April 30, 2005

a day trip to San Juan Bautista, an original missiones small town at the edge of a teutonic plate. And a great loud noise, The Big Sky, the end of the world...maybe thats why they in this particular samlltown have live roosters walking around in the streets, like hloy cows in India. Roosters, at the gates of heaven.


Oh lordie I am but a victim, selfinflicted…Today, my hotmail account is inacessable because Microsoft wants me to enable cookies before I can log on again. Cookies which I take pride in that I – a PC no-tech – though had being able to disable. But they want me, they want my cyber behavior-pattern, so they can trace and send me stuff that doens`t mean…stuff, more shit companies sending me more shit. And I even pay for having the account. The hotmail plus account, but now they want me to bend over and take it up the ass.
And, the joke continues, Microsoft with the said-to-be philatropic, responsible, ethic, empathic business profile are considering to weigh their support to a Washington gay rights bill.
Gay right activists and people inside and outside the company have over the past week flooded emails and posting on web-logs outraged on the companys decision not to support the bill.
Central for their protest are also the fact that one Mr. Ralph Reed, the former head of the Christian Coalition and one of the most visible anti-gay activists in the States and – no surprise – a close ally of El Presidentes® administration.
Reed is advocating on the behalf of “Christian employees within the Microsoft family” which, he says, finds it deeply problematic to support the gay-right bill. The Bill himself – Bill Gates, is at a rare neutral, saying he has pulled back on the issue because he is reconsidering the bill, which would eventually prohibit discrimination against gays in employment, housing and other areas – seemingly not a problem to the Christian community.
Meanwhile Mr. Reed stays on the Microsoft payroll earning 20.000 dollars a month while rubbernecking with the affiliates of the Bush administration.

I guess I don’t have to mention that this is posting part49 is the ongoing...WHY THIS second rate poet DOESN`T LOVE BIG BUSINESS™, but there…I said it , didn´t I?


April 28, 2005

I don`t know if or why then I would have expected it but the driver was fat. Fat as in overweight, dissolved contours, no chin, short arms no legs, you know: fat – a fat busdriver. The shuttle. So the picture was framed, but let me instead say that the guy had a weight-issue, not to rule out that the fat guy – the driver – could be an okay person. But if he wasn`t so fat and didn`t wear those shorts and hadn`t had his socks pulled all the way to his knees, if his Hawaii-shirt had been a little cleaner and just a little less tacky – a little more original, the picture might have been hangable. If it hadn`t been for the music. The white westcoast collegefunk, which I knew but luckily had forgotten about, like I entering California noticed that I also no longer remembered the lyrics of the Eagles “Hotel California” – anyhow: this funk, characterized by an overkill over a squeaky hornsection – I mean have there ver been anything more expendable than saxophones, no less saxophones solos and chases – so if it hadn`t been for the music and if it hadn`t been for his hair – had it only been shorter or had he only been younger the picture might have made sense. If it hadn`t been that he was such a talker – smooth, relentless and indifferent – constant, I might have been able to actually conversate him, but noone talks one these terms, a 16 hours flight ripping the logic of your aaparatus apart – the lingvistics, tying my tongue, a general alck of interpersonal interest, I might have tried. If only the 14 years he told me he had done this job had tought him that, then communication might have been an option although non-communication is also to be considered communication. If only he would have mirrored that I might. If it hadn`t been at 3 at night on 70 miles pitchblack frrewayride from San Francisco to Santa Cruz and everything looked alike, if he hadn`t said: “Hey, I think it`s so groovy that people come here from like…other countries..” I might have given him the benefit of the doubt, but no: I could speak but I would not talk. First you are an asshole until proven differently, and if that doesn`t happen – hey, you`re an asshole. I trhink that`s was what I was saying, silently. And I think it`s a natural reaction.
But there, in the bus, I would not talk, and even less when he looked at me and called me a “showstopper” and I looked at him and said “I give up” and he replied “But man, you havn`t even tried” – there, I had to crawl to the back of the bus to catch some shoteye, and he cranks up the stereo in the middle of a saxophonesolo, and right there the picture was all done. He is the first blow in a stupid ass storm.

April 27, 2005

Some months ago I went with an Austrian oceanographer to visit The Long Marine lab here in Santa Cruz, the facility beautiful set on the edge off a cliff above the sea. I am not an ocean-guy – in fact I am scared shitless of the ocean and in particular the Pacific, but what really lured my down there was the dolphins he said they had, alive, but in pools. Neither am I a fish guy, I am not into fish, or sea food for that matters – sushi included. But dolphins, dolphins are more than just a fish, - I don’t know – maybe for people my age it`s the oldschool tv-series “Flipper” that still plays tricks on me, for one – or the fact that it has never really been proven whether or not touching a dolphin, being intimate with a dolphin will or can actually make you more intelligent, loosen up your disabilities, highten your sensitiveness…I mean, in the late 90s they flew people in from around the world to swim with dolphins in The Red Sea – apparently to fix some unfortunate biological flaws.
Anyways, for me – I got of the whole dolphine-scene per se, when telemarketing giant Sonofon adopted the dolphin as their logo – aligning the beautiful animal with tons of shitty commercials in which silly service minded chicks with belached teeth and hair and headset promised to do anything to keep you talking. I really hated that campaign, and it is in fact another damned good reason why this second rate poet doesn’t love big business™ - which makes this posting number 47 in the ongoing…
But back to basics: The dolphins at The Long Marine Lab. There they were, in two circular pools, lazy but still squeaking the characteristic sound.
“They seem a little – hmmm doped” I noted to the Austrian, the ocean-guy.
“Yea, they are tired, taking an afternoon nap – and they old…”
“How old would that be…?” I asked
“Im not sure, but I think they are like born I 1978 and 1980, and that’s old for a dolphin..”
“Ok, but hey they are still god damned cute..” I just wanted to jump in the pool and have a go at them.
“Yea, but guess what – you aint gonna believe this. They are not only old, they are also retired…” he said
“What? What do you mean…retired…retired from what…breeding?”
“No from the fucking Marines…the Navy…”
“You´re Kidding.”
“No, no – during the last Gulf war right, they used them too track mines man, some say they could him set a mine on an enemy ship…and individually they cant be tracked on a radar…they the perfect underwater-sniper…kind of”
“That so fucking mean…I cant believe it. Navy seals dolphins…come on…so what are you gonna do with them, what mean spirited experiment are they part of here?”
“Nothing, we just keep them, the Nany didn’t know what to do with them, they were getting sloppy at their job, but were pretty sure if it got aired that they offed dolphins after end of service, it would be a major blow to their image…”
“Well it already is.. I think! Jesus…I mean its smart, but mean…”
“Yea, but they won the war didn’t they?”
“Who did? The dolphins…?2
“Fuck you, no, the states, they kicked Hussein out of Kuwait..”
“Yea, and now they are doing it again, that’s…great, any dolphins this time..?”
“Well, that I cant tell you….”

We then left, me, I regained the sympathy for the fish...

April 26, 2005

an absolute flatliner. No dreams, no links, no pictures, just the echo...

April 25, 2005

I stand corrected. In a posting a few days back on the new Pope, I wrote that ”he was a passionate member of Hitler Jugend Luftwaffe…”. Apparently, he wasn`t. Lennard, at DAMIJWH, who I consider a very trusted authority when it comes to history, and especially questions about WWII, writes at his blog today, that this – The Pope being a passionate Hitler Jugend, simply isn`t true. No further explanation from me, just ten ave marias and a recommadation of reading Lenanrds blog if you want to know how the it really went down.

The Pope do – however I`ll say defending myself – today represent approaches to moral and ethic issues that is not far awy from those of nationalsocialism per se.

So, today, I`ll pause the aggressive pessimism, flash my ambivalent relation to war, as I yesterday took the boys to “The Dream Machine” event at the Half Moon Bay Airstrip. For once it wasn’t so much the collection of beautiful musclecars that pulled me in, but more the fact that there was an airshow, including WWII fighterplanes, among those:
The Mustang P 51, Wildcat (predecessor to the Hellcat), B-25 bomber and a B-17 bomber “The Flying Fortress”, a german Messerschmidt 109, and a YAK (Russian figterplane), and then some.

It was a beautiful day. Especially the P-51`s made a spectacular show. 4 of them flying in formation, 30 feet of the ground, then acting out fighting routines higher up and so….

As I said before. who can truly be a pacifist? Yesterday I just felt...13... and lucky for having been born on the right side of the tracks.


April 23, 2005

fucking hippies! Following the strike last week, they have now set up at tent-university at the mainentrance, alternative teaching my ass.....Didgeredoos, dreadlocks, moondance, drumajms, untuned guitars, tunes of yesteryear, every concievable remnant of the 60s, an iconographic noisemachine which as only result have brought back the pouring rain. If they can do anything, thats it. Jesus! Get a haircut, sometimes I just cant believe how longhaired California is.
"But like dude man" they say, "You are not it with the groove, like the vibe man - we are the voices from the edge...". So, go ahead and jump you pathetic treehugger.

I can think of only one thing, a quote from the film "Live and die in LA", said by Willem Dafoe: "Your taste is in your ass Max!"

April 22, 2005

WHY THIS second rate poet DOESN’T LOVE BIG BUSINESS™ part 46.

Because writing this on-going … has made me an addictive reader of the business-sections of New York Times and San Francisco Chronicle, and – better late than never – it has lead me to the conclusion, that if you want to get a clear picture of where El Mundo® is headed, that’s where to find out.
Moreover it can be highly entertaining, like on Monday where I stumbled upon these two pieces of cutting edge information.

1. 25% of every meal consumed in USA is consumed in a … car.
2. There are 38000 (!) nail-clinics in the Bay Area (San Francisco), but only half a dozen health-inspectors.

April 21, 2005

For a brief moment, after having neglected it and my house- mantra of “revolution starts at home” , I`ll return to the ongoing soap of WHY THIS secondrate poet doesn’t LOVE BIG BUSINESS™, this being part 45, and turn to the fuzz about the new Pope: Joseph Ratzinger aka Benedict XVl.
In an earlier posting in December 2004, I emphasized the conflation of state, big business and church, and in the same go I generally outlined the Church as being an equivalent to Big Business™, with the following three arguments:

Why is religion currently to be identified with economy = Big Business™?

There are 3 significant features.
1: With the free market religion has changed and is now anchored in three specific capitalist characteristics: competition between religion and churches, commodification and choice. This makes it a part of market economy.
2: Religious ethics makes people choose economics, that is, religion determines economic decisions.
3: The sacredness of religion is applied to the understanding of economy.

So that allows me to consider the new Pope as a CEO – Chief executive Officer – who, as a young man was a passionate Hitler Jugends Luftwaffe – reigning abusiness controlling the mindset over a vast amount of catholics worldwide, with a set of values on 6 important issues, that goes as follows:

Secularism: “We have moved from a Christian culture to aggressive an intolerant secularism. A society in which God is completely absent self-destructs.” (J. Ratzinger, November 2004)

Other religions: He has repeatedly condemned ”religious pluralism” and relativism, the idea that other religions can hold the way to salvation, and has been instrumental in blocking the advance of priests who think differently.
“This trhuth of faith does not lessen the sincere respect which the church has for the religions of the world, but at the same time it rules out, in a radical way, that mentality of indifferentism characterized by a religious relativism which leads to the belief that “one religion is as good as the another”: (J. Ratzinger in The Vatican Document “Dominus Jesus, November 2000)

The Catholic Sex Abuse Scandal: “One comes to the conclusion that it is intentional, manipulated, that there is a desire to discredit the church” (J. Ratzinger, December 2002)

Women: He is pro-prohibiting on women as priests and criticises feminism for ignoring biological differences. In a church statement august 2004 he called on governments to “mange conditions so that women do not need to neglect their families if they want to pursue a job”

Sexuality and Marriage: He is a leading voice enforcing the traditional doctrine on homosexuality, extramarital sex and artificial birthcontrol, writing a letter to American bishops in 1988, for example he critized their acceptance of condoms to stop the spread of AIDS, saying the American view supported “the classical principle of tolerance of the lesser evil”:
About homosexuality and same sex-marriage he rams on: “There is absolutely no grounds for considering homosexual unions to be in any way similar or even remotely analogous to Gods plan for marriage and family. Marriage is holy, while homosexual acts go against the natural moral law”.

Abortion and euthanasia:
“There is a last border we cannot cross without becoming destroyers of creation itself. (J. Ratzinger, “God and the world”, October 2004)

It leaves me with only one question: What year is this?

April 20, 2005

”The electrician should be blue” said the bricklayer in white to the carpenter all dressed in brown, “but blacks will always be black”.

two anniversaries today not to be forgotten:

1. The 99th anniversary of the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake,
2. The 10 year anniversary of the McVeigh Oklahoma bombing.

"The painting will be dry in 30 minutes" the painter told the woman waiting naked in her apartment lit up by expectation. "So will I" she replied, persistant, clean and horny. Pink dots drags a hasty trail in the snow from the harbour pool to fascination, her door is open her ass in new blonds like a fresh layer of paint. Her ass. Her ass. Like range and a valley of dunes, the promised land. Real as the dreams you do not have. Her pussy, wet, tasty, a fairytale. I win the queen but I loose my kíngdom.
Sugarman enters the arena, identity merges and all is fair in love and hate

April 18, 2005

"Pacifico" said the mexican crossing the US border "means the sea without memory, so forget what you just saw and did - let it go, cause sometimes the world is so big that it also dont give a shit about you...".
Hanging in the air, flatout and powerless, twinkle twinkle litlle star, you drown trying to become more than a result of random choices, float like grey from an aerosol can, a king and a queen without names and dreams dont mean a fuck.
"Wake up and chop another line, pigs wasting my time do some fucking thing asswipe", the car hits a coyote in surburbia, headlights, metal to flesh, more metal.
"I should have left you behind" said the mexican.

"Talk less and listen more and ask more questions" said the baker to a german misplaced and mislead by gurus on demand, now in Copenhagen DK his only contribution to world history was the bread in the back of the van with his name. Could it be more boring it struck me but escaped didnt seem to be an option being the gurus pet I was stuck only with envy as we waved the german off on the nighttrain to Munich. I saw an opening an ran till I couldnt run nomore, december cold and grey and full of sick ghosts the indifference became a rocketship exploding in black and white right and wrong, my moral was isolated, culture individual and unity an illusion and the pursuit for answers static, I dropped out of circulation and the rope ended.

April 16, 2005

what a night

the floor scattered, patterns of cheap cottonballs remains of pot and stated drug abuse. There is a fight in my kitchen, my morals a not provoced - you fight accordingly to a code of conduct, somebody wins, then we have power, then we have order, then there is culture. I will let them finish but there can be no talk of eating. There is a fight. There is a knife. There is victory.

Then there is the crowd and the party. Girls in halloween outfits though dominated by pink. They fall asleep in the couch after each dance, there is not enough drugs. Then suddenly she is there. Straight dress, casual. She sits on my lap, tanned and newly travelled. I mistake her for somebodys sister which she is not, her dead Mom then takes a strong presence.
I want to leave, I want to move into my room, but people are already there and her mind is like concrete. Then people leave and she wants it but as we rise from the couch I notice I have wet my pants and I run screaming for the door.


April 15, 2005

two things
still no answers. Is the question to hard, is the quiz a halfass idea, I rest my case, the answer a secret and keep the prize.

there were a strike on campus. Student and facility workers protesting against the fact that the w o r k e r s havent had a raise for three years and work for an average hourly wage at around 8 dollars an hour. Fine with me, I deeply respect the case, this country being in a dire need of a moral and ethic facelift.
But what I do not approve - I guess I am just to old for that kind of powertrip - was the following event. Doing my afternoon routine, picking up Julius from school, him now alongside with 3 or 4 other kids who eyeballed a cheap ride and claasy in-car music (teach where you can teach). Yesterday though the routine got totally messed up which is the worst thing that can happen to a neurotic jerk-off as I. Non the less, because of picket lines all over campus I had to circle my way to the school and my afternoon coffee and cigarette and 7 - 11. The store was packed beyond beyond with young students dropping by to shop for water, cokes, coffee, chips, chocolate and what not...They were all fired up about the strike, being in a picket line, blocking traffic, seing people losing tempers over their aim at The Greater Cause. Already in the shop I felt my rage arise. If they were so fired up about the in-just of the world what the fuck were they doing shopping in 7-11 where the clerks make eb´ven less than the facility workers at campus, and I remembered: they are being young and nothing but. I got my coffee, smoked the cigarette, upped my dopamine circulation and headed for school. The boys jumped the car, I cranked up the carstereo to 11 and the SPOKE track "Public display of rythms".
We then drove about 1 mile og the 4 miles strip home before we hit the quoe. Traffic was at a standstill. I had no doubt in my mind that they now also had blocked the westentrance, not wanting anyone to enter campus.
"This is gonna be a while" I told the kids and the got out of the car and started walking home. One kid stayed in the car.
Bout 45 minutes later we had moved closeto the gate when the picketline guardsment started approching us with flyers and commandos. One guy in perticular got my piss boiling as he wanted me to prove that I actually lived at campus. I was just mad, but also so mad that I couldnt speak prober english - not that I can, but now I really couldn`t.
"What kind of sick owertrip are you on man, go tell your buddies in the picketline at the mainentrance that if they want to be taken seriuously it doesnt look good that half of them is in a line i 7 - 11, buying all kinds of multinational crap..."
I dont think heunderstood me, this one guy, thin and gothlike, handed me a tap taht should get me in he said, and I was at ease. It was hot.
At the gate a second guy, dressed more less in combat gear walks up and shouts: "Nobody gets in - noboby gets in..." and I told him I just had a tap saying I could, as I fucking live there. He just answered: "Nobody gets in nobody gets in..". I then approched a cop, asking him: "Listen I live here, my wifes waiting with the other kid, she gotta leave the house in ten minutes, what do you wnat me to do?" And the cop goes: "Go on". And I did, I drove all the way up to the line when another cop jump from the crowd shouting "no no".

Well blabber blabber it is, really, I didnt drive in, I didnt tell them what I thought, I walked home the astmatic kid, just thinking, fuck them, fuck them for I have become so old as to think that they are wasting their time whipping up that hateful mood. People tend to forget the case which I respect, I just dont get the means. Iknow that university is corperate crap. I know that. Dont waste your time telling everybody what they allready know. Take your picketline to the chancellors office, her million dollar home. Fuck I am old, for thinking that this picketline, its merely a powertrip - at random, the case not specific, and in three years from now when th parents no longer pay theri tuitions they vote republican anywyas trying to save their own asses, as there, yesterday, fighting with their heads up their asses.

April 14, 2005

when I look back and see what was in it is gone - its good. It looked like a pizza left lying in the rain since september with noone to eat it.

these are tasty motherfuckers though

So the Pope dies and the world cries and mourns. And there are speeches, and masses and TV-shows and what not…
One mass in particular got some unfortunate media-attention this week, as the American Catholic Church shipped US cardinal Bernard Law off to Rome and the Vatican to conduct a mass at St. Peters Basilica.
Bernard Law, who the fuck is Bernard Law, you might ask? Hey for once fuck is a good answer, it is in fact a really good answer. Bernard Law was the archbishop who had to resign in disgrace in December 2002 for his participation and covering up for priests in the childabuse-scandal centered in Boston congregations.
Tasty shit no? The scandal no less a scandal knowing this molesting scumbag still holds a job, he can leave the country at will, he can approach kids and being paid doing so… Oh yea, do ten Ave Marias and we`ll world peace too right?

The best joke though (not that I laughed bout the abovementioned…Oh lordie no!) of the week in my book, was however again performed by all-american hausfrau™ Martha Stewart.
After having spend 5 month in prison over the winter for insider-trading – a period where her company shares ironically skyrocketed – she is now back to serve the rest of her sentence doing a five month housearrest in her sprawling Westchester County estate upstate New York.
But, oh how justice spoke: A judge ordered Martha to stay in housearrest, after she claimed that the sentence is damaging her business. The celebrity homemaker told judges that serving the rest of her sentence would hamper production of her two forthcoming television series. She applied for the courts to bluestamp her leaving the house for 80 hours a week – as opposed to the now allowed 40 hours – to take care of business.
Yea, well, I laughed Martha. Your middle name aint “humble”…

And then I went to a class with an african-american radical social worker: Geoffrey Canada, straight outta Harlem. I`ll get back to that, as I am still trying to regain my breath.

Oh Lordie. The state I am in. Oh Lordie. The shape of things. Oh Lordie. The Shape of the things of the state I am in in the world I am in . Oh Lordie.

apicture of a catholic childmolesting scumbag- bernhard law.

April 12, 2005

Picking up Julius from school, a 37 minute part of my daily routine, I pulled in and parked to wait behind a car, a white something-make, that I`ve noticed before for having an exuberant selection of stickers on the rearbumber and around.
I`ve been over it other postings: I have been puzzled by the intensity by which cars themselves are used to signal not only social status or ethnicity but also more profound issues through the posting of stickers. I would say it`s 7 out of every 10 car that carries a sticker, and all though of these 7 cars, the 4 of them carries a sticker of a yellow ribbon saying “support our troops”, it is still a sticker, and the signal even more so.

But this one car stood out. First I only noticed it for the amount of stickers, which was a lot. Then I started reading them and every one of them was about sex, or…I wouldn’t call it sex as much as a feeble attempt to be funny on the behalf of sex, but read for yourself, the stickers read:

You`re never too young to be a dirty old man.
If we are what we eat I`m fast, cheap and easy.
Have sex now – ask me how.
I`d rather be having sex.
Lost blowjobs.
Promote more sex – please.
If you show me your tits I will show you my smile.
Sex instructor – first lesson free.
Eat pussy or drown trying.
Money can`t buy love but it can buy a lot of sex.

April 11, 2005



In the meantime El Presidente© is back from Rome where he participated in the Funeral of Pope John Paul ll. Fly un-safe You ole geeser!!!
he returned to his ranch in Texas and before meeting with jewish superhero Ariel Sharon, he was seen taking his mountainbike for a spin plugged on to his new favorite gadget, an iPod given to him by his twin-daughters.
Heres a sampling from El Presidentes© playlist, some of these selected by his chief media campaign manager Mark McKinnon, who once wrote songs for Kris Kristoffersen`s publishing company:

John Fogerty: “Centerfield”
Van Morrison: “Brown Eyed Girl”
Jon Hiatt: “Circle Back”
Alan Jackson and George Jones (honky-tonk and CM)
Alejandro Escovedo “Castanetes”
Joni Mitchell: “You so square baby I don’t care”
The Gourds: “El Paso”
James McMurtry: “Valley Road”
The Thrills: “Say it aint so”
The Knack: “My Sharona”

Im glad he aint dj`ing my parties, but then again you could say he is very much doing so right? So hang the fucking DJ!

April 10, 2005

I watched the movie "Napoleon Dyamite"....a hillarious portrait of a geek lost in rural America, fighting with youth issues such as dating, jocks, money and a imploding familystructure. The movie much in the tradition or likeness of "American Splendor" and "Ghost World" is one of the most precise descripts of a larger part of America seemingly disconneted from the rest of the world. The colours, the dresscode´s and the performances by the three guys in the parts as Napoleon, Kip and Uncle Rico is nothing less than brilliant.

April 09, 2005

the confusion is total. ten minutes ago this psoting was posted trhee times on the site, now its gone and: mon dieu, here it goes again, the posting that was posted yesterday or .... has now been posted again.


Due to an intense program, trying to finish an education, having two kids, being a libra and a stay-at-- home dad I´m gonna have to downscale the hope of starting a revolution from home, and grow up fast and love to learn big business, which was how “WHY THIS…” really started, maybe how anything started: a search for love that became the curse of intelligence.
Therefor will the term “poet” in the headline “Notes of a secondrate poet, become more obligated, as I am trying to shake the goodiebag of attemps in literary productions, which will be posted on and off. On and off because I am sure that I can not control the sheer rage I experience towards the doings of Big Business©

However: We at flotteheimer continues with the quiz ASK THE BRAIN” part 8, today.

The question is:
From which movie is the following quote:

"...all he wanted was rock'n roll porn, und a motor-bike"

amazed and confused. After the wining yesterday about me being a little outblogged, the blog goes down and makes it impossible to post or edit posts. It still seems that I cant delete two of the three same postings that ended on my site yesterday. I also wanted to inorm yoy, that the prize is ASK THE BRAIN this time is an secondhand original, black JERRY SPRINGER SECURITY t-shirt size L.

Sorry bout the mess. Hope you didnt get discouraged, maybe this will help the one reader that might think that I now have obtained a stunning bronze-tan, bot no no: Thes light april showers are in my book, massive rainfalls. The wettest spring in California for a 150 years, so I remain pale, allthough never as white as I look.

The beautiful electric drum is wired for your pleasure.

April 06, 2005

My phone rings.

”So whats up, you sound a little grumpy?”
“No not really”
“So what am I missing out on overthere?”
“I don’t know what you are missing..I am tired. I went to this lame party last night…do you know the feeling to be at a party, a rave, a concert whatever, and you are just not on the beat. You are standing in the dark far side of the room with your arms crossed spitting in the same beer, just observing the gathering of the masses, doing it. Dancing, speaking, you know interacting, and you think to yourself, I`ll applause when its over not because it was good because its…over. I see right throught you jerks, fake and quasihumans, fuck them..I mean do you know the sense?”
“Sure, fuck yes!”
“So do you also know the direct opposite selfloathing feeling?”
“What are you on about?”
“Well, think, it`s you that’s being cornered, you..like in me that doesn`t work, I don’t interact, it`s me they see through, I am as easy to read as the content of a shoopingchart.”
“No, I cant say I do”
“hmm, weel I thought so. Bitch. So what are you up to, what are you doing?”
“I am at work…”
“Well it doesn’t sound like work…”
“What do you know about how works sound? But you are right, I am not really working, I am at Ryan MC to pick uo a new clutch for my … and hold ON....NEW Triumph Bournonville 72..”
“And you are paid doing that?”
“Sure, I am my man, so and you: are you getting any painting done?”
“Me, no no, not now, I am just getting out of bed”.
“Didn’t you just tell it me was a pathetic party?”
“Did I? Didn’t I tell you I had a godawfull time in Sweden?”
“Sweden? What the fuck are talking about? And please, turn down the volume on your stereo, I cant hear shit, my cellph0ne has a bad signal..”

”Its probably mine…”
”Christ, youre still using that peace of shit, buy a new, come on…”
”Why should I?”
“Get a grip, you want me to spell it out: yours isn’t working…”
“Well we are talking.”

”I dont know, am I listening, turn the motherfucking stereo down!”
“Fuck it, you gotta listen to this track, its so smoooth…”

I place my phone in front of the speaker and cranks the stereo up even higher, and keep it there until I think he`s had enough to think about something else, to have him impressed with something he doesn’t know, to mingle with his constant line of succeses. It matters to be ahead, to know. To get a head start.
I turn it down, and gets back on the phone, only to hear the charateristic sound of a toilet being flushed.

“Yea, I am here”
“What are you doing?”
“I was taking a piss.”
“A piss…did you even listen?”
“Yea yea, I can do all three things at a time: take a piss, talk and listen.”
“So, what did you think?”
“What I think?”
“Yes fuckball, about the music.”
“Well, I don’t know it…”
“Jesus, no, but what did you think?”
“Who was it?”
“Nina Simone, the tracks called “Aint nobodys fault but mine””.
“Well, that I don’t know. Nina Simone you say. That’s a woman right? Why does she sound like a man?”
“…but what did you think….for crying out loud?”
“Pathetic…weener! What century is she from?”
“You ignorant fucking bastard!”

“Yea well, I just wanted to call you. See you”
“Do you think so?”
“..yea yea…”


April 05, 2005

my attempt to shot up has already failed I feel like a poor but proud arab in Tom Taylor shirt without any patterns just a ferm belief way from everything and nothing shall or will move I will no longer walk only because I can I want to translate the book of Simplicity and sell it from drugstores in rural areas and I will forever and always greed the first person I met in the morning with a smile

A kiss in the dark and a gun and my bike over the fields og disiilusion I can not call you anymore

a picture of my room with a view to the san andreas fault line. I live in the bottom left corner where the red line cross the top of the bay.

actionpacked shakeappeal!!!

April 04, 2005

"There is a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious that you cant even tacitly take part...you have got to put your bodies upon the gears, the levers and all the apparatus and you`ve got to indicate to the people who run it and own it that unless you are free the machine will be prevented from working at all" (M. Savia 1443-1996)

outtake from murale near Peoples Park, Berkeley, SF, once a fierce battleground that among many others during the time of the civilrights movement in the sixties in the US, led the powers that be to show the true meaning of will, and gunned down numerous people. It could be one the reasons that why more and more people I talk to abiot whether we should actually stay or leave the US reply: "What do you mean...stay? Do you like it here?"

April 03, 2005

two things

1) I humbly bend over and point to Lennards posting at DAMIJWH today, for being a thoughtful approach to a hot issue in a xenofobic world. I woke up with hangovers, read it, saw the picture, and just felt...relieved.
2) Being at the issue of buttkissing I`ll do something that I two days ago decided I wouldn`t because it`s bad blog-policy. I was asked to post a link, this link: www.linkdoni.net . A very broadminded and info-rich website but as the personal accounts are in arab, I have no real way of saying if its a terrorist website or just.....another website.

And I dont give a shit the Pope died. I recent the mediahype almost as much as catholitism. Really what is happening here with the mediahype is just a sorry and pathetic excuse to celebrate themselves, a global ave maria and then race on to ensure rigid mideveal worldsystem.
As I said yesterday: Away religion. Oops, that was three things but so it goes .

April 01, 2005

my wife also said: "Hey I got my period. Now I can get pregnant again", and I thought these are the times you wish you were born with a dick having treads, twist it off and on accordingly to supply and demand, in the low times, to have it sitting in a glass of water on your nightdesk, like a set of false teeth: Honey, I am not ready for a third child.

WHY THIS second rate poet DOESN’T LOVE BIG BUSINESS part 43>


one thing:
consider the irony:

If Its it wasn’t because I always found april fool pranks incredible lame, I could be inclined to think this one was one of the better, but JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, I have take your name in vain
International gay-leaders are planning a 10 day Worldpride festival and parade in Jerusalem, Israel in august this year, to make a statement about tolerance and diversity symbolic set in the Holy City, home of three major religious traditions: christianity, judaism, islam.
The festival have in a rare spectacular way brought thesethree religions to a rare and almost bizarre show of unity in an attempt trying to stop the festival. They believe the event would desecrate the city and convey:

“a erroneous impression that homosexuality is acceptable. This is holy city, not Homo City and they are creating a deep and terrible sorrow that is unbearable…We cant allow anybody to come and make the HolyCity dirty. This is very ugly and very nasty to have these people come to Jerusalem. It hurts all of the religions. We are all against it, it’s the spiritual rape of the Holy City”

Ehhhh duh? To desecrate Israel and Jerusalem and a terrible sorrow? What are they on about in a city that have been a battle ground for some 50 odd years, desecreting humanity, allowing attrocities in the name of whatever fucking religious icon they could stampede of the ground. Unbearable? Get a fucking grip guys.

The strange gathering of beliefs is no wonder initiated by an american evangelical pastor Leo Giavenneti, a veteran of the american culture war on homosexuality, and most like of italian catholic background: a choirboy who most likely have been sodomized by pastors as a choirboy, as has shown to be the case in more than 2500 catholic congretaions around the country.

Love thy neighbour, as you love thy self? Yadda, yadda, badabing badabing: away religion away the pain away the mystery.