Archive for March 5th, 2008

“Second effort”

Wednesday, 5 March 2008

Eh, this one’s
solid in places
I kind of liked
the first one

I wish this was more like the older piece
and things were like before
when the previous piece you’d written was
your latest one.

You know?

“cupcakes in a locked iron chest”

Wednesday, 5 March 2008

“There’s nothing to write,” he said,
sounding like
a teenager scanning the cupboard for snacks.

And it’s true,
there’s nothing in here
out there
even over yon where Shakespeare shits quill pens.


No inspiration
No motivation
Not even

(wait for it)


There’s nothing to do, write or say.

There are no E-Z snacks
any more.

You’re finished, all that’s left is to
bitter that someone else
will get paid to
write about it.


A survey you’ll actually want to take (or pass along)

Wednesday, 5 March 2008

44. If you were a yogurt, what yogurt would you be?43. If you could take only one flare gun to a deserted island, what kind of flare gun would it be? One that shoots flares?

42. Ever pee into an active volcano? Non-active?

41. What’s your favorite type of tree? Did it ever talk to you?

42. At what age did you read your parents’ “adult” mags or watch those films?

41. List three people you’d sell into White Slavery and why.

40. If you’re a man, would you prefer your “sinep”-spelled-backwards be longer or thicker?

39. Explain why you lied in your answer to 40.

38. Would you own a laser pointer as hot as the sun? What would you do with it?

37. If you could make one race of people vanish from the earth, explain why you chose Black people, racist!

36. Name a rare or exotic food you failed to try and now regret not trying it.

35. Would you rather be invisible but gay, or like you are now?

34. What’s the one question you would ask God(s) while still alive (you, not God(s)

33. If a close friend kicked a wino to death would you tell the authorities if she said the wino was being a jerk?

32. If you had small, climate-controlled home, would you rather it be in a country where you freeze your ass off for one year or burn up in a super-hot country for one year?

31. If you had a time machine, who would you travel to the past to kick in the balls? DIfficulty level: you can’t choose Hitler.

30. Invent a cereal flavor even Mikey would hate.

29. Name all the promiscuous female friends you know. Include names, addresses and phone numbers…and hell, even email addies.

29. Would you trade your most valuable material possession to bring a childhood pet back from the dead?

28. What movie, toy or book universe would you rather live in?

27. If ALL drugs both legal and illegal were available to buy OTC, which would you choose and why? (Don’t cop out and just type “All” either).

26. Explain why you typed “All” anyway? Did you ever listen to anyone?

25. If you were a punctuation mark, which one would you be?

24. If you could party with any Founding Father, which one would it be? (You don’t know any of them, do you)?

23. If you could shit money up to $600 a day by eating a small bowl of manure, would you and how often?

22. If you could get away with it, would you become “Satan for a Day?” Who would you corrupt?

21. If you could make one kind of animal, either wild or domesticated, able to speak, which would it be?

20. If you could trade one celebrity’s life for another, which two would they be?

21. Would you ever want to visit outer space and a space station? What would you want to do there besides sex?

20. Would you f**k Mrs. Howell if you were stranded on Gilligan’s Island? How long could you hold out before giving in?

19. Would you rather eat an expertly prepared dolphin or a fast food whale? (You get to keep the leftovers).

18. If you’re for the death penalty, what form of execution would you like to bring back? Or create an original one.

17. What’s your favorite candy? Do you own a windowless van?

16. Would you want to know even the day of the week you die (e.g. a Thursday)?

15. Would you want to know the precise date of your death if it meant losing 5 years off the time you get to live?

14. How many years of your life would you take from your own to give to a dying loved one?

13. Enough about death. What’s your most hated food that you’ve vowed never to eat ever again?

12. Would you change your name to Hades Clownboat or Slapnuts Lillington for a guaranteed $3,000 a year for life?

11. Slapnuts, would you rather have the power to command all the hippopotamuses on earth or the ability to spell any word perfectly but only on the third try?

10. Would you rather reign in Hell or serve in Heaven? How about part time in each?

9. What’s your favorite type of cheese? Defend your answer.

8. Do you think society should outlaw something or other that’s legal now? If so, what?

7. If their defendants get sentenced to death should their lawyers be severely mauled by tigers wearing boxing gloves?

6. If you could rename the Frisbee what would you call it? Would anyone care?

5. Would you rather have a partner that obeyed your every command but who couldn’t ever cook for shit or one who argued 1/4 the time but was a kickass cook?

4. If you had a humanoid robotic assistant who could do anything (legal) name 3 things you’d have it help you do.

3. What would you name your own clothing line?

2. What’s the last thing you’d say to someone you were about to kill?

1. Explain, in two words, your philosophy on life.

0. Of love, money, hope or health, which two begin with the letter X?

-1. If you could deep-fry any food, what would it be?

-2. What kind of vehicle would a walrus drive?

-3. Do you think you’re free to go, now that this survey is over? (WRONG).

Before Any Greatness Lies This Mess

Wednesday, 5 March 2008

Orig. published ’06 @ AHA

The Masters of the world, when they aren’t sucking your spirit dry, chain you to other pathetic souls. You’re your brother’s keeper they say, but your strength really makes you his servant. By the time you realize this for yourself the honey of your youth is a dry crust and you are branded. Herds of cattle all tied together by the neck and balls…


Neck and balls is how I wade through. Pain is a black silk curtain always parting before I can rip it with payback. The enemy is subtle. The greatest lies burst through megaphones while evil truths thrust with mosquito barbs so thin they slide between your cells to where nothing has feeling.


All day he complains. I mostly listen but sometimes vainly try to fight back and tell him how to solve x or y. Of course, it’s futile: he’s as in love with his pain as anyone, a born complainer. He can’t get ahead, he can’t find The woman, the burdens stack upon him like cinder blocks.

Is he a fool? No. A true fool is happy with his fate because he knows he’s screwed and a slave and can enjoy the little gifts sometimes lain across the struggle. (Who would love an iPod more than Sisyphus)? But the Complainer won’t change a thing, never will, it’s Misery as the title track forever, until the wrong tombstone ordered for his grave is delivered by silver mannequins and the final drab curtains settle over the grave-soil.


Rain sounds like a solid slurring ocean smashing the pavement. It smells like dinosaurs wearing old coats. I missed it more than I knew.


When women have big tits everything changes, their stories seem more important. I like to smoke cigars and pretend trees are women. I like the way the smoke curls off my breath like silver-gray evil. I am rich with smoke.


Two xmas trees lay on top of one another, not copulating but dead. One of the trees still had its lights wrapped around it. Are we that wealthy now to just throw out the lights with the tree? I was too lazy to take the lights for myself, I didn’t need them, they were like a prom dress wrapped around dead tree #2.


No one knows who’s the most surpised when a product works as advertised. I like informercials; they do such a professional job of telling me what I don’t need.


I hate the new library. The library is a tomb, the books are collected shit. The self-checkout scanner hides the sex books I borrow. I hate the new library. It’s too rich and new, it towers over the patrons, all of them assholes but me. The internet in the library is like a mistress living with the married couple. The books are glossy and unread. The CDs for checkout are all foreign trash. Dog food dog food dog food. I hate the new library, it bends the sunlight until it gives up. It makes me feel like an intruder. The spacious many-windowed ‘quiet rooms’ are filled with liars. No one has stuck gum under the chairs. The library is that new. All the girls are older than the library but are too young for me.


Before you are famous you fart and vomit, curse and change stations. Quite average. Fame sits somewhere in the distance, a clever pot-bellied mirage with scalped tickets in hand. Look sharp, here it comes!


The best part of any book is not having to smell the author. A book is a collection of offal, words lined up like whores in the bordello. Who would rather hold a book than a woman, even if the latter isn’t breathing?


Nighttime, the trampoline of reflection. Muscles lounge like old tigers. Bump keys tap the brain, trying doors better left unsaid. You can’t beat your own brains at any game, the illusions and delusions. When thoughts fail something makes them strap on bombs.


I love how smoke erupts and follows murdered matchsticks. I hate the beach but love the smell of suntan lotion. When there’s fish I eat the scales. I wait for the index to the illusion. I wait forever to see how it’s done.


Wednesday, 5 March 2008

After emailing the talented fellow who brought my idea of “PopeCat” to life through the magick of Photoshop a few years back, I was sad to learn he no longer had a copy.  All was not lost, however.  When  I visited Cali last November, I took the one thing of value out of storage, my old hard drive.  All the old files are now safely stored on my new external hard drive, and PopeCat, as you can see, lives.

Image and video hosting by TinyPic
Look at his cute little ears, poking through holes in the PopeCat mitre! 

The Pope already has the costume and the car, but He was still missing something:  a sidekick.  It couldn’t be a human, for like the Sith, the “Co-Pope” would crave the Pope’s power.  So why not PopeCat?  Cats believe themselves superior to humans–including His Holiness–and they are.

Think of the archbishops lined up at Mass, grumbling and pissed because a cat ranks higher than they do.  Ha ha ha ha!

All hail PopeCat!  And have mercy.  I spared you the CATholic puns.

* NOTE FOR PURISTS I’m aware Pope John Paul II has become one with the Force, but I don’t care for the current “interim” Panzer Pope.  PJPII forever!

Fearing for the future of reading?

Wednesday, 5 March 2008

There are more readers now than at any time in history. If there comes a point where there are less than 1000 readers out of 16 billion worldwide, then the 1000 readers will be superior to the non-readers.There will always be people smart enough to read, for as many reasons as there are people. It’s been my experience that the worst, most poorly-written sleazy novel still has more going for it than 99% of television and films. A movie buff who’s seen over 2000 films will still fall short compared to someone who reads all or even half the time, if only for fun. Visual addicts feed only their eyes and starve their brains; unlimited movie cliches limit the depth of movie characters versus literary ones.

When the time arrives that information can be downloaded directly into the brain and something as far off as Star Trek’s “holodeck” (and accompanying “holonovels”) exists, books will still be around.

Words have rightly been called “the most powerful drug used by mankind”. There’s nothing to rival the power of words just as there’s nothing to rival sex, though the latter will eventually be improved by robots and the holodeck.

As for writing…the Master Swordmaker cannot worry about what will happen to his finished creation, his Oneness is creating the sword.

“you could be one of them”

Wednesday, 5 March 2008

no mercy. no heart.

no brains.

a name on paper.

a stain on sheets.

a shallow can for