Saturday, August 13, 2005

Hi there. I’m drinking ice water out of an aquaman glass. I recently hooked up two each of batman and robin glasses, you know, two of each, for a total of four, plus Arthur of atlantis equals five. No more will I utter that of which you are. It’s implied. And if it’s not, or it’s not true, than so be it. I have to live with it. It’s not like sarcastically implying that it’s a lie is gonna make it any better for me or you. In fact it prolly makes it worse. Shit, who knows. I’m stoked about going to new york. And phillie. I’ll be there. Yup, it’s true. I’m hoping to like get crunk. You know. Not in like that sense or this sense, but in that otherworldly sense of networking and living and being and finding the inner Schwartz that we’re prolly all looking for, even the ones that long ago gave up and don’t even know they’re still trying. Sigh. Anyway. I’m getting sleepy and it’s just about time for bed. Don’t forget the ovaltine, and, uh, shit, I dunno. Do you ever reach a point where everything that you say sounds like you’ve already said it before. Maybe that’s a sign. Maybe it’s a sign that I should either shut the fuck up or start actually saying something. Or maybe it’s symbolic of the, fuck, some political bullshit. Either way, you win, I win, or we both lose, or some combination thereof where I’m the opposite of you, or we both sit copacetic and don’t really shift our realities either way. Does it really fucking matter, at least right this minute? Yeah, prolly, but fuck it.

Friday, August 12, 2005

The degree of fascination that you have for this paragraph is such to the degree that you have this strange feeling of having to go to the bathroom. Don’t worry. Trust me. It’s nothing to do with your bladder or bowels, it’s just the fact that, well, you’ve never been quite so interested in something as you are in these words you are reading right now. This is what it feels like to be almost exploding with the deepest possible curiosity and reverent respect and awe and shock, and all those mixed emotions involved in just being to the level of you can’t even describe what you would do if you could bottle it up and sell it on 5th street, not that you ever would, you’d hoard it for yourself in your medicine cabinet, never leaving your house, going in there for a fix every 3.5 hours. And it’s good for you too. At least it would be if it existed. Cuz this ain’t it, you only thought it was, you’ll wake up in 20 years feeling jipped and realizing as you hold the tattered and worn and fingerprint infested printout of this text that you’ll never get that time back and that all your life has led up to you hating me and the internet for this cosmic deception. Sorry in advance.

Jesus goddamm Christ I know I’ve written something almost exactly like that before. Oh well, spidey fights doc ock once a year, and batman ain’t thrown the joker off the bell tower yet (even though mike keaton did) so I guess repetition is the new chartreuse.

True Jamie Bing

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

There’s actually some interesting stuff to say, but organizing my brain enough, er, rather, laying it out there in a way in which it can be comprehended, not that I’ve ever been concerned with that prior, is such an effort that I keep an eye on the fax for the purchase order which must be forthcoming to even consider it, not that I deserve payment for this crap, that’s just the point, if I did, it would be, er, in some type of form whereby of which you could formulate some type of opinion on it? Or not. Maybe it’s better in that I’m not compensated, and, thus, you get more of a straight line from the dome to the screen, you know, like it’s more real? But that’s just quite the cop out, methinks, in that, well, the diluted or rather non diluted is in no way any more real than something of higher quality. Everything’s real and all is bullshit, just the nature of the world & the beast. Real is such an ephemeral concept that trying to capture it is like chasing butterflies with a butcher knife. You have to be skilled and lucky and cosmic forces have to be aligned, and then, still, the result will just be something of which may have had more meaning in its prior form, while vastly misunderstood and deemed inconceptual via its inability to hold on to and control, has now, in its facility of being owned, having become property, lost all intrinsic value.

Monday, August 08, 2005

Howdy pards. I’ll start it off the same so you think I’m doing the same ol’ shit. There’s prolly some dankerville ol’ comic cover on your left or right or above as well just so you’re under the false impression that this is just some run of the mill ass crapsterpiece region of grizzly bear type ill crapola but you & I both know fuck grizz it’s all bout the golden, yup, you, me, the wolf in the corner gnawing on some 10 year old girl’s skeleton hand, we all have that secret knowledge of the world under the otha level, the one bushwick bill thought he copyrighted. Yup, we see that shit, the one that all the “others” slide over with their people movers or suv’s, or whatever the fuck people travel the outer plains on, how the fuck should I know, I’m at the bottom of the swimming pool, looking down through the drain, trying to figure out where Sigmund the sea monster is, knowing he’s munching kim-chee down there, bogarting the joint with captain caveman, while our beloved cro-mag drowns in a sea of water combined with oververbalized egocentric balderdash. Ha ha booyaka cuz the joke is that after all that I lazed out & it is the that which it was & you knew it would be yet feared it may not or would actually be? Yeah, that. I’ll try to actually do something later, involving, um, telling you stuff.