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Sunday, May 9, 2004
Nancy Sinatra- Bang, Bang
I was five and he was six
We rode on horses made of sticks
He wore black and I wore white
He would always win the fight
Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down
Seasons came and changed the time
When I grew up, I called him mine
He would always laugh and say
"Remember when we used to play?"
Bang bang, I shot you down
Bang bang, you hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, I used to shoot you down
Music played and people sang
Just for me the church bells rang
Now he's gone. I don't know why
And till this day, sometimes I cry
He didn't even say goodbye
He didn't take the time to lie
Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down
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Steel
My face
i feel small whiskers
on it
my hands
are bigger
than they used to be
i am wearing
a tight shirt
a tight pair of jeans
and i feel too tight
it's more than it used to be
you see, i'm a killer,
i kill my meat.
i kill what i eat.
and, though this fleshly form
i see a little hand in me.
little face to me,
no whiskers,
no big hands,
no tight jeans,
he's got fat on his skin,
he's got feeble eyes, got glasses that don't look so stylish,
he doesn't know what's gonna go,
and i'm a murderer, i hunt what i eat,
i kill it till it's gone,
make sure it doesn't live.
this fucker's
gonna die.
(funny all the killing,
going on, in this world,
funny how i died yesterday
and i've gotta die again)
bang bang,
i pull the gun, that solemn sound,
and i watch the eyes go blank,
staring up at the sky who did it all.
(smoke hissin from the muzzle)
someday i'm gonna kill it all.
(it's just putting
a dog
to sleep.)
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Saturday, May 8, 2004
The Dead Cogs of Time.
I'm gonna kill her? She's hot though. Perhaps my hormones are at me too much, but I think, if I have to kill her, I'll get to know her, fall in love with her, and fuck her (or, for those who want it to sound romantic--I'd make sweet passionate love to her, there).
Wonder if I'd still kill her then, after falling in love. . .
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See, I'm a, I'm a steel worker, I kill what I eat.
word scramble
the words i remembered--
the ones i was gonna tell you--
mess onto the ground,
fall all around,
and i look down
see them scattered all over there
see some in pairs,
others alone.
i’m wondering how i could let them fall
like this.
must’ve been in my wrist,
how i tried to fling them out,
and hope i could let you catch em
with style.
it’s gonna be a while,
just a little bit
don’t worry about it.
they’re all on the ground,
it’s true.
there’s one right there--i see a u.
it’s staring at me and i wonder if it‘s kinda blue.
it looks kinda sad, i’d say.
wonder what happened to make it so.
must’ve been this show, the way it kinda kills you.
it’s OK, i know you can make it.
you’ll get through.
and what’s this i see,
it’s all over me,
many I’s staring over now.
they’re all bent, crooked,
wretched gnarled and crude.
who the hell let it get so nude?
it’s like they’re wearing bones
and skin’s falling off them.
the I’s, i believe, have much to mean.
they seem strewn on the floor,
bloodless gore, naked, sore.
wonder what these I’s looked like before?
too bad i can’t find out.
they look kinda lost, all point when and where.
wonder when they’re gonna find their place?
maybe never, maybe someday.
maybe it’s not too far.
now the letters, all over the floor,
they’re coming together, selling themselves to me.
it’s like they’re whores.
but they’re not--they’re much more.
what the letters spell doesn’t cost a thing,
it’s the least expensive rose i can give,
or the least expensive assassin i can hire.
the bullets will penetrate your skull, you’ll expire.
the roses will red in bloom, love’s swoon, and hold you close.
whatever you want i can give it with these.
don’t you ever doubt me when i use these.
i can make you fall, in amazement, to your knees.
i can make you numb, in indifference, with ease.
i can touch you with hands i don’t even have.
i can grab you, caress you, seduce you as i please.
i can do most anything.
and you look kinda blue.
i think you need them now.
i think i can lift you with them, up as high as you want,
pound-by-pound.
you don’t weigh much right now.
what is it you want?
you wanna be on top of a skyscraper?
you wanna be down in the ground?
you wanna see me inside?
i can do it all, just hold your seat, because you’re in for a ride.
i’ll take you wherever you wanna glide, or wherever you wanna go.
all you gotta do is put my words, all over this floor, together.
then we can get going to forever, or to never.
i wish i could show you
all the letters down here.
they’re spelling words i never knew i had,
and making things i’ve never seen.
this is really the weirdest thing,
it’s really the most bizarre.
i wonder where you are.
i wonder where you are, you falling star.
i wanna have that scar.
and the letters
they are a mess
all over, and the
stress, and all
the things i
wanted to say.
they fall down
on the ground
scattered all
around, and
i wonder what’s
here i still
haven’t found.
so much to see,
so much to be,
but i’ve gotta
go.
the words spelled out
cold
like water in the winter’s spring
this is a blue green,
this is a red spleen,
the heart, it is a wondrous
machine.
let’s not wilt, for there is much
to see.
love’s gonna sting, the words into me,
and you’ll kiss,
your hips,
the way it lips,
it’ll kill but it’ll spill,
don’t let it go, let it show, give it grow,
i’ve got something to show.
i like the way you walk,
i like the words you make me say.
let’s find the letters to spell.
it’ll go well in this deep well
where many night-like waters trickle.
can i just give you a tickle?
it’s all right, i’m not gonna stab you with a sickle.
can i just give you a tickle?
it’s in this
water, the gloom,
where wet, there is set
the words, all a mess.
we’ll put em together, we’ll coalesce.
it’s just a wishing well,
don’t get so riled up over it.
you don’t have to yell.
the words will find it, climb it,
and tell.
let’s listen
i can hear
the trickle
just the tickle
of the words.
how wet they make me,
how dry they take me.
it’s gonna flow,
the words’re gonna row
to the edge.
you like this ledge?
then let’s just stand for a while,
looking down while it looks back to us.
i think this is where it’s best.
let’s just be here.
the words all over us,
nothing to fear.
let’s just be here.
mistake the man make
the mistake make the man
--then he alienates
in isolation until
he is broken by machine hand of
fate
left to grow, and finds
he is nothing.
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Friday, May 7, 2004
Harry
That's right. I shagged 49% of you women out there. Watch out.
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Ms. Driver
Elle Driver (California Mountain Snake)
You're Elle Driver! Sly and evil, you can manipulate people in order to get whatever you want. You're usually alone, but that's the way you like it. You hate having others nearby to order you around (unless it's Bill, of course... but even then you're still hesitant).Kill Bill: Which Deadly Viper Assassin Are You? (Vol. II spoilers... results with pics)
I still remember this scene. It's such a fully realized scene. How she's wearing that leather, or whatever it is, how the umbrella moves, how Ms. Driver walks--Tarantino knew what he was doing.
What makes the scene so beautiful is her whistling. And how much it just feels right.
Sometimes I catch myself whistling the tune. It's just one of those scenes I really enjoyed.
Obviously, Tarantino uses music a lot for effect in Kill Bill. And it works.
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Bumd
Stressed spelled backwards is dessert, Ms. Mimmi.
Eat it up.
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I thought this was well written, wanted to share.
Now, let me try to give my two cents. For a penny given--two cents, no less--is a penny earned.
How does a person, change you ask? How?
A person changes in many ways. Physically, mentally, psychologically, spiritually. There are many ways. But I am supposing we're focusing on mental, psychological change.
A change is a reaction to a stimulus. When something's put in front of you, or lingers ahead of you, or effects you, it changes you. Each and every day we are changed. There is change which happens within us--changes brought on by our inner feelings, our inner thoughts, or inner selves.
Then there is the stimulus of people who you see each and every day. And the problems of reality we face on a day to day basis, as well.
Simply put, there are internal changes, and there are external changes. Stimuli on the inside of us, which change us, and stimuli on the outside that change us. And, the outside changes can cause the inside changes to change; the inside changes can cause the outside changes to change. These two dimensions of change are directly related, in a way. You couldn't have one without the other. If you could not take what changes you inside of your mind, then you would not change. All change happens on the inside, at least if we're speaking mentally, psychologically. It happens when we are given something from the outside of us--a stimulus--and it does its changing. Or inside--some thought pops into our head, it festers and grows over time. Or we are inspired right then and there.
Read this above as babble, or as genius, or inbetween. It is your choice. I'm not even sure what it is, exactly. But it nudges some idea.
To put something in the reality versus perception debate: think about it. The way we see things in our mind, the way we see everything is perceived by what we see with our eyes, smell with our senses, taste with our tongue.
The way the mind works is from memory--and from talking this so-called "reality" and turning into something of its own. Our minds learn and grow and become what they are because of our senses, and because of what we see. Without this so-called "reality," our minds wouldn't have a tangible way to see things. We wouldn't get a certain image in our head of anything. Our minds are tainted by so-called "reality." What we see is what we take in mentally. This is what's called perception.
Further, there's endless ways to look at the world. You see the differing philosophies. There's the naturalist, there's the realist, there's the romanticist, there's the trascendentalist. There's all these ways to look at things. There's the question of God--and his existence. All of these things are undefined, and can be seen via what someone sees--their perception.
I've said this many times, but I say it again--what's bad is good, what's good is bad; what's foul is fair, what's fair is foul. By this I mean there's no one way to look at something. There is no reality. There is nothing real but what we say is real. And when you say something's real--that is perception. That is seeing it one way and only one way. There's few things that are real. Love? Hate? God? Fill in anything here, it's all abstract, it's all intangible--you can't touch it, you can't feel it. You just feel it's there. It's just a perception.
Life is a gift? Life is a curse? Life is a waste of time? Life is lovely? Life is. What's life? We don't know, we question it each and every day. We sway from one notion to the other, of what we believe it is. Life itself has nothing secure, certain in it--all you know is you'll live, one day you'll die. So there is one thing humans seach for--rememberance and validation. They want to feel their time, their effort, their strain, pain, emotions, are not in frustra, are not in vain.
Is a person defined by those around him or her? Of course they are defined by them. When a baby is first born, it gets what it gets from its parents. Those around. It listens to all it hears, it gets memories from all the people around, it grows because of their love and care. A baby learns from many things, and these things change it--influence it. A baby may watch their parents walk; it may learn from observation. It learns to talk from its parents, listening to them speak. It may get some pronunciations wrong just because its parents say them wrong. A baby eventually learns manners in the world, how you're supposed to be. Don't belch at the table, don't stare at others, eat with a fork and a spoon and a knife.
Taking what I said before, what we are is actually what the outside world makes us. The people we see each day--every outside stimuli--it's what makes us who we are. Our entire perception of everything is from what's outside. We take it all in and it comes together to make us. It's a system of mistakes fixing insufficencies. It's a collection of your reaction to the stimuli. We are who we are completely by what has made us outside. That's our Fate. We never become what we truly are because there is nothing we truly are--we are a collection of safes and mistakes fixing each other. By learning, we are further destroyed of anything that we could be--we learn something and we become different. We change. We begin to expect the stimuli we'll feel, and react.
. . .how can one be certain they are aware of themselves at all, or if they are sure of who they are, if they are constantly being redefined by the outside world? You can't. What you are is what this so-called "reality" has made you. The conditions that've made you. What pressure and time's done. What it's created. There is nothing we are truly--if you want to know what you really are, then you are a being. A collection of teeming cells all working together to make you. A frail being who has a larger brain than any other animal on Earth. That is what you are. That is all you'll ever be. Just a human, flesh. That's what you are. You can't be any more certain than that.
Why does one have this...desire to be with someone else? Is it to feel validation? Love? Peace? When we undergo the rapid changes of puberty, our bodies begin feeding us full of sexual chemicals. Our body undegoes changes which make us attracted to the opposite sex.
It's natural. That's the answer. It's a natural inclination. It's something that nature has built into us as animals. A natural need to have the opposite sex. We need someone else so that we can come together with another and try to understand ourselves more. To try to fix something. We're all broken, we need repair. Feeling mutual feelings, as well as having another helps this. Plus, having another allows us to further divert our attention away from ourselves and the endless plethora of questions of who we really are. It's like a lot of things are--they simply divert attention, they make it so you don't have to face these pressing questions. Instead, you live only to serve someone who you feel strong, passionate feelings for. You live for them rather than yourself. You stop being so innerly selfish and instead become selfish to them.
This is what we do most of our lives: we keep our attention away from the pressing facts of death, what life is meant for, who we are. We are happier this way. Happier in ignorance. Happier not to question, just to do--work our lives away, love our lives away.
Do human beings honestly feel that they can be whole when they are with someone else? Yes, but eventually, they learn love does not last. Nothing good can last. All things good die in life. The death of the child, the death of the love you've fostered, the aging of you. The eventual death of you. And the endless question of what happens afterward.
Love does die. I've seen it. My mom divorced my father when I was only three. My mom and my step dad don't even love each other any more. A divorce of them has been a constant reminder to me of how much history repeats itself, endlessly, like a circle. There's no angles. . .just 360 degrees of a wide open space.
It all comes to survival. . .that's what keeps us going. This feeling we can do what we feel we can do. Just remember Neo, and what he said. He gets up because he can, because he chooses to. . .he doesn't know why. . .he just does. It's survival.
Having another one to devote your life to lets you survive. It makes you stronger because you're worrying about you less, and worrying about the other person more.
Human beings can never be whole. What is being whole? How can something broken be whole? Certainly, the coalescion of two beings of the opposite sex can sew together something that's whole. But it doesn't last. Everything dies. Everything good does and will die. A ship, above the darkness of the Machine, does and will rise, but just the same, it will fall because it has weight, and inertia, and it will hit the ground and something will die and something will be born.
Is the human race so weak that they are unable to live alone? The human race is weak. Look at a simple-minded animal--they simply live their existence, and they don't even know they are living an existence. All they know is their natrual proclivities and what it is nature has told them to do. We rebel against nature. We are weak because of this. Intelligence makes us weak because it gets in the way of living and survivial. The constant questioning and the constant struggle of survival gets in the way. We live a pained existence which we try to keep to ourselves. We are weak, feeble creatures: our intelligence makes us this. But intelligence has its positive aspects as well. But in the end, it is not worth it to me.
We will go extinict either by nature or our own foolish device. Atom bombs. Robots. Whichever. Our intelllect will kill us someday. It already has killed many in wars, in other petty things.
We can live alone, but the real question is will we? The people I talk to each day are what make living most worth it. I agree with John Steinbeck: we all need something to keep us in balance. Just like Agent Smith and Neo. Just like George, from Of Mice and Men--or Brooks-- did.
Living with someone else makes life easier because we divert our attention from the pressing concerns of our life, and what it will become, or is. Or has been.
When we don't have others--or a lover--we are left alone. When alone, we become egomanical--we look inside ourselves, searching, probing endlessly at the questions which have no answers. Other people divert our attention from this--make us realize our lives are pointless, and their lives mean more than our own, because if you put your heart to someone else, and they do the same, you can feel more whole.
Is the human race so weak that they are constantly driven by a deep, burning desire to feel validated? Yes. We want to be remembered. We do not want to die. We want to survive and live all of the time. Validation brings about a feeling that we've accomplished something in our lives, and that is the main force that drives us to live.
Our intelligence and our knowing that not everything we do will last drives us to supercede this existence and Fate and become something that never dies. This is weak. We are weak creatures. A worm is stronger than us because it lives in harmony with nature, and has a purpose--as does a baterium, who rids the soil of waste. Or a plant, who gives the Earth oxygen in exhange for taking carbon dioxide in the process of photosynthesis.
We live a plagued existence, and we use our intelligence to try and validate it. We fight to make something that will last.
I'm running out of time. I'll answer as succint as I can.
What is reality? Perception.
How do people define themselves? By what they see, and their memories, and what's made them who they are.
Is there such a thing as individuality? I think so. Again, it's seeing things and seeing them in many ways, and doing your own thing.
Is there such a thing as a pure individual, who is somehow unaffected by any societal influence at all? Not in this day and age. Perhaps in the past, when we were but normadic tribes.
Likewise, if someone is not confident in their abilities, what drives them--compels them to take solace in others around them? To feel validated by being in a relationship? Since I'm out of time, I'll say I said this somewhere above, lol. The second part of the question's much like one above.
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Thursday, May 6, 2004
Tool- Aenema
Some say the end is near.
Some say we’ll see armageddon soon.
I certainly hope we will.
I sure could use a vacation from this
Bullshit three ring circus sideshow of
Freaks
Here in this hopeless fucking hole we call la
The only way to fix it is to flush it all away.
Any fucking time. any fucking day.
Learn to swim, I’ll see you down in arizona bay.
Fret for your figure and
Fret for your latte and
Fret for your lawsuit and
Fret for your hairpiece and
Fret for your prozac and
Fret for your pilot and
Fret for your cable and
Fret for your car.
It’s a
Bullshit three ring circus sideshow of
Freaks
Here in this hopeless fucking hole we call la
The only way to fix it is to flush it all away.
Any fucking time. any fucking day.
Learn to swim, I’ll see you down in arizona bay.
Some say a comet will fall from the sky.
Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves.
Followed by faultlines that cannot sit still.
Followed by millions of dumbfounded dipshits.
Some say the end is near.
Some say we’ll see armageddon soon.
I certainly hope we will cuz
I sure could use a vacation from this
Silly shit, stupid shit...
One great big festering neon distraction,
I’ve a suggestion to keep you all occupied.
Learn to swim.
Mom’s gonna fix it all soon.
Mom’s comin’ round to put it back the way it ought to be.
Learn to swim.
Fuck L Ron Hubbard and
Fuck all his clones.
Fuck all those gun-toting
Hip gangster wannabes.
Learn to swim.
Fuck retro anything.
Fuck your tattoos.
Fuck all you junkies and
Fuck your short memory.
Learn to swim.
Fuck smiley glad-hands
With hidden agendas.
Fuck these dysfunctional,
Insecure actresses.
Learn to swim.
Cuz I’m praying for rain
And I’m praying for tidal waves
I wanna see the ground give way.
I wanna watch it all go down.
Mom please flush it all away.
I wanna watch it go right in and down.
I wanna watch it go right in.
Watch you flush it all away.
Time to bring it down again.
Don’t just call me pessimist.
Try and read between the lines.
I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t
Welcome any change, my friend.
I wanna see it all come down.
Wanna bring it down
SUCK IT DOWN
FLUSH IT DOWN.
This is a song I always come back to, and it always blows me away. If you haven't heard this song, even if you don't agree with it, it's worth a listen. It's a very powerful song, and everything in it perfectionately sounds like what it's saying.
And if you haven't heard Tool, then that makes me even more sad. An amazing, amazing band.
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The Wall
I'm not talking about the concept album, I'm talking about the movie.
If you haven't seen this movie, it's a shame. The movie's 22 years old, and still, to this day, it stands right up on its two legs.
There are many striking things about this movie. But the thing is, at the moment, I don't have the time to digress about them--and it would be wasted breath, too. It's better to get to the point.
Many people seem to say, "This is a movie you watch when you're high." They're wrong. This movie makes perfect sense. It's like looking into Roger Waters, and seeing everything that made him.
My column this issue--the one that's the story about Kid--was influenced by this movie. The piece, which most readers didn't like, "Banging Your Heart," was influenced by the wall.
The Wall's like looking inside yourself. You see your psyche in what Roger Waters shows of his. The movie's just genius. I love this movie. It reminds me of how I write things sometimes, and there's maggots in the movie, too. It's as if this movie has always been some part of me, with the maggots and all. It's really strange like that.
This is a movie that'll stay with you a long time. . .that'll keep making you think. The beauty of this movie is you can think of it in so many ways. The ambiguity of it is what makes it so great--you're just thrown into this movie, this thing, and you come out of it however you come out.
At the end, when "The Trial" is played, and the big worm--who's the honor--reprimands Pink is amazing.
When "Goodbye Blue Sky" is playing, it's like watching what the human race is. In it, we're shown an artistic representation of a dove turning into a large plane that looks like a monster. We're shown people dying from radiation poisoning. We're shown the destruction war brings.
War isn't just a physical thing, it's a mental, psychologic thing. Inside us there's always a war.
It's shown that after the war, the humans rebuild. That's the human race right there. Just surviving.
There's one so beautiful scene where two flowers move around and twist and contort, and they come into one another, penetrate, and what you see is a flower, but it looks like penetration in sex. The flower then turns into this big, ugly, monster. It looks like it kills everything. "Empty Spaces" is what plays during this scene, and it's such a perfect, amazing, wonderful scene. It'll stay with me forever.
Basically, what The Wall is about is a human life, and all the things that happen. It's done in an amazing way.
Just see it.
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