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Not Really Giving A Sh*t
(ADVERTISMENT)
but whoah...what a comment on our world. that's way worse than children of men -- i mean, if the hot intelligent females decide they just DON'T want dick anymore -- that could be it. the fucking end.
I'M not a fucking robot.
i don't wanna be a robot either.
but...sasha's my FRIEND, more than just fucking myspace...murdoch, he can go to hell.
sasha's a progressive. there's almost NO american avant-garde to speak of...she's enlightened and sensitive, utterly sophisticated and intellectual...
but -- what does one do? it's so fucked up...
later i figured out what to do...in the united states, at least, there are a lot of desperate women who don't get a lot of exercise...they have low self esteem and frankly, a robot that fucks is just what lot of these women need. it's an alternative...and sasha likes to fuck them. that of course could be a way that we could make money...
i was suggesting to mr. colbert (a decent contact, that guy) that we could form a network -- purpose of said network would be giving sasha, our arch-entrepreneur with the savvy instincts and photogenic style -- to sell the robots.
multimedia...meaning there would be some sort of internet/cellular/cabletv hookup...i can handle that.
--
i think that selling the robots along with pirate DVDs of the beastie boys' GREAT mock infomercial for hello nasty is what i should do. the boys will appreciate it, and it will be good for sasha and myself.
later i figured out what to do...in the united states, at least, there are a lot of desperate women who don't get a lot of exercise...they have low self esteem and frankly, a robot that fucks is just what lot of these women need. it's an alternative...and sasha likes to fuck them. that of course could be a way that we could make money...
i was suggesting to mr. colbert (a decent contact, that guy) that we could form a network -- purpose of said network would be giving sasha, our arch-entrepreneur with the savvy instincts and photogenic style -- to sell the robots.
multimedia...meaning there would be some sort of internet/cellular/cabletv hookup...i can handle that.
--
i think that selling the robots along with pirate DVDs of the beastie boys' GREAT mock infomercial for hello nasty is what i should do. the boys will appreciate it, and it will be good for sasha and myself.
but whoah...what a comment on our world. that's way worse than children of men -- i mean, if the hot intelligent females decide they just DON'T want dick anymore -- that could be it. the fucking end.
I'M not a fucking robot.
i don't wanna be a robot either.
but...sasha's my FRIEND, more than just fucking myspace...murdoch, he can go to hell.
sasha's a progressive. there's almost NO american avant-garde to speak of...she's enlightened and sensitive, utterly sophisticated and intellectual...
but -- what does one do? it's so fucked up...
later i figured out what to do...in the united states, at least, there are a lot of desperate women who don't get a lot of exercise...they have low self esteem and frankly, a robot that fucks is just what lot of these women need. it's an alternative...and sasha likes to fuck them. that of course could be a way that we could make money...
i was suggesting to mr. colbert (a decent contact, that guy) that we could form a network -- purpose of said network would be giving sasha, our arch-entrepreneur with the savvy instincts and photogenic style -- to sell the robots.
multimedia...meaning there would be some sort of internet/cellular/cabletv hookup...i can handle that.
--
i think that selling the robots along with pirate DVDs of the beastie boys' GREAT mock infomercial for hello nasty is what i should do. the boys will appreciate it, and it will be good for sasha and myself.
later i figured out what to do...in the united states, at least, there are a lot of desperate women who don't get a lot of exercise...they have low self esteem and frankly, a robot that fucks is just what lot of these women need. it's an alternative...and sasha likes to fuck them. that of course could be a way that we could make money...
i was suggesting to mr. colbert (a decent contact, that guy) that we could form a network -- purpose of said network would be giving sasha, our arch-entrepreneur with the savvy instincts and photogenic style -- to sell the robots.
multimedia...meaning there would be some sort of internet/cellular/cabletv hookup...i can handle that.
--
i think that selling the robots along with pirate DVDs of the beastie boys' GREAT mock infomercial for hello nasty is what i should do. the boys will appreciate it, and it will be good for sasha and myself.
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- Declare Your Allegiance
- Pirate
- Favorite Ask A Ninja Episode
- the one where...you know the one...
- Relationship Status
- Single
- About Me:
- anarchist. ask and whatever.
- Website:
- http://punx.com/maxwell/
- Favorite Music:
- thee 50's highteens
cibo matto
here's the hamsters
the pillows
p!nk
the cocteau twins
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Comment Wall (23 comments)
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the petty jealousy of geeks IS
a little better than money. OH, YEAH!
the venal geek jealousy!
i write the way that i write on purpose to shame geeks -- and also, to honor the GREAT CREATORS like, oh, Masaaki, Naoko-sensei (aka "naoko da knockout")
it's really funny because, geeks are STUPID.
http://creativeheadspace.ning.com/group/descadata
ALMOST
better than money.
jealous, writhing venal with STUPID jealousy.
it's gonna get so much WORSE for them.
i smile happily, imagining the worldwide cringes of too-late! realisation...
ah...
the best revenge remains not taking any and living well.
happy birthday...
something to do withpartying, having a good time...i mean, i do simple help work for people that's phone-in. barely art.
but when geeks are too busy being shortsighted and jealous and basically useless to enjoy good fun... ha ha ha...
i get to sharpen my "knowing smile" skill.
and coming soon...
love ya.
jaden --
yr pic was so kyoot~ i picniked it...
to just make your features stand out some. it looked sort of faded.
take it~ it's yrz anyway. c-ya -- cat
A SubGenius SlackMonk, Philosopher and ordained Universalist Pastor.
i can address the idea of abundance by saying: look! at how many STARS there are in the sky, anywhere. so very very many...we live in a universe where there is a great abundance of matter -- and yet somehow we are limited, enslaved, even, by a system of military injustice that almost EVERYONE fears and respects. The police State, in short.
where is our freedom? why must all behaviour in our planetary society be conditioned by fear of brutality? i believe that the answer lies in a very cynical attitude about human nature that can be traced to the Greek philosophers who lived in the time of PLATO, ARISTOTLE, SOKRATES...
such men were experimentors,k adventurers in the worlds of Mind. But perhaps they took a view that human nature was less than beautiful -- conditioned by experiences -- and thus, ASSUMED FOR THE WORLD, the future and posterity that human nature would ALWAYS be flawed and "sinful" and therefore, REQUIRED tyrants to force societies into order?
i believe that the great beauty of nature's endless starfields, her nebulas and huge expanses -- is reflected within people, within us, communicating in this cyberelectronic mode, within human beings...and as such, that the old-age, old-world view that we are either born sinners, that our egoes and desires will be the source of spiritual poison, or that we are necessarily weak and need to be manipulated and dominated by those who wield deadly force at the whim of their JUDGMENTS --
is WRONG, that it is a wrong view -- but many people have had it forced upon them, internalism.
i SLEDGE allegiance to such damning views of people and our potential,
i find that the Gaia Hypothesis, which posits that humans are part of the same 'web of life' as nature -- is more sublime.
there is an abundance of potential to create beauty, make love and be very greatly good, within us all. Or: "the kingdom of heaven is within you."
or "i am America...and You Can, Too." anything.
few things rival
for sheer power overwhelm factor.
i especially enjoy solty rei
i don't know how it ends, yet.don't spoil it for me.
--
the most exciting cybermanga, to me, is the one i am working on right now,
Shift*X International -- a story dealing with the famous MARVEL (C) mutants in an alternative timeline. Lots of fun.
because on the small, it was a matter of personal extortion. i was the target. now, i tired the would-be extortionists out, and they gave up but first: what did i have that the three extortionists wanted?
talent. straight up. i'm humble, i know what humble means, but i also know what coveted, sought after, viewed as a commodity means.
i won't name them to protect the innocentas per the usual tradition in writing: but seeing as i am the writer, stright up -- the extortionists were NOT in this case the innocent ones worth protecting. Othere were involved.
I sang in two bands and did lyrics for them: in both situations i was the "stunt vocalist" -- meaning that i was a replacement in established bands for the position of frontman. Lead singer, lyricist. no bproblem. iwas doing stuff, i was partying on the weekend. cool.
along came this one dude. and he suggests to me "chip, i'm getting a project together, i heard you can sing. you wanna jam?"
i knew the guy, a little.
my friend's band was going through bass players epsodically, like they were just getting torn up by the band's schedule and challenging partyfunk approach. when i met the fucker in question, i had seen him wearing a dress. he had skinny hairy legs...it was ugly.
my BUDDY'S band -- and he's still my buddy -- had washed this guy out as bass player. they wore and made COSTUMES for their party funk band,...
dude who wanted me to sing was just a slacker -- they said costumes, he showed up in drag...it was lame, and i remembered, especially his ugly skinny hairy legs...
anyway later he approaches me -- not in drag, and suggests jamming.
sure.
i give it a try. it's sort of mediocre and uninspiring. we jam and he sucks a couple of my friends from the street including jake, the great homeless percussionist.
but it's all a fucking scam. he never wanted a side project. he has his mainstream band and he's trying to suck me in to sing for them.
later i hear that the shit head thinks i want to have sex with him.
my older brother raped me when i was seven and he was seventeen. i talk about it in my comedy and spoken word routine, it's a post therapy thing, no propblem,.
but the dude from the band who were trying to get me by trickerry to sing for them -- a a - class absolute faggot.
even THAT in itself is not ebnough to really make me mad. there's a lotta queers in the industry: it's part of life. but the shithead in question -- the extortionist -- he --
ugh...DEATH..i hate the fucker.
their attitude was straight up punk nazi. they told me about how they hated all other bands, and that they all hated each other, and that that was the only way that you could "make it in the industry."
that shit didn't even work for the pistols. backfired...
INTERLEWD:
The Murder
The known facts are short and few. Nancy Spungen died in the bathroom of room 100 of the Chelsea Hotel West 23rd Street New York. She died from a single stab wound an inch below her navel somewhere between the hours of 4 and 9 O'clock on Wednesday the 12th of October. The alleged murder weapons were found on the blood stained bed, they were clean of both finger prints and blood. There was no money in the hotel room a fact that would later hold some significance.
Later that day Simon John Beverley A.K.A. Sid Vicious was charged with Second degree murder. As to how Sid and Nancy spent their last few hours together is something of a mystery and the truth perhaps will never be known. Here is what we do know.
Sid and Nancy spent part of that tuesday night in the company of two other musicians, one Stiv Bators (since deceased lead singer of the Dead Boys ) and Neon Leon, an unemployed musician who was also a resident at the Chelsea Hotel. That evening all four had been out looking at knifes. Nancy had selected a five inch lock knife and gave it as a present to Sid.
Neon Leon in his statement to the police said that a little after midnight Sid return to his room with two gold records and his leather jacket for him to look after. At about 4.30am Neon received a call from Nancy asking for marijuana.
Another witness a dealer / user called Rockets Redglare made a statement to police saying that he had delivered a small quantity of synthetic morphine to room 100 around 1.30 that morning.
"To tell the truth, at the time it wouldn't have surprised me if he or anyone killed her, she was that obnoxious. When she started up with that incessant whining she was more than the human mind could bear." Chrissie Hynde
Rotten No Irish No Blacks No Dogs
He took several hundred dollars promising to supply more the following day. When he left some time between 4 and 5am that morning Nancy was still alive. When leaving the hotel Redglare says that he saw another dealer, Steve Cincotti arriving. Cincotti statement says he supplied Sid and Nancy with Tuinal and then left six hours later the front desk received a call from Sid asking for an ambulance.
According to police Sid Vicious admitted the murder later that morning. Later still he'd claim to have no recollection of it. In later interviews he claimed to have awoken during the night to see Nancy playing with the knifes. Gouching out he woke later still to find Nancy in the bathroom dying. This was when he called for an ambulance.
-------------------------------------------------------------
why include that?
because i know that story of the sex pistols. that's why i refused to be in a band with what amounted to self hating nazi geeks whose music wasn't THAT good.
they were such venal jerkoffs...musically -- hey -- get this: i knew their drummer from the scene...
punk scenes come and go, and they are prertty wartered down anymore. no one really knows about politics and don't admit it if they do. that's pretty much what happened...
punk's dead/not dead
everybody's got an opinion.
even the dead have opinions. maybe...maybe weir is finally tired of playing cheap gigs for smelly, unwashed kids who are a pale imitation of the diehard acid head dropouts he started playing for. maybe that's why The Grateful Dead are now just called "the Dead" and charge $90 a head to see them even in the towns where they were made famous, immortal...maybe the scene that they came out of is just dead now, compared to the jaon baez and joni mitchell days.
------
when i told them that i couldn't sing with them, i erased the tapes because i saw what they were about.
my old friend who i'd made out with after parties, their hot riot girl drummer, she was rthe kicker for me because i saw what they had done to her mind.
she was a straight up riot as chica\, activist and conscious...but the people she had hooked up with -- as a prominent female drummer she had become sort of locally notorious, not famous like britney or paris, but known in the east coast bar and warehouse scenes...
their nazi geek bullshit had worked on her mind,
and you see it when you know people and they change,become "against themselves".
i erased the tapes.
oh, also, they were fucking plagiarists. song thieves.
the worst! there was no way i was singing for them.
so like venal fucking JERKOFFS they went around the east coast hardcore scene adding b. s. about me to their general singerless b. s.
(ah, he's got no talent. he's a closet queen. he's so and so, he's this, he's that)
to people who didn't know me.
did i give a fuck? you bet i did.
but not in the way that the friggin' guitar player wanted,
because he wanted me in the ass.
no fucking hairy greek disgusting WAY that THAT was happening.
like i said; talking about my experiences as an adult survivor of incest, sexual assault-- that's part of the comedy and spoken word that i do. because i'm straight. but THOSE guys?
(end of part 2)
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