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.........