be enough of a wedge to allow the passionately bitter opponents of the blast - and they are legion - to build the necessary momentum to stop it altogether.

I hope so. Nothing good can come of this retempting of fate, this re-engaging of the human-annihilation machine known as the U.S. nuclear weapons program. Divine Strake is not itself a nuclear blast, but it's so big that many observers "have said that the new test is simply an attempt to defy the congressional ban and advance Defense Department research into nuclear weapons," according to the Las Vegas Sun. Specifically, it's seen as a covert way for the government to research the killed-in-Congress Robust Nuclear Earth Penetrator, a.k.a., the bunker buster."

With neighbors like this who needs enemies.

Ben

Boom, Bust and Echo

5 to 1?
Well, I don’t argue that
Rats to righteous
They’ve gt the guns
And the numbers too
So let them settle into it
A 5000 square foot grave
5 to 1?
Debt to wealth ratio perhaps
Five times the waist size
Washed up
Chicken scratch identities
5 to 1?
Fears over truth?
I see what’s happening here
Deficit children
Ten brothers and sisters
Bottomless wallets and an IOU
5 to 1?
The fucking party is over
Maybe you flashed that peace sign
What a laugh
V for Victory was
Respecting Winston Churchill
5 to 1?
Shivers to smiles?
Elders to young
Oh my, how the tables did turn
Feeding time was a squander
Feeding on your children
5 to 1?
Regrets to accomplishments?
You fucking bet
Conceal that grey hair
And lift that sagging face
5 to 1 says its coming after you
What?
Communism?
No
Consequence says
This Boom is a fucking Bust...

Red right ankle

"Red Right Ankle"


This is the story of your red right ankle
And how it came to meet your leg
And how the muscle bone and sinews tangled
And how the skin was softly shed
And how it whispered,
"Oh, adhere to me for we are bound by symmetry
And whatever differences our lives have been
We together make a limb"
This is the story of your red right ankle

This is the story of your gypsy uncle
You never knew cause he was dead
And how his face was carved an ripped with wrinkles
In the picture in your head
And remember how you found the key
To his hide-out in the Pyrenees,
But you wanted to keep his secret safe,
So you threw the key away?
This is the story of your gypsy uncle

This is the story of the boys who loved you
Who love you now and loved you then
And some were sweet and some were cold and snuffed you
And some just layed around in bed
And some, they crumbled you straight to your knees
Did it cruel, did it tenderly
Some they crawled their way into your heart
To rend your ventricles apart
This is the story of the boys who loved you
This is the story of your red right ankle

Song by the decemberists

Trident Fury Fascismo

SIDNEY, B.C. (CP) - The first surface-to-air missile tests on Canada's West Coast are part of the massive Trident Fury military exercise underway off Vancouver Island.
The 11-day exercise involves 55 warplanes from Canada, the United States and Britain, as well as six warships and about 2,000 soldiers, sailors and air crews.
Commodore Bruce Donaldson, the commander of Canada's Pacific Fleet, says while there are risks because it's a dangerous business, safety is a primary concern.
He says the launches will involve Sea Sparrow missiles fired from Canadian frigates at unmanned targets being towed over the Pacific about 40 to 60 kilometres west of Vancouver Island.
While ships fire at aerial targets, warplanes will strafe floating targets and deal with airborne threats.
Capt. Damian Unrau, a 31-year-old CF-18 pilot based at Cold Lake, Alta., said Trident Fury will be a lot of fun.
He said he's eager to mix it up with American F-15s, "getting into a dogfight and doing what we have to do to survive."
Trident Fury, which began Monday, is scheduled to run until May19.

The Fat Years Are Over

They dress up in pink catsuits, have names like Spider Mum and feel a social obligation to plunder as part of a campaign to help the poor.
Last week the well-heeled citizens of Hamburg’s Altona district got a taste of their antics when 30 of them marched into the city’s luxury “Fresh Paradise Goedeken” supermarket and walked out five minutes later with €15,000 (£10,000) worth of stolen goods.
The gang’s booty included magnums of Champagne at €99 a bottle, filets of Japanese Kobe beef at €108 a kilogram, legs of venison, a salmon and several boxes of Valrhona chocolate.
Before leaving, gang members thrust a bouquet of flowers into the hands of a shop assistant. Attached was a handwritten note which proclaimed: “Survival in the city of millionaires would be impossible without us!” It was signed by “Spider Mum”, “Santa Guevara” and “Multiflex”.
Another note later released by the gang insisted that the haul had been distributed to Hamburg’s needy, to the “social workers, cleaning ladies and minimum-wage earners”. It added: “The places of wealth in this town are as numerous as the opportunities to take it.”
“It was a well-planned robbery,” Carsten Sievers, the store’s manager, said on Friday last week. “Somebody had obviously been in the shop before the main contingent arrived and had already filled up several shopping trolleys.”
Fourteen squad cars and a police helicopter scoured the Altona district for more than an hour after the robbery, but failed to find the perpetrators.“The gang covered its tracks completely. They act like professionals,” Bodo Franz, the head of a Hamburg police unit investigating the robbery, said.
As they left the scene of the robbery, the gang, clad in masks, catsuits, dark glasses and rubber masks, posed for a group photo outside the supermarket and brandished their booty in front of the camera.
The incident was the latest attack perpetrated by this Robin Hood-style gang of so-called “Spontis”, whose activities have alarmed and baffledthe Hamburg police and the city’s well-to-do. Yet the gang, which refers to itself as “Hamburg for Free”, does not strike often. Its last attack took place almost exactly a year ago, when 40 masked men and women stormed the Süllberg restaurant in the city’s wealthy Blankenese district overlooking the river Elbe.
Diners were appalled as the gang snatched titbits from the plates in front of them and started stuffing the stolen food into their mouths. Other gang members brandished a huge knife and fork made out of silver foil and cardboard above the diners’ heads. A placard declaring “The fat years are over” was strung between pillars in the restaurant.
Mr Franz, who has been trying to track down the “Hamburg for Free” gang since the incident a year ago, said that investigators had merely established that the group was probably made up of a mixture of students and anarchists.
“We don’t know much about them. They are very political yet one of their main motives is fun,” he said. “The problem is that they strike so rarely and so professionally that they are a major job to catch.”

One.

There was a cherry tree.
Its bloomy snows Cool even now the fevered sight that knows
No more its airy visions of pure joy
As when you were a boy.
There was a cherry tree.
The Bluejay sat His blue against its white
O blue as jet He seemed there then!
But now Whoever knew He was so pale a blue!

There was a cherry tree
our child eyes saw The miracle
Its pure white snows did thaw Into a crimson fruitage,
far too sweet But for a boy to eat.

There was a cherry tree, give thanks and joy!
There was a bloom of snow
There was a boy
There was a bluejay of the realest blue

And fruit for both of you.

Poetry by James Whitcomb Riley
Photograph by. Michael G. Magin

Capital Punishment

how does the circle think its a sphere,
a flat man elevated,
a one-sided pyramid?
by painting others colors
red green blue
while black is left for you
i am the addition, not the subtraction
the dark gap mends
when the white light bends -
reflection without refraction.

4 Cures For Negativity

Onomatoprison Cycle

Hiccup
click
bang
thud
squish
zap
bonk
that’s it, you’re going to jail buddy
ping-pong
ding-dong
back to your cell
tick-tock
tick-tock
poof
rehabilitated?

Old Fallen Soldier

You shot yourself in the foot
You valiant man
Go ahead son
Take up arms for peace
They'll never think to catch you
If you wave their flag
So you wrapped your selfsustained injury with it
To stop your freedom from bleeding to death
At least that's what you told your kids
When you drank your sorry ass to sleep each night

Anger

Uh-Oh

The over-protective mother

This piece of art is aptly named "Evil." It was painted by Marti Klarwein, for Miles Davis, who requested that he paint evil as a toad. Klarwein painted a toad-like J. Edgar Hoover in drag.

To me it is reminiscent of an over-protective mother. One who requests that you do 'unspeakable' things, in the name of Love.

Her voice sounds to me like the most horribly frightening thing that crawled from the depths of my mind.

It is the voice of a re-occuring dream, the product of a mountain yelling at a stream.
an electric cheese-grader shredding a dead dog.

I hear it sometimes, and it makes my skin crawl, I look for something to counteract the approaching insanity.

The overprotective mother tells me "If you love me you won't leave me."
She makes me feel guilty for turning my back.

The overprotective mother is so afraid of her own death, and it makes me afraid of mine.
The overprotective mother is the superego of society.
It is the fear of death of society.

Look at her! Shes fuckin Evil.

Sweet dreams

EQUATION OF TIME

What time is it in Greenwich
Does anybody know?



If the past is but a skewed memory,
And the present cannot be attained,
And the future does not yet exist,
What time is it in Greenwich again?

What are they searching for?

What are they searching for?
Fear, a self destructing tool that we have created. Have we forgotten what we are living for? Are we only more aware of what we are trying to avoid? We are not supposed to be looking…this is why they can never find it. People so concerned with what others have rolled on the dice they forget to move their own piece. Collecting these colourful bills in hopes of a dream, a miracle, an awakening? Here, LOOK, I have all of this! Give me that, will this make me happy? They look into the eyes of a store clerk like a child looks into the eyes of their mother searching for love. Anger and more fear develop when the search is unsuccessful yet again. They know of no other way, no other choice. Something has gone terribly wrong. Will the birds refuse to sing soon? These people need non-judgmental justice; they need love, compassion and understanding, for they are afraid of what they think they are not. Every passing minute is just another chance to turn it all around. The universal smile, the one that connects and warms us all. The world moves for love. Hope, fears only enemy. We can wake these people up and break them down to the things they never thought they could be. Life is only a hassle and a struggle for those with souls searching for something that they will never be able to find, because it is not something that can be found, it is something that must be embraced, but is also something that cannot be seen, one must believe and imagine that when they do embrace it…it will be there. It’s not about what you have to show, it is about who you are, who you can become, the people you can connect with and the learning and growing that can help improve your life and the lives around you. Something needs to change, and something will, because as long as we have uncontrollable tingles, the feeling of bare feet in the sand, the sensation of rain on the skin, laughing that makes your cheeks hurt, singing, skipping and pancakes, we have a soul that is content, one not looking and one that is able to help all the others who are still searching.

Conversation

Conversation

who are you talking to?
hmm? nobody?
oh.
umm... myself?
so you're crazy?
i must be. i'm the only one who listens anymore.
why?
why what? The world is too full of nobodies already.
what are you talking about?
see, already not listening. it's not always the words moron.
you're too hung up on the words passing between us.
but what of body language, and intonation, and the look
in my eyes? read between the fucking lines, buddy.
i'm so lost right now.
yeah? welcome to my world.
can't you help me understand?
no.
why not?
why? why? why? so many goddam fucking questions.
i don't see what i have done to deserve this.
i haven't said anything to offend you.
you are offensive.
well, thank you. you're making this much better.
hey, don't get coy. it's not my job to lick your wounds.
if you didn't want to be here then you shouldn't have come.
i don't even know where i am.
ha ha.
why is that funny?
because you think there is someplace to be.
isn't there?
it's all the same nowhere.
well that's uplifting.
don't be a smartass.
you have a wonderful outlook on life.
is that so? i've always been told that i am a depressing sonuvabitch.
i guess the wind is changing.
that's what i meant.
the wind is changing?
no, that you're depressing.
well gosh man, say what you mean. we're not all magicians here.
i can't read your fucking mind.
you're the one who just said to read between the lines!?!?
yes, because the space between my lines is meaningful, but yours...
well, yours is filled with bullshit.
thank you.
glad i could be of some assistance.
you haven't been, actually.
hey, don't get mad at me. you're the one who interrupted the lunatic in the corner who was quite content talking to himself.
i won't make that mistake again, sir. my apologies.

One Night Stand

One night stand

warm bodies not love
someone to get off with
someone to placate your cravings
just feeding the carnal beast
how empty, how wanton
get lost inside your body
let the sexual sensations
make the world go away
your brain can shut off
and you can finally sleep
in the short interlude
while you can't remember
how lonely
and unsatisfying
this is
but it's alright
just give it some more
there are so many other
lost and lonely
sitting in bars, drinking their lives away
waiting for some stranger to help them
temporarily fill the void

There's a big dick...

There's a big dick that is the voice behind razor and car commercials
It ejaculates and postulates the definitive man
Gutter voice that spits and speaks in tongues
seven tongues, and seven blades on each tongue
and seven easy steps to sexual domination.
it starts with a caress of the cheek.
But like you really care about foreplay anyway.

With your brand new ego 2000, you can drive down thighs,
wind along curves, streamline through pussy scent -
with the top down, you dont have to be reminded
of your marketable instinctual impulses.
With your razor and your car you can rule the world
if you buy them it will make your penis bigger
and then you can dump the hot chicks
because your gasoline-testosterone fueled erection
is too good for them anyways.

Shit, with 4 wheel drive
you can drive through a whole field of pussy
and come out emotionally clean on the other side.
Does that sound like a good deal or what?

Getting To Know You

Look into the mirror, that’s who you are
Three second segments of marketing genius
That’s who you are
Put on your high fashion and dance the contemporary
Adjust your posture, color your hair
That’s who you are
Reserve a table for two at shame
Subscribe to the bible of beauty
That’s who you are
Speak with an accent from the north of pretension
But do it so they hear you trying
Paint your face with cosmetic confidence
Sing loudly out of place
And try not to be noticed
That’s who you are
Masturbate in privacy, bully in public
Shoot another ounce, kill the pain
Curse your father and watch your mouth
Look into the mirror
Is that really who you are?

Oxygen (Willy Mason)

LyricsSong: OxygenArtist: Willy MasonI wanna be better than oxygenSo you can breathe when you're drowning and weak in the kneesI wanna speak louder than RitalinFor all the children who think that they've got a diseaseI wanna be cooler than t.v.For all the kids that are wondering what they are going to beWe can be stronger than bombsIf you're singing along and you know that you really believeWe can be richer than industryAs long as we know that there's things that we don't really needWe can speak louder than ignoranceCause we speak in silence every time our eyes meet.On and on, and on, and on it goesThe world it just keeps spinningUntil i'm dizzy, time to breatheSo close my eyes and start again anew.I wanna see through all the lies of societyTo the reality, happiness is at stakeI wanna hold up my head with dignityProud of a life where to give means more than to takeI wan't to live beyond the modern mentalityWhere paper is all that you're really taught to createDo you remember the forgotten America?Justice, equality, freedom to every race?Just need to get past all the lies and hypocrisyMake up and hair to the truth behind every faceThat look around to all the people you see,How many of them are happy and free?I know it sounds like a dreamBut it's the only thing that can get me to sleep at nightI know it's hard to believeBut it's easy to see that something here isn't rightI know the future looks darkBut it's there that the kids of today must carry the light.On and on, and on, and on it goesThe world it just keeps spinningUntil i'm dizzy, time to breatheSo close my eyes and start again anew.If i'm afraid to catch a dreamI'll weave your baskets and i'll float them down the river streamEach one i weave with words i speak to carry love to your relief.(Part 1 & 2 repeat)

Prologue

A slight incision made into the flesh of modern capitalism reveals a heart weakened by moral ineptitude, turned black by avarice and gluttony with arteries long since clotted on a steady diet of costly, sinful contaminants. The human spirit is crushed and imprisoned by a doctrinal consumption of all things godless and unholy, spreading cancerous lesions throughout our collective passion for human progress, shackling us to an establishment that systematically converts us into debtors. The ‘free West’ is anything but free. This costly experiment called capitalist democracy has not only pushed us to the brink of utter totalitarianism, it has succeeded in destroying a spiritual way of life that has guided humanity throughout its entire history.Like slumbering little slaves we sleepwalk through life unaware of all that surrounds us. This must change at once. We must wake ourselves from the deep sleep we were born into, shed our lust for the physical universe and destroy the ego that separates us from the source of all things. This mission is for change. Political change. Social Change. Environmental change. A change in our very consciousness. This deadly consumer culture being forced upon us is driven by a generation of baby-boomers, aptly named, for they’ve never known anything but the extravagancies of a booming post-war economy. As we, the young people, begin to acquire the legacy left us by our parents, it becomes increasingly obvious that their ‘pursuit of happiness’ long ago morphed into an evil overindulgence that now threatens the future of our generation’s existence.Until now, we’ve been kept in the dark, unaware that we’re about to inherit not wisdom nor solutions to our problems, but debt.As we age, we all begin to search for greater meaning in our lives. We all feel, from time to time, that collective sense of despair for how our world turned out, our childish idealism quickly replaced by growing up, our individuality pulverized into fine dust, our souls sent to the butcher’s block of conformity.If we do not step up and accept the fact that we must quickly organize a counterweight to this reckless consumption, we will all surely perish by our criminal inaction.An organized assault on capitalism is called for, a plan to turn the coming catastrophe into a positive opportunity is needed.We must organize and engage.Cooperation not competition.Passive resistance not war.We’re the last line of defense. We’re the cure to the disease.We’re the engineers to the collapse of this damned awful tyranny.Let us gather now. Let us piss on the ashes of evil, together.