Tuesday, August 31, 2004

Just another day

Between Venezuela and Nothingland

Mickey Z. Cool Observer added to links

Ted Rall's editorial cartoons also added to links

Read more!

Sunday, August 29, 2004

Stoned at the Apocalypto Diner

bones stripped of flesh
air burns
water dies
merchant seamen singing lies

bones stripped
water burns
air dies
bird's solos ask me why?

apocalypse boner
strips of water cry
the air sings flesh
birdy bone-frame landing twice

birdy birdy
eating turdies
speaking squirrely
burning freely
in full sight.

eyes that blind me
see what's inside me
a flecked decision
turn out the lights.

crossing sexter
moulding mudpie
eating night time
sit beside me
don't deride me
fuck your virtue
fuck your mind

free your boners
smell the burned air
no longer here or there.

apocalypting singers
flailing back bringers
poised on tiptoe
merging lips to rimhole

pucker up apocalypto
burns stripped of death
water singing lies
air-bone falling falling
birdy bummer numnum
slip a burning rimshot
bone apocalypto
burning water's crypto
air that plans calypso
burns that land on water
eating bones with butter
don't you sit beside her
her dust's a covered wagon
apocalypt my meaning
apocalypt my reading
crush bones marry stones
singing solos perched on pillows.

Read more!

breakfast at cafe deux soleils: Not a Randy Newman Song

It was two eggs over fried potatoes and sauteed veggies with toast and english breakfast tea and a newspaper.
sky is overcast.
returned shaolin soccer dvd.
sky is overcast.
sky is overcast.
patio is closed.
patio is open.
My pajamas are under my street clothes.
patio is definitely closed.
sky is overcast.
turn on Prokofiev piano sonata in F minor.
why don't more people sign the guestbook?
add nothing, go home.
where is home?

Read more!

Saturday, August 28, 2004

Scriabin Piano Sonatas

Listening to nothing but Scriabin Piano Sonatas this week, he wrote ten of them.

Was Scriabin a synasthete?

Read more!

Wasn't certain about Rejoice in a Fountain of Blood

It's true, the first time I read it, I thought that it made no sense. So, I put it away for a few days and now that I like it you get to read it.

I've also been blogsurfing, new finds are to your right -------------------------------->.

Read more!

Rejoice in a Fountain of Blood

ferry falling across the water
waiting dockside queued in transit
horror stalks the waiting human
mist's compelling, water's calling.

stick your axeblade through me
slit my throat with your razorblade
swords in me up to the hilt
hacked-off limbs
chewed on bones
blood in my eyes
blood on stone

a waterfall of blood
falling on the skulls below
mist is sticky
your fist's in Mickey
grind my bones to make your bread
grind my bones till all's been said.

rip off my fingers make me eat them
make me choke on them
slice my arteries
fill your kegs with my life
rejoice in a fountain of blood.

laugh now rest easy
pick the gristle from your teeth
I'm done, you're fed.
tasty human morsel
tasty human blood
tasty human dread
tasty human
tasty dead.

Read more!

Wednesday, August 25, 2004

Whatcha don't know....

John Pilger today

Chomsky's Blog

Deepening the Bolivarian Revolution

Dissent is Dangerous in the Land of the Free

la, la la, la la....

Read more!

Tuesday, August 24, 2004

Traveling from Texada, Sunset

sunset in a vortex,
traveling backwards over water,
wondering if misanthropes love sunsets
more than the cuddled masses they must endure.

Read more!

which doesn't belong here? and why? where's the humour?

The Dillinger Escape Plan - Miss Machine
Scriabin - Sonata No. 9 (Black Mass)
Sonic Youth - Sonic Nurse
Melissa Auf der Maur - Auf der Maur
Sylvian/Fripp - Damage
Oysterhead - The Grand Pecking Order
Pharoah Sanders - Save Our Children
Vernon Reid&Masque - Known Unknown
King Crimson - happy with what you have to be happy with

Read more!

Monday, August 23, 2004


Remember Afghanistan? How long does Iraqi reconstruction take?

Is George W. Bush a war-criminal?

Read more!

Sunday, August 22, 2004

A Powell River Moment

missed the starlings,
diving over brownian motion seeds,
strewn by hand.

cats gather,
will the birds dither?
speed speaks, claws streak,
blood flows into air and carnivorous cavity.

satisfied with the early-bird-special,
old cats talk about
children saddened
by media images of missing children
once ignored by all media.

this attention will mean I am dead.

this death will mean I'll be seen.

this viewing will be mundane.

this banality saddens the masses who remember the dead.

Read more!

Tuesday, August 17, 2004

I thawd I thaw a sextet scream

You'll find the text in the archive, July 24.

Read more!

Monday, August 16, 2004

quiet sunny day to ponder Venezuela and more

Yesterday was the recall referendum in Venezuela. According to reports I've read or watched this morning, Hugo Chavez won with 58% of the vote. Hooray for Hugo Chavez.

However, the anti-chavez factions are already declaring fraud; you can read Justin Podur's piece here.

Remember Haiti? The removal of Bertrand Aristide? You know, their democratically-elected President; elected to a six-year-term in 2000? Read this article for some background.

Read more!

Friday, August 13, 2004

15 clowns

virtue assassin you are not allowed here
virtue assassin you are not allowed
virtue assassin you are:


posture assignment you are taught to hold
posture assignment you are taught
posture assignment you are:


virtuous alignment
astrological confinement
meteors all collide at
cemeteries where I once ate fries at
redlights I stooped to caress that
virtue you taught me to sneer at
babies crying into cold breasts that
once suckered bloodied johns' hats
thrown onto a circle jerk mat
fifteen clowns in a little car had arrived at:

mooning prison guards
pretending to throw long yards
misery in an eye drop
long time ago since I
held out my hand and said
all stop!

Read more!

Tuesday, August 10, 2004

powered by Audioblog.com

Read more!

why should I give a rat's ass about the olympics?

Why should I give a rat's ass about the olympics?

b) because I think that small groups of wealthy people should derive the most benefit from these olympic games so that governments and the people ruled over by those governments get to pay for those benefits. (too long-winded?)
c) so I can contribute at the water-cooler on Monday.
d) so people don't look at me oddly when I say, "I've never watched an olympic event in my whole life".
e) so people don't look at me oddly when I say, "I moved from Montreal to Toronto in 1976 so I could avoid those games, but I couldn't avoid the tax aftermath and the gambling craze (lottteries) that ensued to pay for those cost overruns. And where did those overrunning costs go to?" Of course there was another reason for moving to Toronto but this is a better story.
f) I shouldn't.
g) So I can avoid the real issues which are impenetrable and time consuming and would require much more time and effort than the time it takes to watch someone throw a ball.
h) cuz I like to watch.
i) some of the above
j) pancake headphone lozenge arrythmia...arrythmia...arrythmia!

Read more!

Monday, August 09, 2004

walking across the granville street bridge

vertiginous drop
don't look down
look down
cable wrapped around feet
lean forward
arms reach out
swan dive
adrenaline overload
light of no time
time is glass
eyes race towards water
flying up
falling down
flying up
falling down
swing around
grab hook
kerflop into boat.

do it again!

go home.

Read more!

Sunday, August 08, 2004

Lightbulb Joke Warehouse

Q: How many Michael Moores does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Only one- unless he has a heart attack cause he’s so fat, and ends up loosening his bowels and dying on the floor! Zing!

goto http://tedbarlowfaq.blogspot.com/ for hundreds more, all politically inspired.

Read more!


I wrote this for a band called 'Congested Karl Malden' I don't think we ever recorded it. Correct me if I'm mistaken.

Read more!

Saturday, August 07, 2004


I went to http://www.crookedtimber.org/ this morning and found a link to an extract from How to be Idle.

Perhaps later today I won't work so hard at coming up with new content for my blog. Perhaps I'll venture out into the overcast and find inspiration in a teacup. Watch the sidewalk traffic, see if there are any characters roaming the overcast searching for an anthem or a team. Maybe I'll go for a walk down to the beach, naw, too much like work.

Read more!

Friday, August 06, 2004


Hey baby, we'll make you a star.
KaBoom! You'll be everywhere.
Not right away; it takes time.

If time is infinite
and matter lasts forever,
then where does all the energy go....

Parched musicians leaping off of cliffs
soiled underpants make a break for the subway,
tousled hair races up ivy trellises.

Water's everywhere, let's have a bath
mathematicians count on limbo-dancing aftermath
of incalculable energies, prime fantasies,
inexhaustible treasure troves of irises and sunflowers
to the ends of the earth, from the loin of a gun
pissed on by tantric monkeys counting the names of God,
next door to the room of monkeys with typewriters
unable to write, unable to make sentences
out of the chaos of letters and typing machines,
smashing the state when the cartoons stop throwing themselves
over cliffs with anvils, out of planes with buttercups,
into clouds with smiles of lust for aged cheeses
and ponds of mulled wines, surrounded by banks of alabaster thighs
perched upon the shoulders of crazed porcupines
ejecting quills into the eyes of skunks evicting their sense,
to die on the streets:

The streets are the human concentration camp bedrooms,
for the unwashed, the uncoiffed, the desperately exploited;
make me a star, KaBoom! rock-a-bye baby a million miles to go,
oh! a million more miles to go. oh! go go go.

Dancing in gorilla skulls rhinoplasty aftertaste
mastectomy survivors in bombed out crab shells
pelted the streets sideways, moistening traps with
pills swallowed hard through dense pathways,
plaqued masses of dendrites, missing assemblies of blind acolytes
terse versions of Joyce's Ulysses sung late at night.
shantytowns erupt with mucous and dodecahedral stalagmites,
stick it! up your ass, baby, I'm going to make you a star.

Caw; Caw; Boom; Boom!
she was found by crows with guns swaying from their hipbones
in the swamp outside of, where, town used to be.
craters send out salami sandwiches to write history books
about monkeys unable to speak english, spanish or hoodoo
to gurus on smack!

Industrial templates illuminate tablets of glass
and plastic, shaken clean by baboon maids
in PVC uniforms, cleaning out a pig's trough, filled up
with absinthe grunting tins of monkey meat,
beating doors down for human meat,
frying slabs of Hilton's offspring for a novel taste treat.

ejaculate moist, you'll feel younger for years.

The latest in a long line of sophisticated tricks
to deter the mass from finding the great hoard.
No tickets needed, only the location and the time
to get there and stay.

Stay-laced, your time's paced, your adolescent joie de vivre
has taken out ads to be replaced, with parchment rinsed
in barrels filled with amazement and monkeys full of entertainment.
Give me your weak, your blind, your lame excuses, your insane
and I'll fill the streets with them.
Rejoice! The solution is at hand; I have a gun!

Read more!

Thursday, August 05, 2004


I left my home for entropy
She has had her way with me
She will remain my only friend
when entropy returns for me.

There have been misunderstandings
I have not always been true
I have lived to avoid her eyes
will entropy return for me?

And I lived in her shadow
took advantage of who she is
no advantage where there is no light
just a dream where she has left me
will entropy return for me?

There have been misunderstandings
her touch has often left me numb
I have lived to deny her advances
will entropy return for me?

I suffer as she circles round me
I spin but cannot fall down
her touch may take my breath away
when entropy returns for me.

Entropy is not forgiving
Entropy will vanquish night
Entropy will never leave me
In her shadow falls my light.

Read more!

Tuesday, August 03, 2004

Imagine Noam Chomsky and Naomi Klein as co-anchors of the evening news...Imagine

First, Naomi Klein could deliver this editorial and then Noam Chomsky could participate in an interview. We could also get reports about Cuba, Haiti and Venezuela.

And forget sports and the business report. Go straight to an arts report.

And no commercials.

Read more!

Sunday, August 01, 2004

Baalzebub Jones

Baalzebub Jones sat on a throne
and nursed a hurting grin
spent years on his thesis
about spine molds and greases
then let the dogs curtsey and grin
dogs like to curtsey and grin

Baalzebub Jones ate the bones of young elvis
and sold his houses for vomit
spent the remains on a pizza
made with virtue and nietzche
then knelt to lick spit off of chrome
he liked to lick spit off of chrome

and he said let's dance
herd your spit to the ranch
save your arms in a chest
spend millions on rest

his mother called to get his name
his brother sold his face on a game
his sister bought the library and burned all the books with shame
burned all the books with shame

Baalzebub Jones made of weasels and stones
gestured all to come on in
I'll verify you can park
overlooking moons in the dark
where dogs will gnaw on your bones
dogs like to gnaw on your bones

Baalzebub Jones kept his lungs near the phone
and ached to shrug off ruin
savoured tabouli and fries
matched his boots with his eyes
accessorized wit with high finance
high infidelitous finance

Baalzebub Jones sat on a throne
and nursed a hurting grin
spent years on his thesis
about spine molds and greases
then let the dogs curtsey and grin
dogs like to curtsey and grin
dogs like to curtsey and grin
dogs like to curtsey and grin

dogs like to gnaw on your bones

come on everybody
go home

Read more!

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?