On the last page of the Heart Sutra (Heart of the Perfection of Transcendent Wisdom, Harper Collins, 1942, PG. 66), the Buddha, teaching on Vulture Peak, advises us to "Live fast, die young, and leave a good looking corpse."
As any product of public education and public television I considered myself a Buddhist for most of my young life.
I write to you, friends, strangers, ghosts, to tell you that I find myself, today, incapable of following the Historical Buddha's advice. As of the end of this month, my birthday, I will no longer be capable of "d(ying) young." In the eyes of the law my extended youth ends in a matter of weeks.
Equally problematic: A freak genetic condition of my heel-cords plus corrective surgery rendered me incapable of "liv(ing) fast" since my elementary school days. Unless the word "fast" means immoral or promiscuous, still I can only account for a one year period in-between girlfriends in a city where the trains stop running but the bars stay open. When I wasn't at home staring into the space in and around the refrigerator I was being bullied into a taxi by the last creature left in the bar. And that's not "liv(ing)".
As for a "good looking corpse", I can honestly admit that as I age I grow more and more good looking. That is if I can fight back the skin diseases, lines, and other waiting humiliations. But will my corpse look good? I have no idea. And it is too late, at least, to leave a young looking corpse. At best, I wish someday to leave a confusing looking corpse. One that could dupe thieves into stealing my bones, mistaking them for something else. (See pg. 128, The Brihad A'Ranyaka Upanishad, Random House, 1978)
Because analysts have been telling me since 2007 that "China is the future", I thought very seriously about "living fast, dying old, and leav(ing) a Chinese-looking corpse." And though China may be the future, I thought about the Chinese past, and dreamed my corpse buried amongst armies of terracotta soldiers and enough paper money and paper facsimiles of human souls, to not only pay my way past Yama and the other kings of the dead, but to secure all of my descendants, grandchildren great and small, soul security into any possible future, Chinese or otherwise.
But these Chinese tomb dreams were interrupted by the deregulated realities of the Chinese present. Due to illegal corner cutting and the cutthroat nature of profit, the terracotta soldiers, funerary monies, and paper souls will no doubt be made from used condoms, petroleum, human factory misery, and human hair. (I doubt the kings of the underworld will accept counterfeit souls and money). And the tomb might collapse because of shoddy workmanship, using landfill cardboard instead of cement.
I would like to keep my corpse out of a future where you are either a slave in a funeral paper factory or a dead man in an opulent tomb made of spray-painted gold garbage.
Then how do I plan for the future?
Showing posts with label all in the cemetary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label all in the cemetary. Show all posts
3.05.2011
12.30.2010
KINGDOM OF SHADOWS:
"Last night I was in the Kingdom of Shadows.
If you only knew how strange it is to be there. It is a world without sound, without colour. Every thing there—the earth, the trees, the people, the water and the air—is dipped in monotonous grey. Grey rays of the sun across the grey sky, grey eyes in grey faces, and the leaves of the trees are ashen grey. It is not life but its shadow, It is not motion but its soundless spectre...
...All this is in grey, and the sky above is also grey—
you anticipate nothing new in this all too familiar scene, for you have seen pictures of Paris streets more than once. But suddenly a strange flicker passes through the screen and the picture stirs to life. Carriages coming from somewhere in the perspective of the picture are moving straight at you, into the darkness in which you sit; somewhere from afar people appear and loom larger as they come closer to you; in the foreground children are playing with a dog, bicyclists tear along, and pedestrians cross the street picking their way among the carriages. All this moves, teems with life and, upon approaching the edge of the screen, vanishes somewhere beyond it.
And all this in strange silence where no rumble of the wheels is heard, no sound of footsteps or of speech. Nothing. Not a single note of the intricate symphony that always accompanies the movements of people. Noiselessly, the ashen-grey foliage of the trees sways in the wind, and the grey silhouettes of the people, as though condemned to eternal silence and cruelly punished by being deprived of all the colours of life, glide noiselessly along the grey ground.
Their smiles are lifeless, even though their movements are full of living energy and are so swift as to be almost imperceptible. Their laughter is soundless although you see the muscles contracting in their grey faces. Before you a life is surging, a life deprived of words and shorn of the living spectrum of colours—the grey, the soundless, the bleak and dismal life.
It is terrifying to see, but it is the movement of shadows, only of shadows ... Suddenly something clicks, everything vanishes and a train appears on the screen. It speeds straight at you—watch out!
It seems as though it will plunge into the darkness in which you sit, turning you into a ripped sack full of lacerated flesh and splintered bones, and crushing into dust and into broken fragments this hall and this building, so full of women, wine, music and vice.
But this, too, is but a train of shadows.
Noiselessly, the locomotive disappears beyond the edge of the screen. The train comes to a stop, and grey figures silently emerge from the cars, soundlessly greet their friends, laugh, walk, run, bustle, and ... are gone. And here is another picture. Three men seated at the table, playing cards. Their faces are tense, their hands move swiftly, The cupidity of the players is betrayed by the trembling fingers and by the twitching of their facial muscles, They play ... Suddenly, they break into laughter, and the waiter who has stopped at their table with beer, laughs too. They laugh until their sides split but not a sound is heard. It seems as if these people have died and their shadows have been condemned to play cards in silence unto eternity. Another picture. A gardener watering flowers. The light grey stream of water, issuing from a hose, breaks into a fine spray ...
This mute, grey life finally begins to disturb and depress you. It seems as though it carries a warning, fraught with a vague but sinister meaning that makes your heart grow faint. You are forgetting where you are. Strange imaginings invade your mind and your consciousness begins to wane and grow dim ... "
Maxim Gorky, 1896
HAPPY NEW YEAR
If you only knew how strange it is to be there. It is a world without sound, without colour. Every thing there—the earth, the trees, the people, the water and the air—is dipped in monotonous grey. Grey rays of the sun across the grey sky, grey eyes in grey faces, and the leaves of the trees are ashen grey. It is not life but its shadow, It is not motion but its soundless spectre...
...All this is in grey, and the sky above is also grey—
you anticipate nothing new in this all too familiar scene, for you have seen pictures of Paris streets more than once. But suddenly a strange flicker passes through the screen and the picture stirs to life. Carriages coming from somewhere in the perspective of the picture are moving straight at you, into the darkness in which you sit; somewhere from afar people appear and loom larger as they come closer to you; in the foreground children are playing with a dog, bicyclists tear along, and pedestrians cross the street picking their way among the carriages. All this moves, teems with life and, upon approaching the edge of the screen, vanishes somewhere beyond it.
And all this in strange silence where no rumble of the wheels is heard, no sound of footsteps or of speech. Nothing. Not a single note of the intricate symphony that always accompanies the movements of people. Noiselessly, the ashen-grey foliage of the trees sways in the wind, and the grey silhouettes of the people, as though condemned to eternal silence and cruelly punished by being deprived of all the colours of life, glide noiselessly along the grey ground.
Their smiles are lifeless, even though their movements are full of living energy and are so swift as to be almost imperceptible. Their laughter is soundless although you see the muscles contracting in their grey faces. Before you a life is surging, a life deprived of words and shorn of the living spectrum of colours—the grey, the soundless, the bleak and dismal life.
It is terrifying to see, but it is the movement of shadows, only of shadows ... Suddenly something clicks, everything vanishes and a train appears on the screen. It speeds straight at you—watch out!
It seems as though it will plunge into the darkness in which you sit, turning you into a ripped sack full of lacerated flesh and splintered bones, and crushing into dust and into broken fragments this hall and this building, so full of women, wine, music and vice.
But this, too, is but a train of shadows.
Noiselessly, the locomotive disappears beyond the edge of the screen. The train comes to a stop, and grey figures silently emerge from the cars, soundlessly greet their friends, laugh, walk, run, bustle, and ... are gone. And here is another picture. Three men seated at the table, playing cards. Their faces are tense, their hands move swiftly, The cupidity of the players is betrayed by the trembling fingers and by the twitching of their facial muscles, They play ... Suddenly, they break into laughter, and the waiter who has stopped at their table with beer, laughs too. They laugh until their sides split but not a sound is heard. It seems as if these people have died and their shadows have been condemned to play cards in silence unto eternity. Another picture. A gardener watering flowers. The light grey stream of water, issuing from a hose, breaks into a fine spray ...
This mute, grey life finally begins to disturb and depress you. It seems as though it carries a warning, fraught with a vague but sinister meaning that makes your heart grow faint. You are forgetting where you are. Strange imaginings invade your mind and your consciousness begins to wane and grow dim ... "
Maxim Gorky, 1896
HAPPY NEW YEAR
12.14.2010
12.05.2010
11.21.2010
STRYX
While doing some research on the stryx I found this.
I thank you, Ms. Jones. Thank you everyone.
8.26.2010
THE SECRET GENEALOGY OF THE BOSS PART I
THE SECRET GENEALOGY OF "THE BOSS":
Transmission of the Cursed Blood in the Ancient World; From Adam:
Adam Ruhani -(pre-curse)-> Homo Habilis -(half-curse)-> Cain -(full curse)-> Patient Zero -(identity unknown, attacked under a naked, black tree)-> The Hunter, Gracchus-(the curse came alive in his blood when he was struck down by the gods for hunting a sacred bird. Alive, in his coffin he still navigates the waterways of the underworld)-> Frinklaan Malone -(deceased and then reborn, building collectible antiques and buying them centuries later)-> a nameless ape -(left-handed, likes: The colors brown and red, fucking, killing. Dislikes: Light, the seasons, clouds, the sun, unblemished skin.)-> Gilgamesh I -(after he played a drum solo on the bones of Enkidu, while crying in seamstress's house, over a crack in the floor which lead directly to the netherworld)-> Puru-ravas Aila I -(Smiling as he dipped his hand in salt and then slapped his grandfather to death)-> Nimrod -(caught the bad gene from his mother, not by birth but later when he had sex with her)-> Laomedon --> Jade Emperor of Yu Huang -(when he buried a gaggle of children up to their necks in his courtyard and and ate a banquet in front of them, and later, when he washed his hands with vinegar)-> Sargon I of Akkad -(the curse was awakened in his blood when he took a shit on his astrolabe and then ate the flesh of a woman)-> Emperor Qin Shi Huang -(Attacked at age 49, awoke covered in blood surrounded by his terracotta army, now with a stutter in his heart and fangs)-> Dangun Wanggeom's bastard son by a women with a tattoo-(His blood boiling as he kicked a horse to death at a country fair)-> Abydos II-(Attacked while dancing in the shadow of a cracked boulder)-> Royal Shoemaker for Emperor Jimmu -(the curse awoke in him when the three-legged crow pecked out his left eye, while the Emperor laughed and spanked a consort with his longbow)->Ham -(In anger as he stood on a barren beach and thought about his father drunkenly brushing a giraffe)-> Lestek I -(Attacked by his wife while he was asleep, dreaming about a big fish eating a little fish)-> Kashekhemwy -(Inside a stone crypt thinking about loud music in the cold silence)-> King Parahu's Nameless Son-(in a cloud of incense, shut up in a crypt made of mud and stone, listening to the drums outside)-> Clodion de Chevelu-(Shut up in a crypt, trying to cut his hair with blunt rocks)-> Acestorides -(with eyes half closed, watching his banished enemy becoming a speck on the horizon, furiously masturbating)-> Simeon I of Bulgaria -(on the toilet, or, what passed for a toilet back then)-> Pepin the Hunchback -(In the doorway of a monastery, his hands becoming claws)-> Frederick I Barbarossa -(from birth)-> Charles IV --> Tewodros -(after a battle pulling the teeth out of the enemy corpses, he pricked his finger on a fang) -> Pipo of Ozora -(In a ceremony for the Order of the Dragon, where he made love to a masked woman and then was showered with cattle guts)-> THE BOSS
NOTE: Though The Boss' initials are "VD", the curse is in no way a venereal disease
Transmission of the Cursed Blood in the Ancient World; From Adam:
Adam Ruhani -(pre-curse)-> Homo Habilis -(half-curse)-> Cain -(full curse)-> Patient Zero -(identity unknown, attacked under a naked, black tree)-> The Hunter, Gracchus-(the curse came alive in his blood when he was struck down by the gods for hunting a sacred bird. Alive, in his coffin he still navigates the waterways of the underworld)-> Frinklaan Malone -(deceased and then reborn, building collectible antiques and buying them centuries later)-> a nameless ape -(left-handed, likes: The colors brown and red, fucking, killing. Dislikes: Light, the seasons, clouds, the sun, unblemished skin.)-> Gilgamesh I -(after he played a drum solo on the bones of Enkidu, while crying in seamstress's house, over a crack in the floor which lead directly to the netherworld)-> Puru-ravas Aila I -(Smiling as he dipped his hand in salt and then slapped his grandfather to death)-> Nimrod -(caught the bad gene from his mother, not by birth but later when he had sex with her)-> Laomedon --> Jade Emperor of Yu Huang -(when he buried a gaggle of children up to their necks in his courtyard and and ate a banquet in front of them, and later, when he washed his hands with vinegar)-> Sargon I of Akkad -(the curse was awakened in his blood when he took a shit on his astrolabe and then ate the flesh of a woman)-> Emperor Qin Shi Huang -(Attacked at age 49, awoke covered in blood surrounded by his terracotta army, now with a stutter in his heart and fangs)-> Dangun Wanggeom's bastard son by a women with a tattoo-(His blood boiling as he kicked a horse to death at a country fair)-> Abydos II-(Attacked while dancing in the shadow of a cracked boulder)-> Royal Shoemaker for Emperor Jimmu -(the curse awoke in him when the three-legged crow pecked out his left eye, while the Emperor laughed and spanked a consort with his longbow)->Ham -(In anger as he stood on a barren beach and thought about his father drunkenly brushing a giraffe)-> Lestek I -(Attacked by his wife while he was asleep, dreaming about a big fish eating a little fish)-> Kashekhemwy -(Inside a stone crypt thinking about loud music in the cold silence)-> King Parahu's Nameless Son-(in a cloud of incense, shut up in a crypt made of mud and stone, listening to the drums outside)-> Clodion de Chevelu-(Shut up in a crypt, trying to cut his hair with blunt rocks)-> Acestorides -(with eyes half closed, watching his banished enemy becoming a speck on the horizon, furiously masturbating)-> Simeon I of Bulgaria -(on the toilet, or, what passed for a toilet back then)-> Pepin the Hunchback -(In the doorway of a monastery, his hands becoming claws)-> Frederick I Barbarossa -(from birth)-> Charles IV --> Tewodros -(after a battle pulling the teeth out of the enemy corpses, he pricked his finger on a fang) -> Pipo of Ozora -(In a ceremony for the Order of the Dragon, where he made love to a masked woman and then was showered with cattle guts)-> THE BOSS
NOTE: Though The Boss' initials are "VD", the curse is in no way a venereal disease
4.23.2010
BARDO: OUR JOURNEY
(How the internet helped me to understand)
In the terma discovered by Karma Lingpa, Guru Padmasambhava introduces six different bardos.
The first bardo begins when we take birth and endures as long as we live.
Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born.
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
The second is the bardo of dreams.
(self-explanatory)
The third is the bardo of concentration or meditation.
...In seeing there is love, in being seen there is abhorrence. One grins, trying to bear the pain of being seen. But not just anyone can be someone who only looks. If the one who is looked at looks back, then the person who was looking becomes the one who is looked at...
The fourth occurs at the moment of death.
At the end of the Hentai Manga Alice in Sexland, it is revealed that Alice broke her neck while fleeing from her oppressors at the very start - the entire realm of Sexland is her afterlife. (And it's explicitly single-occupant - she's the only "real" person there besides the Queen of Hearts, and one of them needs to be reincarnated.) Given that the whole story up until then has been a cheerful sexual adventure vaguely mimicing Carroll's classic book, it's a rather unsettling twist of genre.
Or so you heard?
I think we're mature enough to acknowledge that we all enjoy porn. also, its not that the characters aside from Alice and the Queen aren't "real", they're more akin to nature spirits than souls. remember that Sexland is a Japanese story, and that the major religion of Japan is animistic.
The fifth is known as the bardo of the luminosity of the true nature.
The sixth is called the bardo of transmigration or karmic becoming
In the terma discovered by Karma Lingpa, Guru Padmasambhava introduces six different bardos.
The first bardo begins when we take birth and endures as long as we live.
Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born.
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
The second is the bardo of dreams.
(self-explanatory)
The third is the bardo of concentration or meditation.
...In seeing there is love, in being seen there is abhorrence. One grins, trying to bear the pain of being seen. But not just anyone can be someone who only looks. If the one who is looked at looks back, then the person who was looking becomes the one who is looked at...
The fourth occurs at the moment of death.
At the end of the Hentai Manga Alice in Sexland, it is revealed that Alice broke her neck while fleeing from her oppressors at the very start - the entire realm of Sexland is her afterlife. (And it's explicitly single-occupant - she's the only "real" person there besides the Queen of Hearts, and one of them needs to be reincarnated.) Given that the whole story up until then has been a cheerful sexual adventure vaguely mimicing Carroll's classic book, it's a rather unsettling twist of genre.
Or so you heard?
I think we're mature enough to acknowledge that we all enjoy porn. also, its not that the characters aside from Alice and the Queen aren't "real", they're more akin to nature spirits than souls. remember that Sexland is a Japanese story, and that the major religion of Japan is animistic.
The fifth is known as the bardo of the luminosity of the true nature.
The sixth is called the bardo of transmigration or karmic becoming
2.17.2010
WHAT WE TALK ABOUT WHEN WE TALK TO THE PREMATURELY OBSOLESCENT
There are these people around now who want to talk about rugs and glasses and eye-glasses and I am pretty sure that I have to die soon. They want to show us a rug. They were going to buy a rug they saw in one place but then they found the same rug for this much at another place. The price was less at the other place. Same rug. Here's a hardcover book about rugs on a table on top of the previously mentioned rug. Did we tell you the story about the table?
My girlfriend is looking at the table, the rug, and then at me, and then at me reflected in our host's eyeglasses. The hostess is hanging on the host's arm and beaming with pride; she is holding a glass of wine with a specific shape in a specific color with a specific taste bought from somewhere she found. Evidently the store didn't exist until she found it. My girlfriend is listening with rapt attention and is probably tallying up some numbers in her head. My girlfriend is talking to the hostess about a mutual friend's wedding. The hostess hooks her digital camera up to the laptop on the kitchen counter to show us pictures from the wedding. I don't know who any of the people are in the picture other than myself, my girlfriend, the host and the hostess. We are looking at pictures of ourselves at the wedding and my girlfriend and the hostess are talking about how much weight the bride had lost to fit into her dress. They are talking about how the growth in the bride's vagina, thank goodness, was benign, and the hostess has pulled out some scans from the MRI.
The host wants to talk to me about the winter Olympics, and is angry that I don't know anything about who got what medal from which country. Then he asks me a series of questions about Canada but I don't know the answers. I explain to him that I am not from Canada and I don't know the population of Canada. We make vague guesses at the population of Canada while my girlfriend and the hostess laugh about some mutual friend and something this friend did when they were all sixteen years old.
The host is telling me about how he goes surfing and then says a bunch of technical surfing terms and smiles widely at the recognition he believes he sees in my face. The hostess overhears the conversation and she tells the host to get his surfboard and his wetsuit to show us. The host very modestly protests this. The hostess begs him to get his surfboard and his wetsuit and he laughs and protests. My girlfriend joins in and begs him to get his surfboard and his wetsuit. This goes on for a very long time and I want to smoke a cigarette, but can't in this clean house and want my girlfriend to go with me to stand and smoke on the tiny veranda. But she is still begging the host to get his surfboard. Finally the host, while still protesting, goes into the other room and comes out with the surfboard and the wetsuit and my girlfriend is yelling with shock and admiration at him. Or maybe she is yelling at the surfboard. The ceiling is too low for him to stand it up so he is holding it awkwardly in his arms. My girlfriend and the hostess are looking at it and he is talking about the beaches and the best trains to take to get there. The hostess has forgotten what side she is on and is matching my girlfriend's exaggerated reactions to the surfboard and the wetsuit. My girlfriend is looking at the wetsuit and nodding while the host tells us about the difference between the waves in Australia and Tokyo. My girlfriend hands me the wetsuit and I am calculating how long I have to look at it and nod before I can hand it back. I am not sure what do with the wetsuit and hand it back to my girlfriend.
They serve us some food which is flavorless boiled vegetables and rice. The hostess talks to us about macrobiotics and explains to us the virtue of flavorless food, and how it has not only made her more healthy, but more positive. She now understands things about nature, and the implication is, that no one else does. My girlfriend has now matched the the hostesses zeal and is talking about healthy food and chiding me for eating curry and ramen. This is my girlfriend, who lives on a diet of noodles, soup, rice omelettes, garlic, menthol cigarettes, and alcohol.
The host wants to ask me some questions about Eminem and what he is doing these days. Do Americans still like Eminem? Do Black people in America like Eminem? Is America really like the America depicted in the movie "8 Mile"?
Now I am praying for the earthquake that they have been threatening me with since I came to this country. But I feel bad about this, thinking about Haiti. But then again if the big one came it would bury all of the filing cabinets and all of the information on me which I have been racking up since I set foot in this country. Would I feel bad? I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt. Could the earthquake just localize to the immigration office, my apartment, the university, and this apartment with the rugs and wine? I would feel bad, I guess, if anyone got hurt. Present company excluded.
My girlfriend is looking at the table, the rug, and then at me, and then at me reflected in our host's eyeglasses. The hostess is hanging on the host's arm and beaming with pride; she is holding a glass of wine with a specific shape in a specific color with a specific taste bought from somewhere she found. Evidently the store didn't exist until she found it. My girlfriend is listening with rapt attention and is probably tallying up some numbers in her head. My girlfriend is talking to the hostess about a mutual friend's wedding. The hostess hooks her digital camera up to the laptop on the kitchen counter to show us pictures from the wedding. I don't know who any of the people are in the picture other than myself, my girlfriend, the host and the hostess. We are looking at pictures of ourselves at the wedding and my girlfriend and the hostess are talking about how much weight the bride had lost to fit into her dress. They are talking about how the growth in the bride's vagina, thank goodness, was benign, and the hostess has pulled out some scans from the MRI.
The host wants to talk to me about the winter Olympics, and is angry that I don't know anything about who got what medal from which country. Then he asks me a series of questions about Canada but I don't know the answers. I explain to him that I am not from Canada and I don't know the population of Canada. We make vague guesses at the population of Canada while my girlfriend and the hostess laugh about some mutual friend and something this friend did when they were all sixteen years old.
The host is telling me about how he goes surfing and then says a bunch of technical surfing terms and smiles widely at the recognition he believes he sees in my face. The hostess overhears the conversation and she tells the host to get his surfboard and his wetsuit to show us. The host very modestly protests this. The hostess begs him to get his surfboard and his wetsuit and he laughs and protests. My girlfriend joins in and begs him to get his surfboard and his wetsuit. This goes on for a very long time and I want to smoke a cigarette, but can't in this clean house and want my girlfriend to go with me to stand and smoke on the tiny veranda. But she is still begging the host to get his surfboard. Finally the host, while still protesting, goes into the other room and comes out with the surfboard and the wetsuit and my girlfriend is yelling with shock and admiration at him. Or maybe she is yelling at the surfboard. The ceiling is too low for him to stand it up so he is holding it awkwardly in his arms. My girlfriend and the hostess are looking at it and he is talking about the beaches and the best trains to take to get there. The hostess has forgotten what side she is on and is matching my girlfriend's exaggerated reactions to the surfboard and the wetsuit. My girlfriend is looking at the wetsuit and nodding while the host tells us about the difference between the waves in Australia and Tokyo. My girlfriend hands me the wetsuit and I am calculating how long I have to look at it and nod before I can hand it back. I am not sure what do with the wetsuit and hand it back to my girlfriend.
They serve us some food which is flavorless boiled vegetables and rice. The hostess talks to us about macrobiotics and explains to us the virtue of flavorless food, and how it has not only made her more healthy, but more positive. She now understands things about nature, and the implication is, that no one else does. My girlfriend has now matched the the hostesses zeal and is talking about healthy food and chiding me for eating curry and ramen. This is my girlfriend, who lives on a diet of noodles, soup, rice omelettes, garlic, menthol cigarettes, and alcohol.
The host wants to ask me some questions about Eminem and what he is doing these days. Do Americans still like Eminem? Do Black people in America like Eminem? Is America really like the America depicted in the movie "8 Mile"?
Now I am praying for the earthquake that they have been threatening me with since I came to this country. But I feel bad about this, thinking about Haiti. But then again if the big one came it would bury all of the filing cabinets and all of the information on me which I have been racking up since I set foot in this country. Would I feel bad? I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt. Could the earthquake just localize to the immigration office, my apartment, the university, and this apartment with the rugs and wine? I would feel bad, I guess, if anyone got hurt. Present company excluded.
1.29.2010
BEEN HAD SEXUAL REPRESSION IN SOUTH KOREA, GAMINES MUGGING IN HYPE WILLIAMS COLORS
Well well well,
there is something deeply perverse in all of this. I can't put my finger on it.
I can only imagine I am the young finger of a fresh faced girl, poking snuggly into a dimpled cheek.
No these girls aren't using sign language, they are in fact, Korean.
Why do they mug and throw crazy gestures on every close-up?
How many winks and hand flutters can you throw out before it looks like a tic?
Why do I want to make love to all of these child-women and or kill myself/animals in front of them?
These videos are from this year but they feel like post-war live television time paradox where there was a geritol commercial interrupting the "No Scrubs" video.
there is something deeply perverse in all of this. I can't put my finger on it.
I can only imagine I am the young finger of a fresh faced girl, poking snuggly into a dimpled cheek.
No these girls aren't using sign language, they are in fact, Korean.
Why do they mug and throw crazy gestures on every close-up?
How many winks and hand flutters can you throw out before it looks like a tic?
Why do I want to make love to all of these child-women and or kill myself/animals in front of them?
These videos are from this year but they feel like post-war live television time paradox where there was a geritol commercial interrupting the "No Scrubs" video.
1.27.2010
2010: STATE OF THE WEB THREE POINT OH
STEP ONE: Man/woman/child/building falls down and/or animal does something in front of a camera.
STEP TWO: Science builds a hairstyle in front of a map of Los Angeles and this hairstyle births a lined forehead connected to a Casey Kasem-esque construct. The construct achieves consciousness and sees the footage of Man/woman/child/building falling down and/or animal doing something. The construct then makes a video of himself commenting on the Man/woman/child/building falling down and/or animal doing something, using a voice bubbling out of an fm radio in his throat which is powered by hair gel. (see below)
STEP THREE: I think about how much all the stuff in my room costs and how much of it will possibly be regarded as treasure in some unforseeable future scenario. Too distracted to tally up this astronomical future fantasy sum I look at the internet to see this Kaseman commenting on Man/woman/child/building falling down and/or animal doing something and am thoroughly disgusted. I try to imagine why this Kasemite would bother making these videos; I question his dreams and aspirations. Does he want to be the Kasem that this hairstyle and LA LOOKS voice has made him? Is this a stepping stone to a Shadow Stevens style voice-life? Does he think his uninspired commentary on Man/woman/child/building falling down and/or animal doing something is interesting? Does he question how parasitic this is?
Asking myself these questions out loud I post a video of mediocre man throwing bland quips at a blooper reel on my blog and wait.
STEP FOUR: I wait and fantasize. I think of my blog and who might be looking at it. An attractive woman fingering herself? Someone chained to a wall? Maybe the screen is showing my blog to an empty room. A room inside a boat? It is slightly terrifying.
STEP FIVE: Someone sees my blog about a man talking about a video. And this person draws a still life of my blog in a bowl of oranges.
STEP SIX: Complete and total collapse of everything and the last stragglers crawling out of the rubble to fight over the remaining goods, some humping the corpses strewn about, some humping the parts of the corpses sticking out from under the debris. Unimaginative religions are created and immediately forgotten.
STEP SEVEN: An unknowable amount of time passes.
STEP EIGHT: Someone comes into my room and starts assigning prices to all of my stuff. I will never know what these prices are because I am long dead. My skeleton lies in the center of the room and I am grinning about something. No one will ever know what I am grinning about because I am long dead. Later thieves take away my bones mistaking them for something else.
STEP TWO: Science builds a hairstyle in front of a map of Los Angeles and this hairstyle births a lined forehead connected to a Casey Kasem-esque construct. The construct achieves consciousness and sees the footage of Man/woman/child/building falling down and/or animal doing something. The construct then makes a video of himself commenting on the Man/woman/child/building falling down and/or animal doing something, using a voice bubbling out of an fm radio in his throat which is powered by hair gel. (see below)
STEP THREE: I think about how much all the stuff in my room costs and how much of it will possibly be regarded as treasure in some unforseeable future scenario. Too distracted to tally up this astronomical future fantasy sum I look at the internet to see this Kaseman commenting on Man/woman/child/building falling down and/or animal doing something and am thoroughly disgusted. I try to imagine why this Kasemite would bother making these videos; I question his dreams and aspirations. Does he want to be the Kasem that this hairstyle and LA LOOKS voice has made him? Is this a stepping stone to a Shadow Stevens style voice-life? Does he think his uninspired commentary on Man/woman/child/building falling down and/or animal doing something is interesting? Does he question how parasitic this is?
Asking myself these questions out loud I post a video of mediocre man throwing bland quips at a blooper reel on my blog and wait.
STEP FOUR: I wait and fantasize. I think of my blog and who might be looking at it. An attractive woman fingering herself? Someone chained to a wall? Maybe the screen is showing my blog to an empty room. A room inside a boat? It is slightly terrifying.
STEP FIVE: Someone sees my blog about a man talking about a video. And this person draws a still life of my blog in a bowl of oranges.
STEP SIX: Complete and total collapse of everything and the last stragglers crawling out of the rubble to fight over the remaining goods, some humping the corpses strewn about, some humping the parts of the corpses sticking out from under the debris. Unimaginative religions are created and immediately forgotten.
STEP SEVEN: An unknowable amount of time passes.
STEP EIGHT: Someone comes into my room and starts assigning prices to all of my stuff. I will never know what these prices are because I am long dead. My skeleton lies in the center of the room and I am grinning about something. No one will ever know what I am grinning about because I am long dead. Later thieves take away my bones mistaking them for something else.
1.21.2010
1.19.2010
???
Sixty miles from Haiti's devastated earthquake zone, luxury liners dock at private beaches where passengers enjoy jetski rides, parasailing and rum cocktails delivered to their hammocks.
The 4,370-berth Independence of the Seas, owned by Royal Caribbean International, disembarked at the heavily guarded resort of Labadee on the north coast on Friday; a second cruise ship, the 3,100-passenger Navigator of the Seas is due to dock.
The Florida cruise company leases a picturesque wooded peninsula and its five pristine beaches from the government for passengers to "cut loose" with watersports, barbecues, and shopping for trinkets at a craft market before returning on board before dusk. Safety is guaranteed by armed guards at the gate.
The decision to go ahead with the visit has divided passengers. The ships carry some food aid, and the cruise line has pledged to donate all proceeds from the visit to help stricken Haitians. But many passengers will stay aboard when they dock; one said he was "sickened".
"I just can't see myself sunning on the beach, playing in the water, eating a barbecue, and enjoying a cocktail while [in Port-au-Prince] there are tens of thousands of dead people being piled up on the streets, with the survivors stunned and looking for food and water," one passenger wrote on the Cruise Critic internet forum.
"It was hard enough to sit and eat a picnic lunch at Labadee before the quake, knowing how many Haitians were starving," said another. "I can't imagine having to choke down a burger there now.''
Some booked on ships scheduled to stop at Labadee are afraid that desperate people might breach the resort's 12ft high fences to get food and drink, but others seemed determined to enjoy their holiday."I'll be there on Tuesday and I plan on enjoying my zip line excursion as well as the time on the beach," said one.
The company said the question of whether to "deliver a vacation experience so close to the epicentre of an earthquake" had been subject to considerable internal debate before it decided to include Haiti in its itineraries for the coming weeks.
"In the end, Labadee is critical to Haiti's recovery; hundreds of people rely on Labadee for their livelihood," said John Weis, vice-president. "In our conversations with the UN special envoy of the government of Haiti, Leslie Voltaire, he notes that Haiti will benefit from the revenues that are generated from each call …
"We also have tremendous opportunities to use our ships as transport vessels for relief supplies and personnel to Haiti. Simply put, we cannot abandon Haiti now that they need us most."
"Friday's call in Labadee went well," said Royal Caribbean. "Everything was open, as usual. The guests were very happy to hear that 100% of the proceeds from the call at Labadee would be donated to the relief effort."
Forty pallets of rice, beans, powdered milk, water, and canned foods were delivered on Friday, and a further 80 are due and 16 on two subsequent ships. When supplies arrive in Labadee, they are distributed by Food for the Poor, a longtime partner of Royal Caribbean in Haiti.
Royal Caribbean has also pledged $1m to the relief effort and will spend part of that helping 200 Haitian crew members.
The company recently spent $55m updating Labadee. It employs 230 Haitians and the firm estimates 300 more benefit from the market. The development has been regarded as a beacon of private investment in Haiti; Bill Clinton visited in October. Some Haitians have decried the leasing of the peninsula as effective privatisation of part of the republic's coastline.
VIA THE GUARDIAN.UK
12.04.2009
A LIST OF NOTABLE GHOSTS, AND NOTABLE GHOSTTYPES PART ONE: THE BASIC NEUTRAL GHOSTTYPES
The Basic Neutral (non-scary) Ghosttypes
Tune Ghosts-
These ghosts emit a low frequency song and can be found in between radio stations.
Ghost in a hat-
This ghost is notable for wearing a hat. Sometimes this ghost turns invisible and he just looks like a floating hat. If he lays down and rubs dirt on his hat he can disguise himself as a discarded hat.
Footstep Ghosts-
These ghosts stay out of sight and imitate the sound of footsteps, usually in old houses.
Fun fact: They imitate the sound of footsteps with their hands.
Ghost on a staircase-
This ghost moves slow and thinks slower. This ghost has the ultimate comeback in a verbal fight after he has already gone home, and contrary to his name, spends most of his time sitting on his bed (not the staircase) thinking about his comeback. (from the French)
Rubber Ghosts-
This ghost bounces.
King Ghost-
Once thought to be the king of all ghosts. This ghost is actually just a ghost wearing a crown. It was discovered that there are multiple King Ghosts when a paranormal investigator stumbled into a King Ghost party by accident. Inside multiple King Ghosts were inside drinking and talking. There was no music or dancing, but overstuffed chairs and some pipe smoke.
King Ghosts apparently have a mysterious and complicated social hierarchy. Though it has yet to be determined whether a King Ghost's social standing is judged either by the size or splendor of his crown.
Most King Ghosts' crowns, on closer inspection, are not made out of precious metals but appear to be made out of shiny trash. The foil from cigarette boxes, candy wrappers, shiny buttons, &tc.
The same goes for King Ghosts' mustaches.
Sigh Ghosts-
This ghost is invisible and is usually found laying face-down on the floor sighing.
Celebrity ghosts-
There are two types of celebrity ghosts: Posthumous and Early.
Early celebrity ghosts were famous before death. A perfect example is "the ghost of the Famous Murderer." (for more info see section three, Murder Ghosts) Though the Famous Murderer continued his murdering after his death, his celebrity as a ghost hinged on his recognition as a murderer in the pre-death.
Posthumous celebrity ghosts achieve celebrity after they have become ghosts. The majority of celebrity ghosts fall into this category. The Ghost of The Rocket, The Diner Kitchen Ghost, The Ghost of the Wailing Dumpster, The Ghost of the Missing Continent, Encyclopedia Ghost Junior; all of the most well known celebrity ghosts attained their fame through post-death hauntings and activities.
There is a third, and disputed, type of celebrity ghost. This is the Early Pre-Death Celebrity Ghost. This is a living celebrity whose fall from the public eye has rendered him or her into an apparition. Again this typification as a ghost is hotly debated.
Stain/Freckle/Blot/Smudge ghosts-
This form of ghost appears as a small spot and attaches itself to a host. The host can be a living creature, a machine, an article of clothing, or another ghost. It is parasitic by nature.
Pretender Ghosts-
These are ghosts who simply pretend to be something else, usually inanimate. This ghost, when discovered, will deny that it is a ghost pretending to be, say, a car, or whatever it is pretending to be. If the ghost can be successfully convinced that no one is falling for its act, the ghost will move on.
Pretender ghosts are notorious for their pride. Often pretender ghosts pretend to be a piece of flashy jewelery or the hood ornament on a car. Sometimes a pair of expensive shoes. A factory had to once close its doors when it was discovered most of the machines on its assembly line was a team of pretender ghosts.
There is a subset of Pretender Ghosts, called "Pretender-to-the-crown-ghosts" which live on top of the heads of King Ghosts.
Lighting Ghosts-
These ghosts turn the lights on and off when no one is around. If the house has a dimmer switch, forget about it, these motherfuckers go to town.
Furniture Ghosts-
These ghosts appear under their shrouds to have the shapes of simple and unfinished pieces of furniture.
Ghost in a Box-
Above all else this ghost does not want to be found so it hides in a box. Or it hides in a smaller box inside a bigger box. As a defense instinct, Ghosts in a box label their own boxes with words that are either boring or unappealing, in hopes no one will want to open their box and look inside.
In this way Ghosts in a box must think long and hard about how to label their boxes. So they might write something mundane like "paperclips". But there is always the danger that someone might be out looking for paperclips and be so overjoyed by their luck that they immediately open the box, finding the ghost who does not want to be found. If the ghost writes something unappealing like "medical waste" or "dead animals inside" on their box there is the danger that someone will want to open the box and photograph the contents, or worse, send their box to the municipal dump where it will be mashed up with the other refuse into an uncomfortable cube.
This is why many times Ghosts in a Box are found before they have even entered their box, standing outside of it, their faces screwed up in consternation, their hesitating hands holding a magic marker.
One-Ring-Phone Ghosts-
These ghosts sit on the floor with the phone calling numbers at random and hanging up after one ring. Are they too shy to talk? Who are they trying to reach?
These questions have never been answered because no one wants to disturb these ghosts while they are on the phone, which they always are.
Bus Ghosts-
These ghosts ride the bus and never get off. When the bus returns to the depot at night these ghosts are nowhere to be found.
Tune Ghosts-
These ghosts emit a low frequency song and can be found in between radio stations.
Ghost in a hat-
This ghost is notable for wearing a hat. Sometimes this ghost turns invisible and he just looks like a floating hat. If he lays down and rubs dirt on his hat he can disguise himself as a discarded hat.
Footstep Ghosts-
These ghosts stay out of sight and imitate the sound of footsteps, usually in old houses.
Fun fact: They imitate the sound of footsteps with their hands.
Ghost on a staircase-
This ghost moves slow and thinks slower. This ghost has the ultimate comeback in a verbal fight after he has already gone home, and contrary to his name, spends most of his time sitting on his bed (not the staircase) thinking about his comeback. (from the French)
Rubber Ghosts-
This ghost bounces.
King Ghost-
Once thought to be the king of all ghosts. This ghost is actually just a ghost wearing a crown. It was discovered that there are multiple King Ghosts when a paranormal investigator stumbled into a King Ghost party by accident. Inside multiple King Ghosts were inside drinking and talking. There was no music or dancing, but overstuffed chairs and some pipe smoke.
King Ghosts apparently have a mysterious and complicated social hierarchy. Though it has yet to be determined whether a King Ghost's social standing is judged either by the size or splendor of his crown.
Most King Ghosts' crowns, on closer inspection, are not made out of precious metals but appear to be made out of shiny trash. The foil from cigarette boxes, candy wrappers, shiny buttons, &tc.
The same goes for King Ghosts' mustaches.
Sigh Ghosts-
This ghost is invisible and is usually found laying face-down on the floor sighing.
Celebrity ghosts-
There are two types of celebrity ghosts: Posthumous and Early.
Early celebrity ghosts were famous before death. A perfect example is "the ghost of the Famous Murderer." (for more info see section three, Murder Ghosts) Though the Famous Murderer continued his murdering after his death, his celebrity as a ghost hinged on his recognition as a murderer in the pre-death.
Posthumous celebrity ghosts achieve celebrity after they have become ghosts. The majority of celebrity ghosts fall into this category. The Ghost of The Rocket, The Diner Kitchen Ghost, The Ghost of the Wailing Dumpster, The Ghost of the Missing Continent, Encyclopedia Ghost Junior; all of the most well known celebrity ghosts attained their fame through post-death hauntings and activities.
There is a third, and disputed, type of celebrity ghost. This is the Early Pre-Death Celebrity Ghost. This is a living celebrity whose fall from the public eye has rendered him or her into an apparition. Again this typification as a ghost is hotly debated.
Stain/Freckle/Blot/Smudge ghosts-
This form of ghost appears as a small spot and attaches itself to a host. The host can be a living creature, a machine, an article of clothing, or another ghost. It is parasitic by nature.
Pretender Ghosts-
These are ghosts who simply pretend to be something else, usually inanimate. This ghost, when discovered, will deny that it is a ghost pretending to be, say, a car, or whatever it is pretending to be. If the ghost can be successfully convinced that no one is falling for its act, the ghost will move on.
Pretender ghosts are notorious for their pride. Often pretender ghosts pretend to be a piece of flashy jewelery or the hood ornament on a car. Sometimes a pair of expensive shoes. A factory had to once close its doors when it was discovered most of the machines on its assembly line was a team of pretender ghosts.
There is a subset of Pretender Ghosts, called "Pretender-to-the-crown-ghosts" which live on top of the heads of King Ghosts.
Lighting Ghosts-
These ghosts turn the lights on and off when no one is around. If the house has a dimmer switch, forget about it, these motherfuckers go to town.
Furniture Ghosts-
These ghosts appear under their shrouds to have the shapes of simple and unfinished pieces of furniture.
Ghost in a Box-
Above all else this ghost does not want to be found so it hides in a box. Or it hides in a smaller box inside a bigger box. As a defense instinct, Ghosts in a box label their own boxes with words that are either boring or unappealing, in hopes no one will want to open their box and look inside.
In this way Ghosts in a box must think long and hard about how to label their boxes. So they might write something mundane like "paperclips". But there is always the danger that someone might be out looking for paperclips and be so overjoyed by their luck that they immediately open the box, finding the ghost who does not want to be found. If the ghost writes something unappealing like "medical waste" or "dead animals inside" on their box there is the danger that someone will want to open the box and photograph the contents, or worse, send their box to the municipal dump where it will be mashed up with the other refuse into an uncomfortable cube.
This is why many times Ghosts in a Box are found before they have even entered their box, standing outside of it, their faces screwed up in consternation, their hesitating hands holding a magic marker.
One-Ring-Phone Ghosts-
These ghosts sit on the floor with the phone calling numbers at random and hanging up after one ring. Are they too shy to talk? Who are they trying to reach?
These questions have never been answered because no one wants to disturb these ghosts while they are on the phone, which they always are.
Bus Ghosts-
These ghosts ride the bus and never get off. When the bus returns to the depot at night these ghosts are nowhere to be found.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
