Saturday, January 26, 2008

After a restless night...

Is it detrimental to my mental health reading this apocalyptic extreme left wing propaganda?

chycho.com has updated with a long synopsis of the way our world has been going down the path towards heated global conflict; the acceleration of key events will trigger more traditional military movement. The reason is, and will continue to be, based on protection of global interests, though one can easily say, global domination and not be slapped and called a spazmo. The US obviously in hastily rushing into conflict with Iran, which can only serve to forestall any promises our current nominees reiterate for countless iterations. Things seem to be painstakingly falling into place, similarly to the previous century's events that lead towards global conflict. The main difference I can see is that there are skewed alliances, and that conflict is based primarily on economic upheaval (at least more so than than in the 1940s, but discussing key events in the strengthening of the illuminati i associate with masturbating into a sharks mouth....you'll end up a eunuch) There is a push towards a more controlling fist on global markets.

While I refuse to believe in everything that is read (I mean, you have to take most analysis these days with a grain of salt) sifting through various liberal propaganda does outline a starkly hellish future based on key events that are almost always left out of the public eye. Immediately and unequivocally, the mass movement of people into a warzone begs for the entire world to stop and consider the ramifications. For me, there are no sugar-coated premonitions. How long before the entire Muslim world is at war with us?

Things really do seem to be accelerating.



How has a year and a half of being in graduate school effected my former idealistic future?

At least in my present institution, I've come to feel that tenured professors don't give a fuck and will usually protect themselves over standing up for a student in need. I feel that my case may be different, but it's been a turn off. I've been told it's the same way in the humanities, though subtler in the "don't-give-a-fuck" mannerisms of aging professors. It seems to coincidental that the cold shoulders received through out this year and a half occurs in the poverty stricken city of poor valleys and rich hills. *Cue socio-economic debate. My mother tells me I should read more Carl Sagan.

Idealisms vanish.

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Friday, January 25, 2008

A Nietzsche Family Circus (ii)

just keep saying, "things will be finished. i can see light....at the end....of the tunnel." write? right.



It is my ambition to say in ten sentences what others say in a whole book.

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Monday, January 14, 2008

Hiking to the "best" rapid transit system (where?)


Click the picture!


It sometimes takes you over an hour to wait for a train on the G line during late night hours of operation. IT sometimes takes you 20 minutes during rush hour operations. And they want fare hikes? and we will GET unfair fare hikes.

tearing away sewn dissent

The late-night debauchery boiled down to deafening vibrations from PEAVY speakers and enticing skeeball machines that were seemingly stolen from a garbage heap. Heavy, loud cries to Operation Ivy, The Misfits, with Def Leppard videos playing on screens. "This so feels like Boston." raising pint of ale, drinks it, remembers the cold night of a woman falling and crashing, biking and falling.

"There was a plane crash in New York recently....sometime last September....have you heard of it?

The fear of things unfamiliar, pests not fathomed nor imagined. A dead cockroach brings the cute to their knees in perturbation. Calming education.....failed. Hit the pub, to the Boston bar, and finally a lounge from 2001 that plays Bauhaus in back of Devo. "i thought this was a downbeat gay bar at first."

Dreaded lingering, potluck finale of January stay. Greed of strangers, alms from friends; the livelihood of alcoholics changes with the weather. Hastening back home, the idea of danger seemed to soak up my will. As i reached the end of the park, i realize that the danger had been buried under the newly renovated facade of the school, the place of substitute legacy. Drek. Sauntering intoxication from the rowdy nest of turkeys congregate outside by the new red and greens shining on the pale white faces of the transients and locals. They mingle inside and out freely. just about closing time.

About to round the corner for the warmth of the linens:
Eye a white van with club music blaring form within

"Oh dude, that's the like, the party bus...or, the bang bus. Dude, check it out. whoa...look at that!"

Bang the head with a mallet or a sharpened piece of schist. Arrowhead or not, the shell should at least be packed with small boomerang razors. Tearing away sewn dissent.

Sunday, January 06, 2008

Re: 6 Jan.

Re: Vila notes

I've often sat in my local park, looking at the manhattan skyline from a bench, and wondered why i was picked to live in a city such as this. Not only why, but sitting and merely realizing that fact of residency in a moment of self-actualization. And as i grew older and saw the incoming "foreigners" I'd wonder to myself how could they ever feel a sense of belonging to the century-old red brick and pot-holes, or the abandoned factories from former generations. When I look up to see the modern design of a new development that reflects the light of the sun setting over the river, burning the whole of New Jersey, I feel that no one is listening. The only response to be found is a giant, ridgid middle finger rising above the legacy of the world's diaspora.

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Wednesday, January 02, 2008

The employment of people upon entering 2008

The strangers met on New Year's eve:

Tall, husky man with a red beard - second biggest advertizing firm in Manhattan
Pale, husky man, very blond hair (practically albino) - accountant for a jewelry company in Midtown.
Skinny dude, below 5'10" blocks stairs to terrace, danced drunkenly, swaying to and fro - works for an mp3 company.
Skinny girl, attractive, very aloof, and with a camera hanging from her wrist - bartender.

Many friends of friends, students, happy to be out and drinking. we saw M.I.A. dancing in the back room of Monkey Town. She's a professional partier/hipster. Seeing kids "nonchalantly" go up to snap a picture with her was very endearing. To end the night sharing shish-kebabs seemed to be a fitting end.