Learical Shreiks from the Tower

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Mind Bender

trying to embed this video, but don't know how. Anyway, here's the link

http://mcooki.es/184193

like masochism to counterbalance the sadism that I've wrought on this world. Like a good earth shattering scream of primal fear. Like being in a car wreck and having the world turned upside down. Am a huge fan of Family Guy, and have always felt that the Brian character was a voice of reason. WE all think we're nice, and smart, and one of the good guys, but really, what if we're not? What if everything we believe to be true is a lie? What if it's all wrong?

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Da Raiders and the world. .

I am tired
I am weary
I could sleep
for a thousand years
A thousand tears
that would awake me

Another Sunday of watching the local team lose. We had a chance to win; I turned on the boob tube to see that "WE" were up and got all excited. Fists pumped to the air; heck, even my dogs were catching the wave of excitement that they didn't know reasons for; jumping, barking, like their master was getting a chewy treat and they were stoked for him. Who wouldn't be. The Raiders were winning! Henceforth, the Raiders lost. Like the Democratic National Party, they fought long and hard to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. "You've got your work cut out for you; You're up in the polls, how will you lose this time?" Jon Stewart asks Howard Dean.

Instead of a 2-1 start, we have a 1-2 start. Be thankful for that one win, some detractors might say, but I feel there's something more insidious than that. A coaching carosel in play. Looking for news, first there's the fight:


http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid1612844765?bctid=1811559635

then there's the story before the fight:
http://blogs.mercurynews.com/kawakami/2008/09/17/constant-kiffin-the-raiders-vs-their-own-coach-round-15/

and then the fight again
http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid1612844765?bctid=1811559635

All the shit that's produced. Meanwhile politicians make the busy sound. Clamoring for votes while not doing a damn thing except capaigning. JaMarcus, please throw in a pass play every now and then. And I thought Phil Rivers was too reliant on LT. Home teams are supposed to win. Quarterbacks are to throw, pass, run. The good guys are supposed to win. The honest politician heroes are supposed to. . .oh hell nevermind.

We watch the scrum, because thats what we watch football for. But sometimes, that gets old. The home team won't mak the playoffs. The person elected isn't the person that shows up on inaguration day. We've been hoodwinked. Shiny Shiny, Shiny boots of leather.

God help us all, in another losing life

Friday, April 18, 2008

out of doors

I try to work outside. Job security is inside. Spend days inside walled roof room, nice and maintained. Step outside my own house, there's weeds encroaching on a ten thousand dollar lawn. Each weed taunts, blowing in the wind, threatening to spread even more seed.

Life is getting longer. Days roll by to an ever increasing age and race to decrepitness and possibly invalidity. A fear overwhelms. Am no longer the wild rock and roll star.

Any fan of "Frank's Wild Years" will understand this: So, try to go out, found the new sport of Geocaching. Interesting new places, a way to "get out", but suddenly came across another being. Other person ranting on supposed trespass to incur a reciprical. Terrified.

I run back indoors, light a cigarette, and watch the weeds grow. Think there's a new one.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

olympic torch relay San Francisco 2008

i was there. The city was a'buzz. Got there late for pre-party lunch, 1240 when the shindig starts at 1300, and massive crowds already a'formin'. Lunch partner states that noise has been going on since mid morning and craziness was already in the air. Not in their eyes, though, it was kind of mellow, in regards as someone hoping that as this torch relay, in our hood would be to the world, the Olympics, all the other cities that protested, tore down the flame or stood peacefully smiling holding the safest flag to fly, that this would be ours to theirs, this would be our Altamont to their Woodstock. Free on the streets my feet traveled, around the corner for a bit, passing by a Van Ness sign in an MuniTranny 50-50 bar. Should've stopped their, but had to get in depth look at the crowds and the reaction. Waves were slamming, many flags together, away from the area. Why? Boredom. Asked both sides of the flags, "Did it happen so fast?"; "Well, whatever was supposed to happen, happened, and now its over". Undaunted, plunged deeper into the morass. China flag camps here, what I assume to be Tibetan flags in camps over there. Way off in the corner were green flags and t-shirted people, which it turned out to be Darfur saviors. Then the Burma freedom people walked by. Everybody was freeing and saving many countries. Guess they all felt good about it. they all had different chants, some in languages unknown. there was little shoving, the main reason to be here. it was as the rush watching a fight start, but when nothing comes of it, as though it effected the performance between the sheets. These angry protesters laughed and walked away from each other, without blood exposed. This was the pattern that repeated. Just to kick things up, "Let's Go Oakland, Let's Go!". Everyone has a cause, Oakland's mine. A's; Raiders, Warriors. Because this was all pointless. Maybe pointlessness is the point of the Olympics. Sport for sport sake. Politic for its own sake, money for the sake of money. How about, since none of the Olympics is to be political, why can it also not be commercial, for just one day out of the average two weeks, how about all the money that's funneled through this event towards advertising, for one day take that money and ensure everyone on this planet has food available to eat (and possibly provide a greater later advertising marketing, and selling market)? Big companies would look good. IS a PR stunt of greater market impact than a TV ad on Astound Cable? Anyway, it was there, and people of all shades were miffed.

Changing the parade route - we heard this may happen. What's the point? What's the point of having a public event, but not want anyone to see it? Senseless, again, the returning theme.

Saturday, June 16, 2007

to be sung with :
http://youtube.com/watch?v=onWDtGUAUKU&mode=related&search=

Cars passed down the town thoroughfare, silently. The summer heat belted the asphalt. Crystal Chris makes his money spinning a business sign on the corner. The cars whip silently through the heat. The heat. The hot. The Inferno. Crowd of cars get together. Crowds get together. Cant see, if, they’re the good guys; can’t see, if they Rotaries, or Tweakers, Can’t see, if they’re, they’re anything to be bespectacled on this Friday night.

When suddenly, Crystal Chris, gets the feeling like he’s being surrounded by horses, horses, forces, coming in, in black and white, siren screaming, he saw forces, horses, pitchforks and knives, fancy cars and shopping carts, horses, horses, all the people, good and bad, rich and poor, he saw, masses, masses, coming in, in all directions,

Do you know how to eat? Do you know how to drink? Do you know what to drink? Well, it looks like this: .A silver can and you know how to smoke? Or do you chase the dragon? What’s wit the needle? Do you like to slam? Do you like to slam? And Mr. Dylan says, “Blam De Dam”

Gladiolus, my sword, flowers dying and passing in the subtle wind. The wind blew, wooden wind chimes, screaming, mad Marie, jumping up, Franciscan choir, singing “Horses”,, in the dead summer breeze, the singing forces forces, something unintelligible, but screaming it louder. . .louder. . . .

There’s a funky little place, it’s an open space, it sits on the corner, of Clayton and Treat. It’s a home, it’s a resting place. For a handful of homeless people, looking for hope, looking for hope, do you look for hope, well, I look for hope, and I found some hope. On this funky little space. With some rock and some rubble. Empty space, Vacated space. Polluted space, an empty gas station, waiting by an angry line of traffic, waiting for someone, to pick up this derelict dog.

Go Rimbaud
Go Rimbaud
Go Baudelaire
Go Bukowski
Go Morisson
Go Apollo
Go Apollo!

What became of the protagonist? The lot is eerily silent now

Thursday, June 08, 2006

sister mary patricia ransford

you people are a bunc of turds

sistreer mary loves

Thursday, June 01, 2006

jut found this site. youtube.com It's got all cool videos you can imagine. Heckle and Jeckel/ mighty mouse cartoons; old hank williams videos, anything you type in the search bar. I got a friend names Macca who puts up website links.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=7JZkWcPECw4&search=t%20rex
jeepster

my high school rock music influences

http://youtube.com/watch?v=pTICIOOiqd0&search=pseudo%20echo
living in a dream

it was about the glam; who says it's still not?

and just cuz i'm Apollo, and dirty and nasty, here's the best money shot you'll ever see

http://youtube.com/watch?v=yJOFwBrTQRo&search=zit