Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Neon Lit Bright






It was cold this morning and I’m feeling poorly. I think I’m getting over it, whatever it is.  It's just cold enough to freeze. A very thin layer of ice coveres the wash buckets.  I have a headache. I have a queasy stomach. I go into town for coffee. The dog has to stay in the truck because I’m not sitting out side in this weather feeling the way I do. First, I take a sip of hot coffee. It’s almost too hot (the medium cup was too cold but the little one was just right). Let the big cup sit for a few minutes while I peruse my email. That’s better. Good but not perfect. Not the coffee (it’s perfect) – the world and I. I hate getting old. It’s everything and more that the old codgers have always been complaining of.

If Hitler invaded Hell, I would at least make a favorable reference to the Devil in the House of Commons – Winston Churchill

About 160,000 aircraft were produced during World War I. The average service life of an aircraft was about six months

If Hell is lighted it must be by Neon – Eric Wilson Barker

Ever Kill a Man, Marlow – Raymond Chandler

The average man is tired and scared,
And a tired, scared man can’t afford ideals
‘Ever kill a man, Marlow’?
 'Yes'
'Nasty feeling isn't it?'
'Some people like it.'

There is something compulsive about the telephone.
The gadget-ridden man of our age
Loves it, loathes it, and is afraid of it.
But he treats it with respect,
Even when he is drunk.
The telephone is a fetish

I lit a cigarette.
It seemed like a couple of weeks
Since I had tasted tobacco.
I drank in the smoke.
“May I have just one puff?’
She came close to me
And I handed her the cigarette.
She drew on it and coughed

A fly-cluster of cars
Hovered in front of
The movie theater.
I went to the drugstore and ate
A chicken salad sandwich and
Drank some coffee.
The coffee was over trained
And the sandwich was as full
Of rich flavor as a
Piece torn off an old shirt

He had a grip like a pipe wrench.
He smiled at me benignantly now.
He was Mr. Big, the winner, everything under control
‘A half smart guy.’
She said with a tired sniff.
‘That’s all I ever draw.
Never once a guy that’s smart
All the way around the course.
Never once”

“Perhaps you don’t ever make passes at women in bars?”
“Not often. The light is too dim.”
I kissed her some more.
It was light, pleasant work
Get it through your lovely head.
I work at it lady.
I don’t play at it

Cop business is wonderful uplifting idealistic work
The only thing wrong with cop business is
The cops that are in it
After that nothing happened for three days.
Nobody slugged me,
Or shot at me
Or called me on the phone
And warned me to keep my nose clean

“He had a police record.”
She shrugged. She said negligently,
‘He didn’t know the right people.
That’s all a police record means
In this rotten crime-ridden country.”
For two people in a hundred it’s wonderful.
The rest just work at it.
After twenty years all the guy has left is a workbench in the garage.
American girls are terrific.
American wives take in too damn much territory

It was time for lunch but I wasn’t in the mood.
I got the office bottle out of the deep drawer and poured a slug
Nobody came into the office.
Nobody called me on the phone.
It kept on raining

I never saw any of them again –
Except the cops.
No way has yet been invented
To say goodbye to them
They had made a fool of me
But they had paid well for the privilege

You don’t shake hand with big city cops.
That close is too close
Cops never say goodbye.
They’re always hoping
To see you in the line-up

I bought her face slowly up to my face.
Her eyelids were flickering, like moth wings.
I kissed her tightly and quickly.
Then a long slow clinging kiss.
Her lips opened under mine.
Her body began to shake in my arms.
“Killer,” she said softly,
Her breath going into her mouth
A smell of kelp came off the water
And lay on the fog.
The tires sang on the moist concrete of the boulevard.
The world was a wet emptiness

Buy yourself a drink
While I shave
We had a drink and he left
By the back door,
Which he had jimmied to get in

Down these mean streets
A man must go
Who is not himself mean
Been spending too much money
In a joint that exists
For that purpose and for no other

In 1870 the top 1% of Americans owned 37% of the wealth and the top 5% owned 70%. The bottom 60% owned almost no wealth at all. This has not changed much in the last century, except that the richest 5% had increased their share. America contrary to myth has always been a non-equalitarian country. The equalitarian dream has always been just that, a dream. In America you’re free to dream.

Think does not mean what you think – Gilles Deleuze

In 1918 the amount of money it took for an average American family to live a healthy lifestyle was $1,600 a year. The average worker (including any additional income form wife and children) was $1,157 a year

In 1941 half of the new job openings nationally were restricted to whites. In Indiana, Ohio and Illinois 80% of the new openings were so restricted.

They were burning beef in their backyards, brown burly men, with beer cans. The beef black on the outside, red on the inside – Donald Barthelme – Sixty Stories, 1981 p102

During his rule, Napoleon attended the opera twenty-six times, more than any other 19th century head of state. He was indifferent towards German music and towards a fair amount of French music, but he was passionate about the Italians

I think no one will be disappointed who visits the country (United States), expecting to find no more … than a vast continent… and a busy, hustling, industrious population hacking and hewing their way-through – Frances Trollope – The Domestic Manners of Americans, 1832

Adulthood begins
            With money making
Just enough know-how
            Sufficient for the effort
Money making
Never enough
            Never enough
                        Never
Money
            Marking time
No time to waste
           
Time is money
Money is time
            Its time
            Money
                        Money

Money
And it all ends
            With dementia
Which is itself just
            Another moneymaker’s
Opportunity

The last pirate scum of the western Mediterranean were languishing in Spanish or Moroccan jails, [or] serving hamburgers at McDonalds – Arturo Perez-Reverte – The Nautical Chart, 2001 p205

Black males between 5 and 65 in New York City or Chicago have higher mortality rates than their counterparts in Bangladesh

24% of young Americans (age 25 to 34) live with their parents (or grandparents). This is up from 18% in 2007 and 11% in 1990. For the first time in modern history a higher percentage of young people live in mutigenerational arrangements than do Americans over the age of 85.

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