A short poem I’ve written about Big Brother. How sad this time of year suddenly becomes.
These hipsters and porn stars,
Contenders behind bars,
They’re stealing our summer away.
Front line fashionistas,
The clowns and skirt fillers,
They grin as our prime time decays.
Are they high? Deluded?
Mentally secluded?
Yet, we’ll watch. Everyday.
PnLx
Just remember, they aren’t real people.
Posted in Words.
I think we’re all meant to see life as satire. The only shame is that we’ll never know what we’re a parody of. We’ve just got to choke it down and chalk it up as backward because of a invisible forwards. We are the yang of nonsense, to the perfect ying. The podge to the hodge.
I think that’s why people have tried making religion, because wouldn’t it just be brilliant if there was an impeccible force that created this. And this became a mess, because nothing could ever match how flawless the force was. It makes sense.
The truth is though that, as we keep digging, we keep finding rocks that describe how this chaos is a very specific chaos. We find stars that map out the details of our catastrophe. We find atoms, then protons, then quarks, and we slowly realise that every moment has been immaculately and disasterously structured by the calamitous event that proceeded it. Although, maybe we’ll never know just how perfect it is until the unanswerable is answered; until we know how it began.
The only truth there is is that there will be discord, and it will be beautiful.
PnLx for the first time in June. I’ll post more, I promise, and perhaps it will be Eristic. Though, then, what human endevour is not. Ha.
Posted in Words.
So … since we’re here and all … *ahem*
Green valleys of rust from a far look lush
Now southern California reigns.
Build mountains on stones, live lives under thrones
As crumbs of the kings who decay.
Our rag doll soldiers shrink when we’re older.
Red wine will run through favourite veins.
Though the sun will scour for our plastic flowers,
It can’t help but shine on the plains.
Anyway, how are all ya’ll. Miley Cirusesesisus has a new film out. And that Hairy Hugh Jackyman. And Matthew McHo..Hona..Honnahey? Yeah …
To be honest, Jackman just screwed it up with that Baz-crap-tastic Australia. You’d think he’d have more pride in his homeland. It was shameless, and whorish. It does seem he’s now adopted that walkabout kid, too. He’s in this new film.
And Matthew is just awful. Mostly because Family Guy say so, but also because of all of his films. I guess you don’t come close to being as terrible as Miss Montanna, though. All those teens on the micky mouse channel, they all remind me of one thing … The Hilter Youth.
Please do note, however, I have not seen these new movies. Wolverine does look fun.
I won’t keep you with my pretensions.
It’s been so long I’ve breathed
In the pink blossom trees.
So long - no - too long!
Too long, I believe.
The sweat of the day
Makes worthwhile, they say.
They say a lot
Of things to me.
The fizzle of rain
Like static TV
Kills more than the beast
That is eating me.
PnLxx Praise be to discord.
Posted in Words.
Smorgasbord. Isn’t that just a brilliant word. Say it. Shmoor-Gas-Boord. Yum.
Smorgasbord - a Swedish buffet style lunch, usually involving bread and cold meats, however it has been adopted by Americans and used in connection with any buffet style meal. It’s also used in English as a synonym for plethora, or, according to Wikipedia, Hodge-Podge. Which is a Victorian stew made from left overs. Or - if you are as I am; a Discordian - it is the infamous name for the holy symbol that defines and explains life’s constant struggle and balance between each and every polar opposite in our entire universe.
Discordian - a believer of Discord. See: The Principia Discordia
“Moral perfection isn’t necessary for a Discordian Sainthood. You just have to suffer a lot.” Kerry W. Thornley.
I’ll tell you what, stick around and I might just post a proper post about religion and Discordianism. Of course, being something I wrote, it wont make huge amounts of sense, but it’ll be a nice little day trip for you into the realms of my mind.
PnL.x
Posted in Words.
Maybe it’s just running away, but not from anything you can picture. Not from a person or a place. Perhaps from an emotion, bit it’s even more abstract than that. It’s something indefinable, yet undeniable. Maybe something we fear, or a nothing that we fear. A fear that is pre-existing, something programmed in our primeval core, something we once needed when we were savage and in constant battle for survival, but has since become unnecessary in our comfortable lives. Something that has grown despondent and aggravated as it withers into the spongy pit of our gut. Maybe it’s our last connection to our caveman colours, an invisible appendix that inflames, jolting all our adrenaline and all of our motivation into the desperate cause to run. Our mind, our human, may say that we are running towards something, searching something, all in the hope to hush our frustrated animal within. And I don’t know how we stop. Perhaps when we are tired and can’t take any more. Perhaps when we have grown old enough to resist succumbing to the fear. Or perhaps we never do.
PnL.x
Posted in Words.
What a whore. There it is, the offending article. Its words dressed up in fishnet stockings and clad in pink fur. The wind that whistles up its empty skirt. Its hanging cigarette. Its sunken face. Its collar bones revealed framing plump fake boobs to passer by, before it quickly wraps itself back up, folding its arms and closing shut.
How To … it reads. Doling out generic information. Its weak body trying to support a plush idea, stolen by some other genius or expert.
Advice to self satisfy. Helping no one but itself. Practically begging to be used, begging to service, begging for someone to think that it’s useful. Begging with fake boobs and a cigarette smile. Begging with half hearted eyebrows and desperate eyes. Begging.
And maybe there was a time, a time when this would have been wanted, perhaps needed, perhaps a symbol of wealth and power, perhaps. Although, it’s hard to see that any joy would come from such an unforgiving firgure with such undesirable curves. No continuity. Perhaps a different mouth would say it better.
In the end, the self help is just that. Authors helping themselves to your dignity. Saving themselves by pretedning to save you. Born alone, die alone. Why not live alone too.
-
On a lighter note, I’m on holiday! Fuck yeah. It’s half ten and I’m just about to have a sandwich. Living dangerously? I think so.
PnL.xx
Posted in Words.
I am continuously astounded by all the amazing things the internet can do. Sometimes you forget that it’s not just a place for YouTube-ing someone falling over a dozen times, receiving spam email for Viagra, and late night drunken porn. It has some proper uses. People can make careers via the internet from their own living room. Business relationships can be formed. God I hate that term. Business relationships. Implying some sort of emotional or empathetic quality to all of our pinstripes and paperwork. I saw a video today (here) which shows what computers could do in the future, and everyone bar the children are wearing suits in glassy offices that tower above a mechanical metropolis as they work on their “team skills” and “business relationships”. What a way we’ve come from the cave dwellings and spearheads. Take that, conflicted humanity. Watch us prove that we can be all we aspire to be, that we can be completely functional and robotic. That we’re not animals, we’re not clouded in judgement by these pesky instincts and urges, we are humans. We are wired up the rafters with logic and targets and “business relationships”. Anyway, what? Yes! The internet, an amazing thing. Today I realised just how pro-active you can be with it. Like, twitter just doesn’t have to be me saying inane comments about my fleeting day, it can be full of tweeted links and re-tweeted links (which, despite how brilliant it’s meant to be, just conjures images of regurgitating into the mouths of whoever is gaping open below me) and a plethora of information and interest. And, for example, this website, this whole domain, it doesn’t have to be dedicated to whatever irrelevant horseshit I make up on the spot. It could be informational, or useful, or news. It could be me making a name for myself as a whatever. I could be building business relationships! Oh, wait, hang on …
PnL.x
Posted in Words.
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