I’m hunting for the needed documentation – got to get my truck legal again – Dave lost the renewal notice – the title was in my back-pack and not in the glove compartment – I think I have proof of insurance in my wallet – I need to pay the property tax, get a safety inspection and visit the DMV (I've got another six days to get it done). At least I am underway – which is the hardest part, then expalianing why I didn’t make the deadlines (as if they even care but I always anticipate such a dialogue) and then the easy part – making out the checks. I Google Map the directions. I know how to get there. No excuses left.
Workhouse
Poorhouse
Guesthouse
Pesthouse
Madhouse
Jailhouse
Almshouse
They’re right every house is not a home
But what about the reverse - Is every home a house?
Municipal lodging house
Boarding house
Outhouse
Whorehouse
Slaughterhouse
Commitment, protection, administration
Home Sweet Home
Landlords
Overlords
My Lord
Yes m’lord
I’m up in my treehouse
A public house is not public housing
A publican's home is his own domain
Death smells lend protection. Winner of ripest warm-day-decay contest is not challenged by pack peers – billowing putrefaction blasts inspire respect and great kill pride. Meat-rot bouquet is prey smells best medal – Amy Grestler – Dearest Creature, 2009 r p34
The number of Border Patrol agents has doubled since 2003 to almost 20,000 today. The budget has grown from $1b in 2,000 to a requested $3.586b in 2011. The combined budgets of Customs and Border Protection and Immigration and Customs Enforcement is $17b. There are 650 miles of barriers along the Mexican/US border and everyone is screaming for more – the problem is that no one has any standard for defining what a secured border is (either that or immigration is now our bugbear for all that ails us)
Tim’s Jalapeno Potato Chips - First I lick the salt and flavoring from my finger after handling the first chip. It seems more salty than hot. Tim’s Jalapeno Potato Chip - But there is a diffident lingering hot after taste. I pop a whole chip into my mouth.
Crisp, crunchy chip texture. There is a loud crunching noise in my mouth. No heat yet. Now a slight sensation of heat. It’s starting to build up on the back right side of my tongue and a little bit in the upper back part of my throat - those places with the most physical contact with the chip. It’s not really that hot, but what heat there is is persistent and it is localized. I imagine what it shall be llike after a few more chips when my entire mouth and throat shall begin to tingle. The fire should be additive, the mouth will cry out for more as the body pumps endorphins into the system to counter this imaginary pain. It'll not be like a festering sore, but more like the day after a bad sunburn.
I go for the next one. I munch a second chip and let the chewed pulp linger on the left side of my mouth. Yes, the left side of my mouth is heating up niecly now.
The fact that the body is what it is capable of doing, and what any body is capable of doing is well beyond the tolerance of any given culture – Elizabeth Grosz
Walter’s neighbor who he had taken care of for twenty years died yesterday. He found her after she had not answered her phone. There probably wouldn’t be a funeral, he said, as there is no one to attend. She was born in Mississippi 88 years ago. A quarter Irish, a quarter black, a quarter Cherokee and a quarter who knows what. Walter just says that she died at home. She had never wanted to leave.
Even though what you write may not be literarily true before you wrote it, it did not even exist. Thought comes from actions not the reverse - thought does not predicate action. Without action we could not think - disembodied self let alone brain is a fantasy - a comic cosmic fantasy. We are constantly creating the world, otherwise we are dead - such is the essence of life - creating text, creating space, creating time, creating persona - and – destroying. Creation and destruction are complementary - one doesn’t happen without the other. And if I had not written it down who would even have know other than my self and I would long ago have forgotten it.
The failure of the commons is the common failure of the market resulting in walls and
gas-masks
Not only do we not know what it is that we are choosing we don’t even know why it is
that we should be choosing
But choose we must
Put this object in my market basket
It is the subject
A representation of my desires
"I have no great fondness for any of these shoes"
Quoted Mrs. Marcos
It is the relish of the fetish
Which is so devilish
True cynics are often the kindest people, for they see the hollowness of life, and from the realization of that hollowness is generated a kind of cosmic pity – Raymond Federman – The Twofold Vibration, 1982 p65
Waterboarding is an established tradition in medical practice having been once used as a remedy for the intemperate needing moral reform as did heretics and anyone else insane enough to want to protest such violent treatment under the guidance of expertise – torture is a vital remedy for curing what ails an imperfect world with all its moral backsliders that need to be dealt with efficiently.
Persona are not subject to the weather, they are not seasonal. They can be perennials however but that is not necessarily so. Humor is the trying on of a persona and standing in front of a mirror admiring the results. Regret and shame are not liking the image that you see. Sorrow is not seeing any reflection at all. Some people skip over cracks in the sidewalk, other attempt the Grand Canyon. Few of the later succeed. Most of the former are hindered in their progress. Neither strategy works for me.
Instead, I would rather that they shoplift. My advice, as a Christian priest, is to shoplift… I would ask them not to take any more than they need, for any longer than they need… The observation that shoplifting is the best option some people are left withy is a grim indictment of who we are – Rev Tim Jones “A Sermon For the Fourth Sunday of Advent (Dec 20,2009)
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