The littlest of ideas
often correspond
to the largest of troubles.

haven't posted in some time...other vehicles...am writing a book now...rereading a few greats to prepare me...am utterly alone here...perhaps this is to be expected...

At any point where one
so subscribes to a collection
of theories, resulting in
the adoption close to
religiosity. . .one has
proven their unreadiness
for any truth presented
by the now-doctrine ideas.

wandering downtown...one performance followed by a reflection of past times inherent in the present for others...waiting for the breakout...waiting to be able to write the ONE thing...feel halfway there...if this is the ONE thing...i get the sense that it never is, nor will be....

Everyone should awake
extremely grateful
that their reality hasn't
shifted. . .too much.

the amount of time one spends doing the same bloody thing, while complaining little--should be an indication of how we are actually robotic. Organic hardware, and a mind that we can't locate as of yet.

News From a Distant Planet:

Until recently, scientists from
the distant planet believed that
nuclear bomb testing on Earth
was actually a form of art.
The matter was turned over
to the Artist's Guild. Extremely
impressed, the Guild funded
the launching of observation drones
to get closer images and readings
of the explosive spectacle.
When data returned from Earth's
orbit, the Guild was horrified to
learn that the supposed art form
had purely military applications.
The matter was returned to the
scientists...Along with a haughty
letter.

News From a Distant Planet:

On the distant planet,weeds that do not choke
other vegetation are considered 'rogue flowers',
in that they are generally too moody to flower.
Earth's equivalent of the dandelion is considered to be
among the first of the rogues to switch sides.

News From a Distant Planet:

A tour was given me, the celestial anthropologist, resulting
in the retrieval of the distant planet's ontology. "In the beginning God was the wind, caressing the land and the people. When God's wrath would be incurred, the land was made violate by hurricane and windstorm. To be closer to the winds, the people settled near bodies of torrential water, hoping to appease their God with their presence civilization grew with this sensibility/ideology.

News From a Distant Planet:

The mating process among those on the distant planet
is largely governed by the female of the species.
Males are obligated to comfort and serve the whims of
the females who are in their menstrual cycle. The male
which best eases the associated difficulties are chosen
for the role of life-partner.

News From a Distant Planet:

Historians on the distant planet have unearthed
a tome regarding the burial rituals of the previous
inhabitants. When one would die, the head would be
removed and placed in an airtight jar. The jar would
then be weighted and taken far out on the ocean.
The encased head would be dropped and left behind.
It had been believed that the sea and air composed the
spirit bodies of the recent dead. The head was needed
for the brain possessed the spirit's power.

News From a Distant Planet:

The origin of those from the distant planet
is told as such: a man encountered a crashed
spacecraft some 15 000 years ago. The pilot
of the craft stepped out wobbly and fell to
the ground. The man ran to his side. The pilot told
him that he was an advanced scout for a civilization
10 00 years away that intended to invade. He claimed
to be the offspring 10 000 years removed from the original
scout. Over the time he had traveled, the pilot had lost
all sense of his parent culture, and wished to warn the
distant planet of the impending attack. The pilot died
shortly thereafter. The man rushed about attempting to
tell everyone. Once the entirety of the planet was more
or less informed, they began a process of arming and
preparation. The planet underwent a colossal war measures
upheaval. Generation upon generation were dedicated to the
defense of the distant planet. By the time the invaders
had arrived, the people of the distant planet were ready.
Their people had been trained for thousands of years for
this very purpose. They were a celestial Sparta. When the
invading ships saw the amassed armies, they abandoned their
original peaceful plan, praising the forethought of their
forebears who had intended war, which the subsequent
generations had abandoned. They vaporized the population
of the distant planet in an instant. Thus is the origin
of those now dwelling on the distant planet.

News From a Distant Planet:

On the distant planet there is the odd
occurrence of encounters with U.F.O.
To ensure secrecy of the matter, authorities
have allowed those who had the encounters
to be in on all the information from other encounters.
When people are brought into the process, they
do not feel as if their stories have to be publicized.
All people really want is to be a part of something; they
want to feel important.

Newmarket days/daze...watched Plan 9 From Outer Space by Ed Wood...though celebrated as the worst movie ever made, a large budget and a number of script editors could turn it into the work of genius it could have been....

Day #7 no longer in the face of extinction....the phone call came in...

Day #6 in the face of extinction...in my experience couples that take a 'break' either talk to each other within a week, or actually break up...it has now been six days...what shall i infer?

Day #5 in the face of extinction...keep waking unsure of anything...loneliness is present however...emailed the person i ran into yesterday...perhaps we'll meet...

Day #4 in the face of extinction...miserable..been thinking about my emotional lock-boxage, when i ran into an old acquaintance who perfectly symbolized this for me...as we talked over coffee, it became clear how she perceived me...in largely dark terms...had a minor anxiety attack on the way home...

Day #3 in the face of extinction...thinking about day #2....was lonely and failure-feeling amongst family from afar...going nowhere...when i gave them the rundown of my future i didn't believe myself...routine answers...watched as their speculative gazes penetrated my subterfuge..have to hurry before i start losing important friends...have to deny the hermitesque dao i have tended to...i am a shaolin satellite...

so far day#3 is manic...hope to watch hockey with friends...have to include them into my life...

Day #1 in the face of extinction...called around today...apologizing for being a hermit...the first step involves admittance of guilt.

Death for child-slayers.

To wake each morning
is an example
of suicide.

A dictator in an orchard
understanding nothing.

new apartment...been awhile...listening to massive attack/underworld....kick ass...my room is a fucking freakshow of paint...gotta start over...again...steve's in mexico...a lot of work to be done...

what's with the Leafs...goddamed Philedelphia....

To achieve totality,
one must gaze into
the dark areas
of their psyche.

Das Reich Der Zwei
(Nation of Two)
Part 2:

The reason one only remembers
the negative aspects of a relationship
once it has passed is due primarily
to the rubble of the abandoned 'third
essence'. When one sees the rubble,
immediately search for the source of
its destruction--the negative aspects.

repair paint job...has to work...if not...out the window...game one for Leafs/Flyers...goddamned Philly...

The root of problems
tend to go back further
than we would like to look.

the Leafs did it...and i will age further...on to the second round...painted the new apartment...a fucking disaster...60 bucks in paint in vain..back to square zero...

I'm sorry,
so sorry.

If you are judgmental,
then you are damned.

sorry folks...
but i couldn't
help being
a sucker...

I love you all,
simply because
you are not me.

I'm no more
and no less
than every one.

I'm a prisoner of every
attempt at free will.

Everyone is
a complete fucking sucker....
just watch and see....

Just because one is vaguely
inebriated, doesn't mean
one is entirely susceptible
to change.

the Leafs won....God bless 'em....if not...i would be drowning in sorrows for months to come...

Voting isn't the end all be all
of democratic institutions.

i started watching hockey some years ago to counter depression...i'm not a big sports guy in general...i have fallen in love with the Toronto Maple Leafs...the problem has arisen however that i get terribly upset when they get knocked out of the playoffs...last year they were out in round one...it took me at least a month to recover...

Things go down
and no one will ever know.

The freshest forms
of genuine avant
garde art will be
increasingly disturbing.

It is erroneously natural
to assume that any alien
race will embody traits
that we either aspire
to or are in terror of.

Leafs must win tonight...if not...fuck...

The first American government,
a cabinet under Washington,
was selected on lines according
to ability. Very little was
accomplished due to major
schisms. Upon retirement,
Washington warned of the
dangers of partisanship.

News From a Distant Planet:

On the distant planet there are
no elected leaders. A computer
systems selects political and indeed
all varieties of leadership based upon
aptitude scanning. The brightest
are the heads in all fields.

Statistics will never prove
what is good for humanity.

Leafs lost...things look a little grim...

Certainty is Foolery.
Embrace paranoia.

There is no singularity....
There is no duality.....
There can only be multiplicity....

War is as much a relic
of societal barbarism
as dueling was for
the individual.

will Iraq sink the administration?????

The larger the game,
the more desperate the outcome.

the Toronto Maple Leafs look like they are going to ride their goalie to the big game...

News From a Distant Planet:

In a major catastrophe, certain young
family members of the Tri-Planetary Council
have taken to "buzzing" the planet Earth.
The ramifications of this are huge, certainly
setting back the possibility of contact
for at least an Aeon.

The largest fault of the left
has been to allow themselves
to be classified in generic terms.

The largest fault of the right
has been to exist period.

smokin' day in the political world...Rice survives 9/11 commission...barely...Ben-Veniste, Kerrey, and Roemer nearly ate her...but she is a smart character...it seems that the culpability will be found in the intelligence community...the Bush administration will be scolded...which is bad news for them as the catastrophe in Iraq continues....

Those who resist a given system
must be made aware of the fact
that they are a necessary product
of the system they battle against.

26 soon...getting old...i feel more like 52...of a wizened mind...not literally...actually that doesn't make any sense....

Humour is the ultimate
end of enlightenment.

Condoleeza Rice to testify tomorrow...one gets the sense that the administration hangs upon her ability to smooth things out...

The guys and i have found a place a bit south of where we are now...we picked numbers out of a hat to figure who gets what room...i had first choice...i am eternally lucky...

There is certainly very little
to suggest that there is
only one or two.

can't get A Mighty Wind out of my head...Eugene Levy is a genius...so too is Catherine O'Hara...

"Whoever wants music instead of noise, joy instead of pleasure, soul instead of gold, creative work instead of business, passion instead of foolery, finds no home in this trivial world of ours." -Hermann Hesse.

We are always thinking
in terms of a dichotomy.
It should be entirely obvious
that everything can be made
into nebulous super-clusters.

tyme fer thuh olde playoff-bearden...

There are none in hell
that are pure evil.

looked at an apartment today...rainy and miserable...nothing to be done...can only hope for brighter days/daze...

Evil is anything
that must be embraced
just to stay alive.

Steppenwolf...i don't know how Hesse did it, but i am he...never have i encounter such a concise explanation of myself...

News From a Distant Planet:

On the distant planet students
are divided according to their
temperament. In order to
facilitate positive learning
environments, students that are
aggressive are placed with others
that have similar aggressive levels.
If a student is found to have even
greater levels of aggression, they
are placed in an environment with
other exceedingly aggressive students.
Thus, each student's childhood experience
will be within the context of equalized power.

writing an essay for a friend...going to write on Herman Hesse's Steppenwolf...the thesis will revolve around the avarice of the bourgeois in that time...has to be done for sunday...is a research paper...so i'll have to get to a big library...shit...

Haiku #6

Pond with an industrious beaver,
soft pine needles carpet the forest floor
leading to the termite mounds punctuating the distance.

the search for an apartment continues...want to be closer to the downtown core...but still within anonymity's fringes...

If an entity in your dreams
were to realize that they are a
production of your subconscious
would they despair?

turns out we aren't getting yesterday's apartment....got to keep searching...

One should always
remember that a lie
cannot be so separated
from the truth that it
becomes completely detached.

found an apartment today...we talked to a cabbie who told us the area was pretty decent...just as we were deliberating, this short, red-faced man asked us through his lower teeth for a "ten"...if we look like dealers, then the neighborhood can't be that bad.

Why is it that you feel
that you can determine
what another's happiness
is?

Apparently
guns prove that laws are correct.

Eek!

For the self there is always black and white;
for the other there can only be grey.

band practice today...no sleep thus i'll be sure to wreck out...big xes for me...at some point i'm going to be in desperate need for regular shut-eye...

Three days before Jesus' execution,
someone from the 20th century went
back in time in a fit of guilt-ridden
religious ecstasy. They brought with
them an M-14 semi-automatic rifle
and proceeded to teach Peter how to
use it. At first Peter was confused, but
the time traveler was able to convince him
of what was to happen. When Jesus was
brought before the High Priest Caiaphas and
the Sanhedrin, Peter stopped the guards
from beating Jesus by firing into the air.
Everyone stepped back as Peter undid the
Lord's manacles. "What the fuck art thou
doing Petros?" asked the Lord. "They're going
to torture you until you look like ground beef,
Rabbi," answered Peter. "What?" "And then
crucify you!" Peter interrupted. "Fucketh that!"
said Jesus. As Peter tried to lead the Messiah away,
guards came to stop them. "What now Petros?"
asked a nervous Son of Man. "Watch" and Peter
blew away the Temple guards. Thus, mankind
was never saved and our would-be Saviour became
the symbol for the National Rifle Association.

second time around...was more enjoyable this time...the subtle nuances came forward in delicate jewels..

Dying immediately is preferable
to getting shot in the stomach
and having lots of time to realize
that yes, you are dying, and for
the first time truly investigate death.

i'm a masochist...going to see The Passion again...to the slaughter i go...

Theoretical Problem #2

You are extremely close with a high-profile drug dealer,
though you don't know how high-profile. You have known
him since childhood. He has never done anything out of
malice. You are awoken by a phone call just after 3 in the
morning. It is your friend. You can barely make out what
he is saying. You quickly get dressed and drive out to his
place. The door is locked. You knock continuously. You end
up having to climb in through a window. You enter the livingroom
and see about a pint's worth of blood splattered on the floor.
You call your friend's name. He answers from the bathroom.
You rush in and find him hovering over a female body that is
draped over the tub's edge. Her hair is matted with blood,
and her skin looks inhumanly pale. Your friend is completely
distraught. He keeps mumbling through sobs about how he
tried to save her, but she overdosed. You immediately go to
phone an ambulance. He rushes out and stops you, staring
frantically and repeating that you can't, he'll get caught, his business
associates will kill him, and that you have to help him get rid of her.
What do you do?

some girl just called...speaking in some other language...calling me by name however...what a surreal day...

Humanity is one big
game of telephone tag.

i keep getting phone calls..15 so far...from some dude who i can't understand telling me to bring the girl i brought last week somewhere down the street...this is some elaborate joke...but i'm playing along...i used every voice i know...including Clint Eastwood...i think i'll freak out next time and see what happens...

We are all organic robots
infused with some essence
that we have labeled consciousness.

Between the stark contrast of black
and white reality, there is a thin line
called the 'grey area.' Humans excel
at taking this line and expanding it into
impossible complexity, essentially rendering
any solution an unattainable spectre.

sitting around trying to figure out whether or not to paint the apartment...so far no good...we apparently found a place...but i'll leave it up to the others to determine...

My dick has next to no influence on my personality.
Only rarely does my dick interrupt my thoughts.

thus i am ubermensch....

News From a Distant Planet:

The Tri-Planetary committee has selected the
distant planet to provide ethical monitor for
the species capture and study mission. It
had been discovered that planets such as Earth
have developed a deep psychic fear of the
Tri-Planetary astronauts. The distant
planet will monitor the project to ensure
that the captured subjects will be treated
gently and non-invasively.

editing last night...tremendous fun....laughed so damn hard...

Haiku #5

Tepid-watered pond
lined with stripped-bark Birch trees
shrug-shirking the rudiments of winter.

back at the farm today...birthday party for roommate's mother...held in my hands a music from long passed days/daze....

Theoretical Problem #1

Your best friend's girlfriend has broken up
with him and he is beside himself. He's been
staying at your apartment and has barely moved.
You get a strange phone call at work from her
where she says that she needs to speak with
you. You tell her you'll call her back. You tell
your best friend, who figures that she is trying
to communicate with him through you. You call
her back and agree to meet her at a neutral pub.
Your friend preps you for every possible question.
You get to the pub early, but she is already there.
She seems a little over-dressed. You get to talking,
and she tells you thatr she isn't ready to talk
about the breakup yet; she is still too shaky.
Drinks come and go and you start to get bleary.
She seems fine and keeps asking what's wrong.
You black out. You wake in her apartment.
You aren't wearing anything. She tells you that
the two of you had fucked. You say that that is
impossible. She describes perfectly a tattoo on your
chest, and then tells you exactly how it went in the
order of the positions. You realize that her description
fits your routine exactly. She tells you that your best
friend did all sorts of bad things to her including rape
and battery. She wants to get back at him, intending
to do so via yourself. You tell her that you don't believe
her. She shows you a video tape of one such occasion
taken from a concealed camera. If you choose not to help
her she will show your best friend and the world photos she
took of you in bed last night. What do you do?

had a first day of spring barbecue today...surrounded by friends and their too-young-to-have-kids children...couldn't take the noise...said nothing...hid in my cerebrum....

America is where ancient gods
retire in their anonymity.

phone call day/daze...gonna see some people...mustn't get drunk...it'll be a long way home...

"If all will collapse into one,
then what will that collapse into?"

zen koan...paradox...need to start editing something soon...too much wine...leaf win....over tough competition...lack of subject matter=sign off...

True Story of an Ingenious Hoax:

In the 1930s Troy Hugh, a successful artist,
became disenchanted with the elitism of
high society. He was asked to produce a
painting for a charity auction. When he
heard that no one "common" would be granted
entry, he worked on some pieces and displayed
them around the exterior of the patron's
mansion. They were all painted signs that
read "picnic parties welcome," "free merry-go-
round for the children," and "family parties welcome."
The patron was horrified to find her mansion
bombarded with children and adults from a
different caste.

Haiku #4

Copse by the rail bridge
a lethargic stream sluicing by
Spring yawns as it shoves Winter.

little to report...learned next to nothing yesterday...a blip in my life i won't recall five years hence...just part of the theme...time for some inspiration...Henry Miller always seems to do the trick in these moments...

News From a Distant Planet:

On the distant planet peoples' brains are
able to alter mind-sets instantaneously.
When an individual realizes that they
have some sort of character flaw, they
are able to alter their demeanours
immediately. On Earth when one realizes
they are controlling, they have to undergo
a process of change. On the distant planet
this process is actualized in a moment.

searched the internet for jobs today...spent hours at it...came up with next to nothing...used different job locating search-engines....didn't have any results for counter-intelligence or espionage...hitman and prostitute were out as well...gonna be harder than i thought...

Haiku #3

A lonesome Evergreen,
flanked by empty Poplars
across a honeyed filed,
stirs in its windy tallness.

new meds...how exciting...284 bucks worth...need coverage...trineuralmyalgia...no brain cancer...darn pleased...

Haiku #2

winter-fallowed field;
a boxer charging across memories
of Hungarian Kommondor tramplings.

a gentle exercise today...brushed the farm out of our ailing canine...preparing her for the vet...won three ping-pong games to collect six bucks off a nascent brother...hail to the king...

News From a Distant Planet:

On the distant planet all look vastly
different. There are no prejudices
based upon appearance as everyone
is baffled by eachother's countenance.

no band practice yesterday...thought the dog was dying...just a bloody nose...she sneezed on my leg and bloodied my pants...the bitch....the farm is always tranquil...pastoral feeling good for a few hours...then back to the city...where there are noises aplenty.

We are brainwashed
into thinking
we are not brainwashed.

endless abstract days/daze...no much to speak of in terms of dynamism...lack of focus certainly feels like a disease...my left eyelid won't stop twitching..will see doctor on the morrow...decided not to worry about what position the leafs find themselves in come the playoffs...screw it...if hockey is all i can come up with, then i'd better sign off...

Haiku #1

inkbrush evergreen atop the drumlin
waves at a glacier that passed long ago

future...future...future...hmmm...gotta do something with my life apparently...it is there...which way...we'll see...

Some may be inclined to believe
that terrorism is an art.

they strike again!...and in Spain...perfect timing for the Bush campaign...and more will watch hockey..just the types that hockey doesn't want...

All the important 'firsts' noted
in history weren't actually firsts.

strep-throat...going back to Toronto in the morning..well...later this morning...Montreal has had it with me, but the eating has been good....looking forward to a refreshed start to a new project...what?...haven't a clue...

There is always
a final option.

saw Sylvia tonight...Gwyneth ain't bad...the movie managed to hover just above ennui and just below madness...some sullen stuff, however...

One cannot go too wrong
if they constantly ask themself,
"Did it have to be this way?"

took four movies in succession to wean me from 'the saviour terror'...Tombstone, Joe Kidd, The Missing, and School of Rock...am reasonably certain that mutilation images will no longer pierce me (no pun intended) every time i close my eyes...

Jesus, the undead zombie terror of Nazareth
stormed from his sepulchre outside Jerusalem,
having required three days and nights to push
the stone from the opening, and terrorized the
city folk. Three Roman legions were sent to the
scene, only to be mauled by the very-pissed-off
son of God. He hadn't known that he'd be
resurrected as a zombie lord.

the day after...something about that movie left a definite impression...nothing, of course, about the beauty of a gentle teacher...but about his catastrophic end...is this what people who adhere to Christianity are to remember? don't make any sense....

The word 'societal' looks
a lot like the word 'suicidal.'

upon reflection...if one breaks down the Jesus movie...take away its historical/religious significance...pretend you don't know the guy and story...all you have is a movie of someone getting the living shit mutilated out of them...now where's the moral value?

The word 'quiet' looks
a lot like the word 'quit.'

saw The Passion of the Christ this evening...yikes!...a packed theatre of teary-eyed and outraged folk...i kept having this vision of Clint Eastwood circa The Good the Bad and the Ugly coming out of nowhere to rescue Jesus...blowing away centurions and Pharisees with his six-guns...then Jesus insisting that this is what he has to do...unfortunately Clint don't understand Aramaic...

to tell the truth...i found the movie quite painful...particularly the moments that flashed back into Jesus' life...when he wasn't bloodied and mangled...but rather gentle in his teachings...like a Semitic Buddha...that didn't have water-retention problems...and could make a mean table...the actress who played Mary Magdalene was beautiful...and i couldn't help but have lewd thoughts knowing she was once a prostitute...shame on me!

It ain't worth shootin'
if ya can't shoot steady.

watched Open Range...typical western plot with a few twists...aaron if you read this, check it out...Robert Duvall's character is worth it...kind of like how Sam Elliot's character is worth it in We Were Soldiers...am, however, ready fer the pullins'...got me a philly and she ain't done worshipin'...sheeeittt...

The more one ponders,
the more ridiculous
everything becomes.

sore throat better...last night it was unbearable...been thinking about metabolism...didn't get very far...the thoughts were digested...witticism is ostensibly lost in my case...damn...

The notion of stability
is dialectically opposed
to nature.

sore throat....goddamn....am supposed to party tonight...don't know...want to see Fog Of War...ever since steve reveled in the bloody thing...a rainy Montreal day....

A Lesson in the Word: America
(a story in anagrams)

came cram mar crime ire era CIA

in Montreal with the little darling...we cant sleep...read a little Even Cowgirls Get the Blues...Robbins is okay in my books....

True Story of an Ingenious Hoax:

During the American Rebellion, Benjamin Franklin
published an account of how much the British
were paying their Hessian conscripts. The truth,
however, was that the Hessians weren't being paid
at all. When the Hessians read Franklin's article,
they assumed that they were being hoodwinked
by their superior officer. A minor revolt ensued,
throwing the British army into momentary confusion
to the soundtrack of Benjamin Franklin's laughter.

News From a Distant Planet:

On the distant planet psychologists
have given up on the notion of solving
repressed traumatic experiences. They
turned the matter over to the scientist at
the Academy for Cerebral Well-Being.
The scientist were able to develop mnemonic
extraction techniques, that would isolate
and remove the damaged memory, and replace
it with a logical memory structure that flowed
with the concurrent experiences from the traumatic
episode.

off to Montreal tomorrow...watched movies in my normal sleepless state...saw Levity...desperately depressing and fascinating...

If one could breath on Venus,
they'd be able to look up into
the sky and wave to their friends
on the other side of the planet.

blew an intercostal muscle during the last song of band practice the other day...felt like someone separated a rib with a crowbar...thus, i was unable to make it to the colossal editing session scheduled for that evening...been reading about that crazy-bearded Whitman...what a character...but do lengthy lines make a poet great?...

If one wishes to ponder the
multifarious nature of the
universe, they must but
stare into their palm.

Frank Sinatra saved my life...i prayed to the cosmos...and Frank answered...i am to do it 'my way'...it is all in a sentence...verbalized ideas require a slathering of words..the sentence...

News From a Distant Planet:

On the distant planet artists are
prized above all other professions.
Artists are able to continue their work
as it is the method by which cultural
legacies are left.

internet not working at me 'ouse!...band practice..can't hear a damn thing...gonna be a long night...gotta do some emergency editing for the screenplay from 5296...we're talking 80+ pages...band practice saps one's creative abilities...just want to sleep...

Truth is at the head
of a trail of dead bodies.

The Corporation is being broadcasted in TVO tonight...seeing it again makes one aware of the dire need for legitimate dialogue...but we won't...and we're all going to hell....

True Story of an Ingenious Hoax:

In 1906 57 year-old Berliner Wilhelm
Voight, a failure who had spent the
better part of his life in jail, noticed
the respect accorded members of the
elite Prussian guard. He purchased
a used captain's uniform and immediately
was treated with respect. Comfortable
with his new ruse, Voight entered a
Prussian guard barracks and told them
he had a special mission. He commandeered
a train and traveled to the town of Kopenick
with his unit. His men cordoned off city
hall and brought the mayor to Voight for
interrogation. After convincing the local
police chief of his authority, he proceeded
to question the town treasurer. He threatened
the man with legalities who then turned over
the town's financial records and money to the
pseudo-captain. Voight ordered his troops
to escort the mayor to Berlin for further
questioning. Voight then took a train back
to Berlin, only to emerge as his real (and much richer)
self when he arrived. Authorities in Berliner
realized that they had been swindled. Voight
was captured trying to flee Germany a few days
later. He was sentenced to four years, but the
public's mirthful support of the ruse prompted
Kaiser Wilhelm to issue a pardon. Voight later
acted in the theatres of America, re-enacting the
swindle he had pulled on the Prussian guard.

Hidden in the Word: President
(a story in anagrams)

desire siren piper pride
spite tripe pest serpent.

Toronto days/daze...looking for a new apartment...bed bugs have won..we give up...

News From a Distant Planet:

The distant planet has been in touch
with several planets for some time.
There are two planets in particular
that have joined with the distant
planet to establish the Tri-Planetary
Database. This organization
is devoted to compiling a compendium
on the natural histories of the three
planets.

Recently, Earth was discovered to have
intelligent life. That section of the Cosmos
has now been cordoned off.


friend withdrawal...been an asshole since sunday afternoon...i'm a mood anti-chameleon..

The truth is that i'm thirsty.

I'm a writer, see me dance;
before i write to you i do
stretches; I jog on the spot
to prepare for you. I'm limber
and ready for your needs.

fuck u

One is equally disgusting
as their own disgust.

evening...blustery Newmarket...Southern Ontario...coffee on the corner and i am reborn...what will be the future?...my kamerad asked...when my mug is empty says i...

News From a Distant Planet:

On the distant planet a group
of scientists at the Centre for
Planetary Comprehension
have developed technology
that allows one to perfectly
express their thoughts/emotions/sensibilities.
A helmet is fitted and all of one's
facets are represented in
three dimensions. Others
can 'plug into' the thought-shape
to download the array of
communicated blitzkrieg.

detox day...feeling better...when one's body is less poisonous, so too are their thoughts...today will be spent in thought...climaxing in a classic hockey match-up between the Canadiens and Maple Leafs...a glorious evening indeed...

Would the characters in our
dreams despair if they were
to find out that they are
merely products of our unconscious?

went to the Royal Ontario Museum today...colossal waste of time...been on a bender for a week...it always happens this way...now i'm moody and sullen...the old brain could use some sunshine...but i can't reach her on the phone...

News From a Distant Planet:

On the distant planet there is an organization
devoted to the proper historical placement of
individuals according to their sensibilities. The
Planetary Society of Situation Temporality, PSST
for short, concerns itself with placing individuals
in their most favourable societal and historical niche.
Recently a young man applied to PSST for a
grant to live two hundred spans in the past.
The individual's life and biochemical patterns
were studied, and it was found that they qualified
for Direct Insertion. Direct Insertion
is available only to those in dire need of a temporal
relocation. The individual was downloaded into
a computer to live in a virtual facsimile of the
distant planet two hundred spans ago.

...got back to the Toronto area today...less fearsomely cold here...am developing several ideas regarding the immersion of humans into the galactic community....

Why are there razor blades
underneath your words?

its freezing here in the northern capital...the others are in the other room watching Benny and Joon...the Leaf game exclaims above my keyboard...there are paintings on the walls that i did years ago and gave away as gifts...at the time i thought i might have talent, but as i see them now...i realize my complete lack...which is fine...on the wall sits a sullen-looking portrait of Baudelaire that was painted by a friend some years ago...he possessed talent...

to some degree, i wish i had taken some art classes in high school...i was more focused on playing the trombone...a ridiculous instrument for a ridiculous person...

There's a story of an elderly man
obsessed with his death. For thirty
designed and chiseled away at his
tombstone. One day, when he had
been working for many hours, his
chisel slipped from his grip and plunged
into his brain, killing him instantly.

in Ottawa, behind the parliament buildings, there's a stray cat sanctuary...it was built in the late 70's and looks similar to a series of little apartments...the cats function together like a colony...Canada's capital rules...

News From a Distant Planet:

On the distant planet no one
has a static job. People are
rotated within fields determined
by their aptitudes. A doctor will
not only perform typical medical
tasks, but everything clerical with
regards to the administration of
medical care. A garbage collector
one day will be a data-entrist the
next. Thus the entirety of the
society encounters no income schisms,
and the resultant subjugation.

got to Ottawa yesterday...'s been a rather drunken affair...from the moment i stepped from the car...friends of liberated natures combined with a little booze leads to beatification...played with my friend's little boy...we wrestled and he kicked my ass...have rug burns on my forehead...everyone here seeks to goad me into verbal duels...but i am no pistolero...i'm a saber-man...i like to think my wit is like Occam's razor...but, in the end, i am still a fucking idiot.....

News From a Distant Planet:

On the distant planet, citizens have the right
to commit a crime in order to prevent catastrophe.
Recently, several youths blocked the rerouting of a subway line.
When the authorities came in, the youths claimed article 5; a
statute that calls for immediate investigation of any perception
of colossal danger. After a brief investigation, the authorites
found that the Subway line would have destroyed the habitat
of numerous and precious species that the distant planet
has committed to protect. The would-be dissidents were
heralded as heroes.

beforing finally falling asleep this morning, i had an aleatory experience...as my thoughts dwindled and searched for the oneirisphere...an electric snap resonated in my skull, just like when you turn the power button off and on rapidly, nothing really changing as the computer does not shut down..so to was it in my brain...i shut off and came right back on.

when i did fall asleep, i dreamt of nearly dying...what bothered me when i awoke was that i hadn't been uncomfortable or fearful whilst in the dream-state...my subconscious wants to kill me!

During the American Civil War
there was a standoff somewhere near
Shenandoah where battalions of
the two armies stood behind wooden paling
merely a couple hundred yards from each other.
Each side awaited the initial artillery volley.
Every man stood in anxious motionlessness,
fearful that a hand swiping the sweat from
their faces would trigger a lead response.
As the Yanks and Confederates eyed each other
through squinting manly eyes, two cashed-out
dogs ran into the center of the battlefield and proceeded
to screw. Both sides erupted in harsh laughter, cheering
the ragged animals on. A brief unified respite.

Reality is a line (often brittle)
thickened by ever-morphing
values dependent upon
individual ideas of life
multiplied into a collective.

managed a couple hours of dream time...saw Vanilla Sky this morning at the point of desperate exhaustion...felt a little vertigo while watching Tom Cruise's character die...need to see the original...a friend had told me about it years ago...only just made the connection...but that's because i'm a dumb-ass...

I was thinking about how i saw Philadelphia yesterday...Neil Young's song came on at the end...raised all sorts of ephemeral associations...typically about the fragility of life...and the cliche precious qualities...

i make everything ugly....

News From a Distant Planet:

In the early years of space travel,
the NASA equivalent on the distant planet
funded itself entirely by bartering
with the intelligent species found
on newly explored planets.
They, however, know well enough
to avoid Earth, which has the most
persuasive hawkers in the multiverse.


staying up late and not sleeping means teletoon...there is some ingenious stuff on when the world no longer makes sense...(as if it ever did)...

CNN is particularly horrible at 5am...public interest stories of low caliber...a small dose for a hopeless addict...

Dreams are the closest
to non-atavism
that we can get.

if i don't get some real sleep soon i'm going to die....watched Philadelphia...been a few years since the last time...there was no conflict in me on that issue...am currently listening to Henry and June on tv in the other room while i type...seems that i'm doing most things in the glow of a computer screen...

apparently the singer from Coldplay endorsed John Kerry...this is one of those political musicians...at concerts he has 'fair trade' written on his hands...Kerry's party is generally in favour of NAFTA and the FTAA...what a fuckwit...

Probability has its place,
but to consider it as
all-encompassing
in relation to logic
restricts the directions
our intellectual evolution can go.

friday the 13th is fading...how much darkness tonight?
did little other than strum a guitar.

Saw a hole in reality today...was in the lobby of my building waiting for an elevator...one went from the sub-basement to the 22nd floor without hitting other floors..flash it was there...no one else noticed...

We are all prejudiced.
Want a simple test?

Take time to imagine a scene.
Perhaps a street with a crowded market.
Take a look at everyone there.

Now,
who is excluded?


more sleeplessness...have the beard to prove it...going to keep it too...been real shadylike lately...the other day i passed an overly perfumed beauty as she entered my building...in utter contrast, i am sure she was overwhelmed by my man-musk...typical nonverbal clash of sensibilities...going to Ottawa soon, then hopefully to Montreal to see the little darling...and with no time to spare either...

To see the future one must
only stare at ONE'S
palm.

Spent the day reading Dharma Bums and learning every damn U2 song on guitar...only because i know all the damn lyrics...the road most traveled...if it weren't for the Edge that band would be in the same ranks as Cave In...who's Cave In?...exactly...

There is no end.


was watching Much Music in a sleepless brume...No Doubt came on with that Madonnaesque song...it's my life...or something like that...i know what my anarchist friends would say about it perpetuating an image...and other cliche's...i just like it when people put their asses on the line...Gwen Stefani does it...part of it is obviously satire...she's not afraid to look good and wretched in one shot...she was a monster in perfect makeup...an angel in tear-smeared mascara...

politics will kill the artist...this is not controversial...we have voices of confirmation that extend all the way to the COSMIC EGG...

Apparently,
we're all searching for the big cosmic
yes.

what do you do when you can't seem to say anything? what i'm referring to is the speed at which everyone moves...i seem to move at a completely different pace...i've been told that i should do things that everyone else does so as to get into the pack...but that's just it...when one is in the pack they can't see around them...i don't care about the conformity issue...that isn't what i'm talking about...i'm referring to an inability to see into the distance while crouched in a group..hell, the conformity issue disappears after a few years outside highschool...you become grateful when people are like you...no matter how remote...there is no answer...

How articulate a person is
says nothing as to whether (or not)
they possess genius.

band practices are killer...if things don't go well, that is, if we don't completely rule, i get all upset...the last practice founds us unable to complete a newer song...

Lately i have been absolutely lost...picked up Dharma Bums for perhaps the sixth time...i always find that there is salvation in those pages...would've grabbed more Henry Miller but his optimism is shrouded by poverty (moral)...whenever anyone hears the name Kerouac...they think On the Road...Dharma Bums is much better....Off the Road by Carolyn Cassidy beats On the Road any day...

Picked up another Tom Robbins book after finishing Still Life With Woodpecker...gonna give him another shot...writing's good, but the subject matter less so...between that book and Dharma bums, also read A Moveable Feast...which is about me...fuck

In a status quo lifetime, one loses about a handful
of good friends to death. None will get truly
desensitized.

In a war, there interval between sorrow and
survivalist-emotional-auto-pilot is minuscule.
After a short span one becomes entirely desensitized.

In the slums of America, desensitization is a slow,
excruciating process as emotions along with lives
are bled to death.

(To the tune of 'Battle Hymn of the Republic')

Who is the robot
that infiltrates our planet?

And plants a virus
no one sees,

But in a week
it's an empty planet,

It will be a hero
to the Beta-Thx species.

...And its name is Go-o-o-od...

(with apologies)

saw City of God last night...it is about a poverty-stricken section of Rio in Brazil...freaking hardcore...certain scenes are burned into my memory...

been reading Still Life With Woodpecker, by Tom Robbins...a friend of mine recommended it...story is a little kooky, but the allusions are brilliant...gonna read another to get a better taste...guy is almost on par with Robert Anton Wilson...

News From a Distant Planet:

On the distant planet the threat
of nuclear annihilation has been
solved. The "anti-bomb" was
invented some 31 spans ago.
Essentially, whenever a nuke
would be launched, the anti-nuke
be launched to intercept the threat.
By some miracle of physics the
'anti-bomb' exactly neutralizes
the activity of its shadow.

Access to information comes predominantly
from news media. Can we trust these sources?

Challenge: track back the owners of owners
of owners and see how many hands control
our access to information, and the nature of
what we hear. Then try to discern the agendas
of these INDIVIDUALS.

The answers should hardly be surprising.

close call last night...wont say what...but involved death in an allegorical sense...long phone calls last night...one that was therapeutic...one that involved editing...also therapeutic..and one that kicked my ass...hence the close call...

my artist cousin arrives from Detroit today...should be a barn-burner of a weekend...

News From a Distant Planet:

On the distant planet women are
fed up with premature ejaculation.
Scientists at the Erotisphere institute
have worked hard to concoct a
medication that staves off male climax
until the pheromones produced
by a female orgasm are released.
The product was met with jubilation
and for the first time in the history
of the distant planet, males and females
enjoy mutually orgasmic sex.

The death rate among male seniors,
however, has skyrocketed.

Dreams could be the
meeting point for all dimensions.

If dreams are the meeting point
for all dimensions
the abstract complexities
of dreams are explained.

Somewhat.


i woke up today with a screenplay sitting in my head...a very simple two-person short...a non-overtly-sexual porn..a guy and a gal...she is a legendary pornstar...he is an admirer that has set up a pretext of filming a masturbation scene...but has told her that his 'benefactor' wants her to merely act as if on a date with male character...there might be possibilities...

Even the most despicable
have a soft story.

talked to a buddy who is from the Democratic Republic of the Congo (Zaire)..he was explaining the political situation there...it seems that the president is a man not hell-bent on power..he has four vice presidents...three of which are in opposition...two that are/were rebel leaders...these vice presidents are in charge of the larger sectors of the economy...ie natural resources, security, etc...this president wanted peace and was willing to take a massive power-cut to do so...that is enlightenment...

News From a Distant Planet:

On the distant planet there is a major industry
devoted to the enhancement of the libido.
For some unknown reason the male libido
has become irascible. Males are aroused
until the moment they are ready to insert.
Overwhelming aversion know as "Coital Nausea"
ensues and the male is unable to continue.

Scientists are currently battling hard, for they
fear a dangerous subsiding of species propagation.

Complaints are the lubrication
for the machinery of revolution.

got a haircut today...the girl who worked me over was the type who aspires to be like 'J-Lo'...it was a meeting of binary opposites...me in my green Marxist-militia style jacket...and her in her...whatever you call it...fashionista for sure....couldn't understand me..couldn't understand her...we talked about cooking potatoes....when in doubt, go with food...

To see the universe
one must first close their eyes.

been reading some plays by Miguel Pinero...the stuff is real rap...overflowing hustler-speak...definitely welcome in the Second Canon...check the titles...The Sun Always Shines for the Cool...Midnight Moon at the Greasy Spoon...Eulogy for a Small Time Thief...real

Dreams are
the colostomy bags
of reality.

saw The Last Samurai...of course, it is what it is...Tom Cruise is one vacuous character...his co-star however was tremendous...thematically the movie held strength...

PBS is airing a story on the corruption of the FCC tonight...about bloody time...

i wonder if north america is going to run through Ricin hysteria...watch the news...you'll see..a massive amount of gullible people...

In almost every theology
impurity is the interference
of objects on light.

last two days have been band-intensive...the newer songs are shining...editing on friday went real well...the rest of the evening..less so...my buddy's house is packed full of mischief..he crashed at his girlfriend's so i had his room...one long unquiet night...

i hate football...

Ambition will push even
the most lethargic to
"give it a shot."

But doesn't death reveal
that to be so time-consuming?

been listening to Interpol for the majority of the day...feel dopey...that is their effect/affect...pick one and run....gonna edit tonight...which, for some reason, excites me...it is the material...screenplay in 5293...

Cultures that have traditionally
hated eachother are secretly
happy to see eachother
when they have migrated abroad.

4 successive days of sudsy belly...not really a bender, but today feels like it...

i have spoken before on the possibilities of a creative renaissance...i am afraid that a world-wide event is improbable...historically, when heights of learning are reached, a repressive mystical entity enters the equation and plunges into a dark age...if we examine our time, it would seem that we are the dark age that followed the culture explosion of the late fifties....which hit its acme with the hippies before descending into the hedonism and decadence of the 70s...everything gets smaller as time passes on...until the robot has its say...

What did the insane think about
the moment before they "lost their minds?"

for no good reason i was watching CNN...which is, of course, a joke...there was, however, a discussion on censorship and expletives...one side argued the patch method, which is simply fixing the immediate problems with legislation that holds temporarily...the other side was the restructuring the entirety method, which is in favour of overhauling the entire system based on contemporary social sensibilities...thus, an argument between right and left respectively...conservatives merely want to maintain the beast, while liberals want to kill the beast and find a more salutary one to ride on...these terms are, of course, anachronistic, but it will be some time before people ubiquitously realize that...

The word 'no' is a lexical ninja.
It preys on ideas.

i was sittingly drunkenly on the bus last night...halfway between sleep and spinning consciousness...when this dude starts talking to several of us passengers...he tells us that we need to find God...and that we could do it through His word...another drunk, who was standing at the door waiting to get off, became angry and told the apostle to shut up and that he wipes his ass with God's word...after the drunk had left the apostle told me that that man needed salvation...i asked him what 'the word' said about abortion...he said it was a muderous sin...what about Muslims? i asked...they are heathens who worship Lucifer he said...i kind of lost it...."so your God is real strong eh? why don't you put him on a tee and drive him up the fairway, be sure to check the cup, you might have gotten a hole in one...right up my ass!" i'm not sure what i was trying to say exactly, but i got up and slipped as i tried to kick his shin...the bus driver stopped and yelled at me to get off...i laughed all the way home...

Jumpy people are the robot's masterpiece.

it looks like the Bush administration is going to escape responsibility again...the intelligence community will take another shot...this is more palatable to the administration because the 'intelligence community' sits in an abstract position...one can't readily identify a figurehead within that network...David Kay's report to the Senate committee clearly indicated the non-existence of WMD, but at the same time justified the war...i don't understand why democrats haven't isolated the threat to what it really was...a threat against American economic interests in the area...at the same time, Kay indicated that it has become increasingly clear that there are greater threats in terms of WMD...these include Iran and Libya...but no movement has been made on that front...

"No, I'm enjoying this period
of my life actually...So I don't think
I need to consider the future right now,
but thanks anyway."

i was having a discussion with a friend about whether i would get rich from writing books...i said that it was almost impossible...they didn't seem to understand that those who control an artist's emergence into the world are typically concerned with profit...historically, artists who made any kind of money were those with rich patrons who bought based on the opinions of their upper-class colleagues...

The prettiest poem ever written
was by a drunkard in a city somewhere
who couldn't spell.

today is the David Kay testimony on the proliferation of WMD in Iraq...preliminary remarks from Kay suggest that American intelligence was extremely faulty...if this shapes up to be a scandal, who gets the blame?

It appears that John Kerry's momentum continues...i don't like any of the candidates except for maybe Kucinich...

Humans make gods out of a fear
of not being heard.

there's this series of commercials that have home-videos of different individuals, almost like a personals ad...the screen fades to black with text saying, "more people donate to Cystic-Fibrosis charities when they know someone dying from it. Now you know someone." Every time these commercials air, i know where they are going and find myself extremely mournful...these people aren't succumbing to despair...most of their videos are in hopeful tones...

That which intellectuals desire
are usually contrary to their aptitudes.

learned how to play "Needle in the Hay" by Elliott Smith...some friends feel that i sound like the dude...i'm not so sure...he's much cooler/talented...the bassist in my band wrote one of the most kick-ass bass lines that i have heard in some time...it isn't overly funk-flashy, but it fits the song as if it were meant to be played in that manner...am really nervous about the lyrics for this song....it is quite possible that the musicianship exceeds my vocal ability..if so, my voice would be incongruous and detract from the presence...

DAS REICH DER ZWEI
(nation of two)

All relationships are merely
the construction of an essence
called "you in relation with the other."
When breakup occurs,
the withdrawal feelings are not for the other,
but rather for the constructed 'third' essence.

was a little tipsy on the bus...in this state i can look at people favourably...there was a Russian couple with their sleepy-eyed daughter....a Hispanic-looking girl who chewed gum brazenly...an eccentric older gentleman with spectacles perched at the tip of his nose...and the Cuban dude who sat next to me and eyed my discman as i listened to Frank Sinatra as if that music were incongruous...i loved them in that moment...when 'bittersweet symphony' by the Verve played everyone had a clutching sense of nostalgia about them...when 'When the Levee breaks' by Led Zeppelin came on they all seemed uniformly resigned to whatever dice life could cast...when the Dixie Chicks' cover of Fleetwood Mac's 'Landslide' slid into my brain, everyone was priceless...of course, i WAS tipsy...

the band practiced yesterday...for the first time in my band experience i had the distinct impression of a future with these guys....without delusion, naivete, and/or ego, i can say that we have a shot...a realistic one....

The apparatus of law
possesses a mechanical voice
while human experience
drones in the background.

been thinking about singing...won't be long before we record...have tons of lyrics to write...listened to 'My Way' by Sinatra for a while, trying to pump myself for the task...i wonder if the guy wrote all his own lyrics...i feel weird about singing sometimes..our songs seem more instrumental than conventional vocalized songs...there are long stretches between lyrics...kinda dadaist..but not really..

Octopus never hurt each other in fights,
they have intimidation contests.

at the CityTV building in Toronto there is a video-kiosk where one can leave a video message that, if chosen, is aired on television...it is called Speaker's Corner...tonight an individual came on complaining about his apparent inability to attract females..he was a twitchy guy that seemed either drunk or awkward...i tried to imagine his life...we are all so shallow...

In almost every occurrence of physical attraction
the desire to 'touch' is incredibly apparent.
What is it about grabbing the 'desired' and pulling it close
that produces satisfaction?

Isn't this somewhat violent?

had one of those rare moment of insanely sensitive nostalgia...i miss a lot of people...people i hadn't really thought of in a long while...this of course is what happens when one watches a humanistic WWII movie while suffering from an ambivalent bout of insomnia...friends afar...scattered...and then the greatest one of all...the one that brings warmth with just a thought....the only one who can cut me in half...the one who i irritate the living daylights out of...yeah, the one who trusts me as much as a beaten dog trusts a new master....i am lost....

If this dimension
is not the base of all possible dimensions,
then we are merely one of the choices not taken
by our counterparts in the base dimension.

saw this french film called Thomas in Love...the protagonist (Thomas) is an agoraphobic who sees people only through video-phone...it takes place probably within a hundred years from now...Thomas' insurance company, Globale, takes care of everything he might need...he, of course, can't leave his dwelling...his insurance-provided therapist enrolls him in a dating service that leads him to girl he falls in love with...she is a prostitute for the handicapped...a medical prostitute, sanctioned by the insurance company...she was placed there as an alternative to a prison term she would have had to serve...when Thomas first calls her company, he catches her in the midst of tears...this human side to her character intrigues him...the story goes from there...

In Thomas' world one can have sex without truly being in proximity to another person via a cybersex suit...would love to have an option like that....considering my girlfriend lives in Montreal...............

There are phraes in language
that indicate a seemingly
psychic perception
of forces behind the scene.

worked through some songs today...if this band ever gets off the ground it is sure going to be something...every time we play i get massive and tingly images of epic vistas and themes...these are of course mania-driven...we are thinking of adding a keyboardist who can sing backup...something that will complete and carpet the sound...

The delicate line
between eroticism and pornography
can only be sketched
by the individual.

...vaguely furious...something important to me afar off feels threatened...i'm being irrational..thus i am angry...

...i need to find a place where people are driven by the same forces that infuse me....every time i feel that i am in such an environment i find only elitism...where people are afraid to admit that they haven't read the book you are rabid with...you can see the lie in their twitching...politeness holds me from exposing them..i have been guilty of the same sort of untruth...how did it happen that in these circles books and art and film became status signifiers???

Humanists celebrate
optimistic underachievers.

the day after intense socio-political bombardment...feeling rather down about the whole thing...mass revolution seems the only viable answer...who wants death?....a campaign for 'hearts and minds?'...ruined, soiled term...do one's best...humans disappoint...regularly...

started reading Carl Sagan's Cosmos to ground myself in the realization of colossal non-importance...he views humanity with a mix of trepidation and splendid awe...can learn from that viewpoint...

The power of suggestion
lies within the realm
of typical phrases
associated with authority.

IE. "Fire drill"
"Form a line"

The Corporation had to be watched at the Carlton because repairs were commencing at the Bloor Street Cinema...the film was very striking...one had the sense of a colossal impending doom...there were moments when i was shifting around as rage coursed through me in paroxysms...this type of film should be mandatory material for classrooms...but as we know, anything of a 'subversive' nature gets weeded out...proponents on the right would probably comment with typical, 'the left sees everything in apocalyptic terms', rhetoric...i imagined myself in conversation with people i know on the more 'right' side of things, and only grew angry with what i imagined they would say...

there is little one can seem to do about the ubiquitously powerful corporations..though we have characters like Michael Moore doing some good work, i can't help but feel somewhat cauterized by everything around me..........

All people that are into any particular phase
or trend, be it pop stars, athlete's cereal, drugs, orgies, or whatever;
are under the hypnotic spell of the evil mage-master
Kronalius the Wicked.

Take Heed!

Today is Noam Chomsky day...two films at the Bloor Street Cinema...The Corporation and Power and Terror...

News From a Distant Planet:
The dead are not buried on the distant planet.
Even in death a citizen will serve a purpose.
Implanted in the lifeless body are various analytic devices.
The body is coated in an antifreeze solution before jettisoned into space.
The body once again becomes a vessel.
A vessel in search of cosmic life.

Survival Tip:
If you can imagine it,
it probably is.

The only thing remarkable about Dubya's address was Condoleeza Rice...she was smoking....

It takes the better part of a lifetime
for an individual to cultivate the experience necessary
to hold public office.

The problem, however, is that these people
represent ideals and paradigms that are
often 30 years obsolete.

State of the Union....who cares?...robots applauding robot speeches.......

News From a Distant Planet:
On the distant planet, violent criminals guilty of their crimes
are subject to execution. Recently an individual guilty of raping
and mutilating a small child was placed in the new 'family revenge box.'
The criminal is placed in a coffin-sized box that is fixed in the ground.
The body is fed intravenously and oxygen is circulated through a ventilation system.
A chamber is fitted overtop the box that functions like an outhouse.
As the family expels excreta, the condemned slowly is asphyxiated.

It is incredibly easy
to develop relationships
based upon mutual dislikes.

who cares...in Toronto a young girl had gone missing a number of months ago...her picture is everywhere...i can't imagine how clusterfucked her parents must be...we've reached that point where one can only hope for a body to turn up....a corpse that will bring closure...you try to imagine where she could be, but you don't quite have the capacity to think like a rabid predator...

Masturbation
is a tool
for those tired
of three dimensions.

..band practice..another page of editing...thoroughly slaughtered with weariness...am currently listening to recordings of long-dead poets...the oldest being Tennyson as recorded by Edison...freaky...ambition is lethargy...

The greatest world leader ever
will be the one
initially devoted to ending the human race.

blustery day....a day of ubiquitous sorrow...still searching for a panacea...everyone walking around with an insecure sense of self-importance...wondering about friends afar...and the dictator in his orchard...a tree-trunk turd that resists high-powered flushing...

Parents get mad
at fiscally-troublesome
understanding circumstances.

more editing..tried to write some songs...couldn't get that 'googly/chill' feeling that occurs when i've found something...my lyrics get real sullen...sound like a highschooler in his depressed cape...been waking early these days...by mid day i have nothing to look forward to...

Poetry is as the sound
of two
in conversation
with their heads tight together.

got a bad feeling...something is going down..can't tell if it involves me or not...last night i got into an extremely political discussion with an Indian, a German, a Hungarian, two Russians, and a Red-Cross volunteer of unknown origin...everyone, except the Russians, wanted to talk about Rohinton Mistry...the Russians argued with eachother about Chechens...i told them that Russian literature kicked ass in the 19th century...they looked at me blankly...i asked after Lenin's health...they left...the guy from India moved into the neighborhood a few weeks ago...am supposed to go for some Karaoke with him tonight...Jim Morrison will rise again and i'll get boo'd offstage for singing The End...then i'll try some Johnny Cash...'cuz i walk the line when the man comes around..hehe...i'm an idiot..

The complacent human lives for every crisis...
Dilemmas,
then,
are the suicidal solution to boredom.

friends in fragile states...those who remain strong have been scalded...walking around like cleansed lepers...Tropic of Cancer proposes that the world is dying...the only thing left to do is give the coup de grace and expedite a burial...fine with me...Jane's Addiction would have made an incongruent, yet strangely appropriate soundtrack to the book...the world is a brothel, a charnel house, a putrefied womb...whatever...

The most terrifying thing i have ever seen
was a portrait painted by a female artist
of a man who had raped her in a park one night.

woke up from a dream in which i was a confederate soldier...why i was on the South's side is beyond me...apparently i possessed the same knowledge as i do now, because i couldn't get my damned rifle to load....i was running around picking up partially-loaded rifles...i came across this thick-metaled, rusty machine that makes and loads bullets, but couldn't figure out how to use it...when we were overrun, the Yanks stood beside me as bewildered as anyone else at this technology...it is funny to think that an advanced technology can cause a respite from battle...

One day, after humans have long passed,
explorers will come to our planet and their
anthropologists will chuckle at how we
took our lives so seriously despite having
such a short lifespan.

so El Presidente wants back to the moon...then build a base to jumpstart travel to Mars...sure...fine with me...deflection of issue concentration for sure....if he had any idea about what he was talking about, then he would have mentioned the radical projects that NASA intends for comet research...what a disingenuous little Texan...

decided to read Tropic of Cancer for perhaps the 8th time...Miller is a fucker that is dear to my heart...his biography of Rimbaud (if you can call it that) was spectacular...i wish i hadn't sold the larger part of my book collection for spare parts to a now-defunct band van...i'm an idiot....

If everyone simultaneously decided to shut up
for once to actually listen,
the resultant silence would warp space
and give an intergalactic traveler the chance
to ask directions to the Helix Nebula.

another mundane wintry day...a bucolic lifestyle seems pleasant for about three days...then i get squirmy...a fast-paced thinker can only handle syrupy time-passage in minute portions...a friend and myself were discussing the Israeli/Palestinian issue for a while before we got pissed...literally...and that is about the only moral value the discussion can be said to have had...i don't live it...any of my thoughts are purely academic...i would think that, by now, mankind would be able to shrug off their anachronistic geographical relics...the fuckers....

History books a thousand years hence
will devote a sentence to the 20th century saying,
"Two opposing ideologies, primarily concerned with
economics slaughtered millions."

the worth of humans seems to fluctuate with their ability to discern what is bullshit in the media...North America, guilty of possessing the least perceptual worth, tends to buy into what they are being fed...i know this...i'm a guilty North American....

I'm a prisoner of every attempt at free will.

on a full stomach...when those primal influences on one's psyche are sated, they are free to consider reality from a non-need perspective...types like myself find emptiness despite being so full...when there are no needs i am despairing...i am forced to consider those things that would otherwise pass on without scrutiny...who was it that said 'when one looks into the abyss long enough they will find it staring back'..??..

In the animal kingdom,
the shaman of each species
warns of the 'curse of reason.'

found some old poems yesterday...one of which i considered my opus...looking over it again was invigorating...at least i can say that at one point in my life i had talent...i guess i've been suffering from a lack of inspiration...my muse is on hiatus...and when she manages to crawl back i'll kick her ass...i was having trouble deciding which CNN anchor is more attractive: Heidi Collins or Paula Zahn...i've settled on Heidi...Paula's smiles are a little disingenuous...besides, Heidi has a coldness to her that demands investigation...

i don't understand poplar trees...they are all packaged in tight swirls upward, but in winter the branches mimic the action of maple trees...as if they embrace the opalescent nature of winter...fuck...

'Destiny' is the rhetorical apparatus
that engages the semantics of futility.

i have the horrible tendency to unlock whenever i drink...i get expressive on matters that find me usually mute...i resultantly get accused of being drunk...as if my drunkenness forms an entirely new segment of my psyche...i do, however, make similar accusations against others when i find their sensibilities over-wrought with romantic platitudes...

The notion of the 'superhero'
becomes an unconscious exclamation
at the frustration of being
cauterized by laws and bureaucracy.

the election of a new mayor in Toronto...after the abdication of the previous' throne....brings a sense of newness..the former mayor had been ridiculous...with the new mayor an overhaul of the entire civil-service sector should begin...get the 'old-boys' out of their offices...A new police chief was on many Christmas lists...

as far as ousts are being mentioned..let's get CNN off the air...'the most trusted name in news'...bullshit...the least trusted name among humans outside America...take MTV and BET with 'em...why BET?...ask around...propagation of a irreconcilable image...culture-death...etc...

i have a song in mind that the band is going to play when people don't like our stuff...the type of music we play now is an intellect and testosterone based noise...the roots of each member in the band, however, is serious hardcore...if people didn't like us we'd start playing a ridiculously hardcore song, with lyrics that enumerate the damage i'll do to someone if they throw a bottle of water at me...i don't mind lit cigarettes, 'cuz i can smoke them after i smoke the fucker who threw it...you have to establish control...control...my least favourite word...

History ceases to note any location
in the geopolitical climate when the
prevalent powers withdraw their
endeavours from them.

i am reconsidering a statement i made earlier indicating what American author would go in the Ark with me...numerous people came to mind....Vonnegut, Kerouac, Henry Miller, Wright, Ferlinghetti...i had said Robert Anton Wilson, but for some reason feel that his work would have less meaning if i were in an end-of-time situation...how 'bout the bible? God is an American 'aint he? Oh...that's just Dubya...we better kick our heavenly father out soon...before he runs amok again...the funny thing about this is that as i was typing, 'your own personal Jesus' as covered by Johnny Cash was playing on the stereo...irony

If nothing cannot be
then how did it
come to be the recipe
for the 'Big Bang'?

finished Life of Pi while stewing in the tub for four hours...since i have a penchant for multi-tasking, problems arise...i am forced to turn the page with my nose as i brush my teeth, soap, and even shave...that millions of my fellow countrymen have read this book makes me somewhat proud to be Canadian...there is hope...i am sure many will wonder whether the story is true...i care not...what i experienced was a pause...what i mean by 'pause' is a departure from the banal and mundane nature of tedious existence...i sloughed off my CNN-induced worldliness and dreamily adopted a spiritual reclamation of Nature...in all (or as many as i could gather) its vagaries...the author, Yann Martel, seems to be a combination of a simplified Salman Rushdie and a mid-Siddarthan Herman Hesse...the protagonist is a bloody genius which is always impressive, and the story didactic...i learned a great deal about zoology...provided the author isn't full of shit...which is entirely possible...seeing as i'm full of shit whenever i write...not always, but i have a strange proclivity for bull-shitting in the midst of ornamental verbiage...the author does achieve what every author must if there work is to be credible...omnipotence...Martel does not appear to be fallible under casual scrutiny...he prefaces the work by discrediting his own endeavours, placing the onus on his narrator to establish a Sartrean co-creational relationship with the reader...in other words...he sure fooled me....

Of any cosmogony
there is just enough
to believe or disbelieve,
but to completely disregard
is folly.

someone recently asked me what author i would chose if i could only select one from the UK....i had little trouble with that one...i had to imagine myself in a Castaway scenario...what author would keep me from going nuts...William Blake...the fucker was crazy, thus taking away any fear on my part that would result from a ruthless psychological self-evaluation...a mystic...from the Middle East - Rumi...from India - Rushdie...from France (possibly the hardest) Rimbaud...U.S. - Robert Anton Wilson...Mexico - Fuentes...Russia - Chekhov (mostly due to the fact that he wrote stories)...Canada - Ondaatje (poetry)...Trinidad - Lovelace...Tanzania - Nyerere...the rest i haven't figured out yet...especially Germany...Goethe? Nietzsche? Marx? impossible...

Power as a variable in the equation
of practical philosophy overrides and twists
the result.

saw a movie about Lord Byron today...played by Johnny Lee Miller...there was a moment when young Byron was introduced to a writer's circle...unheralded poets at best who had not yet received (as if they could) the acclaim the first celebrity gained...he entered humbly into their midst and listened to their somewhat pretentious (but acceptable) ideas about literature...as i watched i wondered what would have sat there lurking behind his dead-pan expression...later on in his life he would have pulled a verbal Rimbaud...pissing on the old-fashioned, Neo-classical approach to aesthetics...Byron sat at the head of a table of revolutionary minds....Wordsworth...both Shelley's...Coleridge...his placement at the head was the result, of course, of his infamy...he sits as one of my heroes though he definitely be an unsavoury bastard...his genius is with without doubt...a glance at his play Cain reveals his vitality...

Neo-Romanticism and its late resurgence comes with a scourge...never has there been such bad, black-cape, charnel-house poetry since poetry's emergence.....

Mythology has taught us that
regeneration requires a
systematic overhaul of
prevalent ideas and BELIEFS.

"Unbeknownst to most humans is the fact that the brain is in Complete control. In an attempt to have more time for itself to decipher messages from Beta-Gorgos-Thx, the brain gave humans the 'mind' so that the humans would be preoccupied by a sense of self-importance...Thus deluded, humans can no longer interfere with genuine brain activity. The brain is free to operate as it will."

- Dr. Veiny Slupfy to his students
at the Cerebral Academy of 'How- to-Beget-a-Body-and-Keep-it-Under-
Control'

sometimes your words are misspelled Bobby; misspellings are the attempts of extra-dimensional beings to take over" - Mrs. Thurma Williams to her grade 3 student who later became a pot-smoking admiral of a shopping cart in downtown Paris.

had a dream that i was making a spontaneous movie....my family was the immediate audience...who responded with dubious frowns...i think it had to do with the plight of inner-city black communities...
went through some poetry today...mostly crap....wrote the bulk of them while watching Pinero...a surprising biographical black-and-white that stars Benjamin Bratt...typical self-destructive artist death plot...the dangers of poetic rebirth...

woke up in the middle of a dream...was sweating yet there was nothing about it that i could discern as unsettling...i was driving a monstrously large van and was doing my best not to scrape cars as i backed out of my grandmother's driveway...whenever i drive in my dreams there is a slight sense of terror...i am not allowed to drive...inside the house, my dad was conducting a strange form of batting practice...i guess i can't really make an attempt...the van seemed a lot like the one a band i had a few years ago tried to use to do a tour...the van had irreparably broken done the day before we were scheduled to leave for Winnipeg...in fact hours after we had shown it to a mechanic friends of ours...he had looked at the beast dubiously...saying this was what adventures were made of.....that the van broke down shortly thereafter certainly seems like a boon now...

starting reading Life of Pi earlier in the evening...am decidedly suspicious of novels that manage to garner public acclaim...public acclaim made 'Tantra for Dummies' a hit...perhaps the success initially has to do with the Canadian content...there aren't that many novels that have the North as a central location...the story begins in the strange (due to geographic displacement) of India...it seems to some degree that current sensibilities embody a dreamy desire to be elsewhere...this isn't a new phenomena, yet i think it is something that has become more vivid since 9/11... a sort of renaissance...

there is nothing more enjoyable than editing a manuscript...says i the complete moron...i don't know about this blogging thing...made myself a promise that i'd keep a journal to keep the writing sharp..but i can't seem to penetrate my pop-culture eggshell...nothing to say....its cold....read the latest Adbusters and am certain that everyone is still no-one...there are a few Chomsky documentaries playing at the Bloor Street Cinema soon...i'm all aflush with excitement...i sound sarcastic, but am serious...Chomsky is a fortress of the left...history is important..."between the lines" everyone says...which lines?

some of this isn't working...

phone calls from friends...people seem to be falling apart...the year hasn't yet healed from a severed umbilical cord...have Ritchie Havens stuck in my head....is a good thing......outside my window i can see a violently packed 404...got real cold overnight...the Nord in my blood is pulsing a little more heavily these days...want to kick some (metaphorical) ass....been thinking about a screenplay a buddy is writing...young writers in film have a penchant for the epic...his script, or at least the ideas therein, would require a number of movies...set in the year 5293 or so...jesus...he is helping to organize a poetry reading for mid-February...wants me to play and sing...fuck that...want to read...but i hate poetry readings...such a masturbatory act...should take the whole lot fishing...drink red wine and whiskey...puke and eat raw fish...then die...nothing new has happened yet to kick off the year....some calamity awaits behind a curtain...and i am holding my breath.....

At some level one has to let themself lapse into a delusional unconsciousness to get a better perspective of things...things? those ever-present idiosyncratic proclivities of western world-view...as soon as ideas became a form of currency, we've been bombed by hyper-imagism...notions of privacy start to flutter with technology...your sanctuary can be penetrated easily by anyone with a telephone...

The other night two drunk girls (friends) stumbled into my apartment...their reality or perception thereof stood in direct contrast to mine....one decided that we should have a seance to reach James Dean with me as the medium...while the other wanted to convince the world (in pontifical fashion) of the fact that we hide from our shit....her words...roughly....all i wanted to do was call my girlfriend and have a ridiculously lewd conversation....we found ourselves downtown in a freezing Toronto later on that evening at the Green Room where two pints were dumped on my lap...soaked in suds and ready to slit throats...the girl who had proposed the seance decided she wouldn't be leaving when i left, but rather would wait to see what the roguish bartender was doing after last-call....left her without compunction...as it should be...

saw Cold Mountain tonight...civil war and all that...the female characters possessed the most fortitude...made me think about the value shift amongst people...but am not going to rant at the obvious...have been searching my apartment for a week...trying to find something REAL to read...I'm tired of taking in material of a completely dark nature...need a relatively modern masterpiece to supplement my writings...for one who considers himself to be a writer...i'm remarkably un-prolific...maybe 3 solid pieces a year...maybe...when i talk one would think that i have volumes of work...but in reality there is little that hasn't been scoured and discarded by my fascistic self-criticism...i keep telling myself that this process will change...i am 25...there is little that will change from here on in...am hoping for a miraculous scientific breakthrough regarding bi-polar disorder...but fuck it...it is my defining struggle...there have been many (too many) greater than me that have slugged through...life is a goddamned fist-fight...(testosterone)...living in Toronto has softened me I suppose...in the more rural regions of the province you "put up or shut up" or however the saying goes...how trite...am a little full of cliche...but that is to be expected considering my recent brush with hollywood...got to get the band going before the idea fades into my id...have some new ideas...but little motivation...pull off the scabs and all you find is a pristine copy of your afflicted self...and i am in a world of silent verbs....

at some point there must be a literary renaissance...this is about necessity...the passion that had breathed before must be resuscitated...that passion has been beaten almost to death in the institutions around the world...it would seem as if the artistic side of life has been relegated to the furthermost regions of windowpane abstraction...everyone should write at least one poem...one that is about love, but isn't overtly so...nobody should feel at home anymore...many types of bombs are falling...not only of the military type...9/11 affords us with opportunities that we haven't blown on yet...it could be made to be the most wonderful occurrence ever...the catastrophe that launched a thousand ships.......

my hyper-Christian, lesbian-reformed aunt gave me more scientific proof of God literature....agnostically speaking this is fine...except for the problematic and mundane nature of the reading....a ridiculously large bibliography tends to show that one has glanced at other ridiculously large bibliographies....that evolution (macroevolution) and creation are dialectics is fine and well known...to discount one doesn't affirm the other....guess i have to loosen up....university essays have perversed my writing...sound like a fucking jar-head from the State department....Hemingway made the english language into a sytem of truth-articulation...yet our leaders and law-makers have decided to employ a nineteenth-century form of syntax...i hate myself....almost as much as i hate you

It would seem that the year has begun....the world is boring...kicking CNN addiction...waiting for someone to kick ass....and then get spanked.........