Thursday, January 23, 2014

Everything I do is wrong. I'm sorry.

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Object lesson in near-universal complicity:
tOad.
They tried to teach us in Sunday school that "We are God's hands;" "We do His work with our hands;" and so on. I guess in the equal-and-opposite anti-universe schools somewhere, other kids were being taught that we are in fact God's feet.

Dilbert: Disaster Plan.Malvados.Aislin.
The sea has risen 6 metres in the last 5 hours.
There's no need for you to study anymore David.
And you can smoke all the marijuana you want ...
Facetious nonsense from Aislin.
 
Somewhere, someone still thinks the social media revolution's gonn'a save us:
Dilbert.
Rudy Park.
Rudy Park.
Bliss.
Bollocks!
 
Andrzej Krauze.Genildo.
Free Election Advertising
Smile! You're the one who pays the bill.
 
Gado.Mike Keefe.

The civilizing process:
Malvados.
We killed almost all of the natives.
It's lucky a few were left ...
... for us to sell.
 
Malvados.
I don't feel like making love.
Think!   What would a great leader do in this situation?
A war!
 
Girls framed in various dimensions:
Girl framed in pink neon.Anorexic girl (Sarah Bond) framed in toxic waste.

Angeli seems to be sinking:
Angeli.
Angeli.
If so, then I am at least in good company.
 

Humans walk by falling forward:

Profane, Angel and Geronimo gave up girl-watching about noon and left the park in search of wine. An hour or so later, Rachel Owlglass, Profane's Rachel, passed by the spot they'd abandoned, on her way home.

There is no way to describe the way she walked except as a kind of brave sensual trudging: as if she were nose-deep in snowdrifts, and yet on route to meet a lover. She came up the dead center of the mall, her gray coat fluttering a little in a breeze off the Jersey coast. Her high heels hit precise and neat each time on the X's of the grating in the middle of the mall. Half a year in this city and at least she learned to do that. Had lost heels, and once in a while composure in the process; but now could do it blindfolded. kept on the grating just to show off. To herself.

(Thomas Pynchon, V, chapter two: The Whole Sick Crew)
 
Neil Young is in the news these days. No one told me he was coming. Out of the loop. No invitations. Today I am just humming a fragment I remember from somewhere, "... can't go wrong till I get right." Not sure where it comes from?
 
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