4/07/10

aswan obelisk

heavy lids mean nothing - sore eyes are irrational - algebra is absurd

i'll tell you what to do - listen to pablo francisco's flailing oriental stereotypes - they're so casually blunt they blur the line between laughing with racial humour, and laughing at it - and laugh at it, it's hilarious, and there's nothing wrong with a laugh - and no one will hear, the best laughs bounce off the walls, and it's lovely to hear the echoes and know it's your personal cave of laughter

it's not as good as the cackling cocoon of the mind before metamorphosis, when the itch is all there is, all you'd want, like an opiate reverie; how can i miss you if you won't go away, ghosts? but i guess i "lost" my personal data tracker in one of your apartments, didn't i? and it's pinging on my console, that's what that is, mapping routes through synaptic gaps, absence, to substance

they never got this obelisk out of the quarry, but why worry? do sarcophagi care? i put your bootstraps in a bank vault, young lad, it's a trust fund, i trust you'll learn how to levitate when i open the gate, it's a stargate, i wouldn't trust you with money, i trusted you with drugs and women, and they were real enough, at least you didn't crash the car like i thought you would, maybe you were east according to the west, and charmed

nonsense, you say - you don't pray, and you went back on your promise to complete the pro bono audio project the day st. anthony returned your keyboard's volume knob to you, safe inside the front pocket of the gig bag, i blame medication, the ones you're allowed to take, the mood stabilizers and nicotine blockers, they won't let your superstitions reign, and that's a shame i think, you don't know what luck you're missing, you gotta throw the dice once or twice in order to win big - back home they call that a swagger, they called me a braggart and a bullshit artist, well, that's where my heart is - living on reds, vitamin C, and cocaine - uptown, downtown, just drive me around, drive me craze azlong azthings'r in motion. Notice how my stenographer put the apostrophes in my slur, he's the only reason I get out of bed.

The Twin Gears of Cringe and Cling

Donating. Actually doing something - an interaction - over the web - financial transaction, christmas shopping, or sort of gesturing to chri...