Friday, March 19, 2004

I once saw dj shadow at wave Waikiki and I gotta say, excellent performance dude, you rocked the house three times the hardest way, oh, no, I am not saying such cheezie shit about such legendary moves, it just ain’t right, it’s like, major propogating and uh shit, no it’s not, c’mon man, be strong, we can get through this just like we got through atwater’s convention in phillie last week, you know, the rides on that garish wooden rollercoaster with the stratocaster models, it was sick, dog, and, well, you know that something’s gonna happen when the hooper triplets show up to, uh, wait, no, not like that, or yeah, or no, or shizzle mcdizzle well that just puts us in a little tizzle now don’t it? just nod your head yes, lassie.

Fuuuuuukn, shit I, oh, no, oh no he didn’t, not try to wear MY shirt in MY club on MY turf I’mma kick his ass up and down and through the door for Alabama monthly magazine reading motherfuckers everywhere whoever felt like a rat was ridin right on his missus and like just beatin that mofo laterally and bi-equilaterally on like regularized issues and regulations. Serially and totally unintentionally but in a factual and almost arrogant sense of self worth and pride and thinking you’re the shit, when it’s just shit on toast, an ill imagined and not quite so oftenly magic carpet ride of dungeonmasteresque waves of insanity.

And, yeah. So don’t forget to drink a SHITLOAD of ovaltine.


Thursday, March 18, 2004

just killed a cockroach slow, like veddy slow and painful like. cuz i was pissed at it, for invading my drawer, my personal space, feeding, on something.

just like the iraq situation is engorging on the american psyche, but not even so much as the mags will make you think, could it still be about the economy stupid? sheeit, no doze, but not nearly the ish that vietnam was, but shit, body count's rising out there, big death toll at that temple bombing and then this hotel going up, and all the while, shit, like, but this time nobody's committing that it's not all worth it anyway. who's to say that iraq isn't better now than it was under sadaam. sure, you have you're freedom but it's a fucking war zone, yeah there's opportunities, but there the worst kind, wartime, fortunes and degradations are born and confounding for generations to come. the people of baghdad are not what they were before individually with regard to class race fukn all kines shit. but possibly if the swiss and other banks are proper enuff to hold on to that shit, cuz it wasn't just the corrup that kept og accounts, i mean, shit, check the files, or, well, not THE files, but the, um history ones, fuck tangent central.

and fukn kerry. he, fuck, i don't know, he doesn't seem like the REAL real deal, but fuck the real real can't win.

you don't even fuckn know how engrossed i am in this hst book. unfucknbelievable. i keep wanting to quote stuff, but i figger i linked all that shit and if people are interested they can go hunt it (uh no pun intended, literally) down themselves and get to moving on just tripping out on that shit, cuz lordie knows i'm trippin, i'm strait lateral and zonin out non-britney style on that shit, in many way shape form compositions that you just might not reckanize the game until it's shoved down your throat like arthur fonzerelli with the hooper triplets.

but back to kerry, ok i'll say it, since i already referenced the book and that my noggin is wrapped around it, i mean, yeah, i'ts a bouncing ground, ok, um, wandering again, back to kerry. john kerry likes every issue that comes around, he's like, the chameleon, and like fuck, i'm confused again. but anyway, one thing you should know is that he's kind of a big pile. but i didn't like that guy from vermont either, he was, just, shit, you know, frankly? the whole thing about him losing just cuz of that overwrought speech? fuck, i believe it. that's why i wouldn't have voted for him either. but, shit, hawaii is like the very last primary or some shit, if we even have fukn primaries, and it's already decided, ok, water under the bridge, let it go captain.

back to kerry. hmmm, don't really have any thoughts, he bores me, he's not NEARLY as bad as al gore, but still, it's like, bleh. i don't know, i respect the whole vietnam thing, of course, but his whole voted for the war didn't vote for the way it was instigated type deal that he's doing without willing to go on record condemming the whole thing, it's like "well we shouldn't have done that, but it's good that we did, so kids, remember just cuz drinking booze and fucking hoes makes you rich and famous doesn't make it right, so go upstairs, keep studying, remember your quadratic formula, and maybe someday you'll make around half a hundred thou, give or take 10 or 15 grand, and then you'd really be a big baller, but you'd already be to old to really pimp it out the game style, but constantly remember you could have just as well ended up in a crack den blowing ice and slurping johnsons for quick cash then remembering to leave the stove on when you head out for the morning chickenhunt. end quote.

fuck, that's some sellout shit, like perping that i'm just gonna end it there. uh, go clippers. there, cheesy closing line for hte masses to sell out all over, and then hit whore it, and playa hata and old skool masterbater from the seventh junction of the afroman and skater friend club.

dood the thing on chappelle show with lil jon at the doctor's office is pretty funny.


the funny thing about astromedallions is that you never really know exactly how much they're worth. now don't get me wrong, i'm not saying that astromedallions, at least the official ones, are not to be trusted as a standard currency for various transactions over 83 dollars, because, well, an astromedallion is an astromedallion is a... well, you get the picture, each one is worth the same amount. the problem we've encountered with the bean counters over here at the skunk works, however, is the fact that the market for them varies so fantastically from one day to the next, with the weird phenomenon of always coming back to center at one point or another. see, you can always take to the bank that an astromedallion will be worth the amount of what it's worth at some point unknown in time in the past or future, you know, like, the median is guaranteed to be achieved, and usually, within a week or two, see, like, on sunday, if you catch it on a good day, it might be worth like 75 dollars more, or close to double, without nailing me down on a wood plank and forcing me to give you an exact figure, and, inversely, the next day it could drop down to like $5 per unit. No one, at least in this day and age, has any rational explanation for this, but I blame sunspots, not that it matters for the argument, if that's what you would call this, in question. so, getting back to the point, if indeed I strayed off, lots of money is made and lost daily on this standardized tool of commerce, but if you hold it long enough, truly, you know you'll get hooked up, maybe not this week, but almost surely next, and maybe a bonus bag for baby. which begs the question, why would anyone sell and/or buy when the market is tweaked, knowing that eventually, it'll come back to what they need to get their duckets in order and close the deal? and I think I figured it out, it's cuz people are impatient motherfuckers.

there could be 2 people reading this, there could be 2,000, shit, there could be 20,000, or 83 million.

I really have no idea.

And that’s cool.

So how are you today?

Good I hope. Today is a very interesting & beautiful & landmark day for me in a couple different ways, neither of which I’m at liberty, or, well, rather, inclined to, go into detail about at this moment in the netherverse. Leave it to be said or rather intimated that shit is gude gude gouda.

That having been conferred vis a vis the telecommunications netwerk, the moment now comes at which I must mount up in the mystery wagon and go find the purple people eating deep sea diver from the planet jooba.

Wish me luck.

Monday, March 15, 2004

Below is an excerpt from Hunter S. Thompson's Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72. it's been getting me thinking about some of the parallels between this race and the one going on as we speak. in 72 the US was still in vietnam, and although everyone agreed it was the wrong thing, we needed an exit strategy, albeit with tails between legs to some degree. now 32 years later we are still knee deep in a war with iraq which we "won" although we now have the problem of pulling out and not leaving a powderkeg set to explode.

mcgovern ended up winning the democratic nomination and getting thoroughly destroyed by nixon. we're talking as bad as reagon beat mondale in 84, maybe worse. simply because his views were too far left to beat nixon's machine, even come close, and yup, this was the election that nixon & crew got in trouble for bugging offices aka watergate. but in any event, mcgovern was the idealist that they decided to put up and his total annihilation paved the way for typical 2 party politics where you can't even tell the difference between who the fuck is talking about what the hell. but whutevs.

so i think kerry's gonna give bush a good fight nonetheless so they kinda went with the best odds guy, which was a big prognostication of the 72 election (Ed Muskie was the favorite, because it was viewed he had the best chance to beat Nixon, but nobody apparently, well, according to HST, liked him for anything besides that) but it blew up in their face with all the young people/hippies/next generation people that wanted to do everything the right way & the good way and honor the memory of our dead kennedys.

trippy stuff, amazing book, by the way, uh, so yup, have a happy day. i drummed up a WAY inordinate amount of links for reasons i'm still trying to figure out, but maybe you kids will get a kick out of it. either way i win because my goldfish is opening for barry manilow at the waikiki shell tonite. peace, and i will now pass the mike to our esteemed doctor hunter s. thompson:

Bobby Kennedy. Come back to haunt us in the midst of this low-level campaign that would never have been necessary except for Sirhan Sirhan’s twisted little hand… so now we have the taped voice of Robert Kennedy, long before he took a bullet in the brain, endorsing George McGovern on the radio in Milwaukee on Easter morning, four years later…)

There is not much talk about this around the McGovern campaign. It was Frank Mankiewicz’s idea to use the thing, and Mankiewicz was very close to Bobby. He was the one who had to pull himself together on that grim morning in Los Angeles and go out to make The Announcement to a hospital lobby full of stunned reporters: “Senator Kennedy died tonight…”

So the sound of his voice being used as a Paid Political Commercial is just a hair unsettling to some people – even to those who might agree with the McGovern/Mankiewicz presumption that Robert would have wanted it this way.

Maybe so. It’s a hard thing to argue, and the odds are far batter than even that Robert Kennedy would find McGovern preferable to any other candidate for the Democratic nomination at this time. He never had much of a stomach for Hubert, except as the lesser of evils, and it probably never occurred to him that dim hacks like Muskie and Jackson would ever be taken seriously.

So it is probably fair to assume that if Bobby Kennedy were alive today – and somehow retired from politics – he would agree with almost everything McGovern says and stands for. If only because almost everything McGovern says and stands for is a cautious extension of what Bobby Kennedy was trying to put together in the aborted campaign of 1968.

But in another sense the 1972 Democratic Campaign mocks the memory of everything Bobby Kennedy represented in ’68. It is hard to imagine that he would be pleased to see that – four years after his murder – the Democratic Party would be so crippled and bankrupt on all fronts that even the best of its candidates would be fighting for life by trying to put a good face on positions essentially dictated by Nixon & George Wallace.

In purely pragmatic terms, the Kennedy voice tapes will probably be effective in this dreary ’72 campaign; and in the end we might all agree that it was Right and Wise to use them… but in the meantime there will be a few bad losers here and there, like me, who feel a very powerful sense of loss and depression every time we hear that voice – that speedy, nasal Irish twang that mailed the ear like a shot of Let It Bleed suddenly cutting through the doldrums of a dull Sunday morning on a plastic FM station.

There is a strange psychic connection between Bobby Kennedy’s voice and the sound of the Rolling Stones. They were part of the same trip, that wild sense of breakthrough in the late Sixties when almost anything seemed possible.

The whole era peaked on March 31, 1968, when LBJ went on national TV to announce that he wouldn’t run for re-election – that everything he stood for was fucked, and by quitting he made himself the symbolic ex-champ of the Old Order.

It was like driving an evil King off the throne. Nobody knew exactly what would come next, but we all understood that whatever happened would somehow be a product of the “New Consciousness.” By May it was clear that the next President would be either Gene McCarthy or Bobby Kennedy, and the War would be over by Christmas….