Salvation Coming?

The World Goes On
I hate all this, I must admit-- There's no way of knowing When I'll stop caring or start Or when it'll all be fixed Or when it may end Or if it ever will move on And be like the second coming of anything for anyone.

Intelligent ArtistVH McKenzie

She's Been Here Before
Check this out! You'll like what she likes! A Night At The Museum.

Conclusion I'm Reaching

I should be returned and redeemed like an old fashioned Coke bottle.

Justice for the Supreme Court?

Glad the Sotomayor "trial" is over. If all the whiners were at least innocent of such prejudices as they declare that judges ought to be, maybe it would be tolerable, but politicians make a big stink about how judges should be as clean as the driven snow when they themselves have hearts as black as Justice Thomas and they blacken everything they touch like some careless roughneck from the Texas oil fields! I don't think I recall much merit about the "non-prejudice" or "non-party-affiliation" of the Supreme Court that appointed George Bush as President. I'm afraid that bit of justice entirely escaped me! They had the Power and they used it; no further discussion! That's how it usually works, isn't it? Judges are people and people are knaves--if she didn't "assassinate" Micheal Jackson or smother any of the Nancy Grace Sensation Babies, just shut up and get on with it!!!

Five?

I wonder if five is a magic number (or a cursed one)? These days it seems to me that about half the people who've been on my "Intelligent Blogs" list at some point started out so eager and energetic that some of them wrote, not only daily, but every five hours. These days, the same people have gotten to where they are more likely to write every five days or five weeks. I now assume that the ones who haven't written for five months don't much plan to write in their blog again. All these people were important constituents of my "world" for the past five (?!) years, though, and it feels very strange now. Many are gone, but even those who remain are changed. Some of us are like cadavers--not all the changes are good. Even though we keep the blog looking alive, I realize that it may just be rolling downhill. Lately I have tried hard to find some new blogs that are as fascinating as the old ones were, but so far I've failed. I'll have to try harder. There's bound to be some, so it's probably my shortcoming that I do not recognize them when they flit past! I am probably wearing out, like that old Tin Man from "The Wizard of Oz". If only Judy Garland would come along in cute little pig-tails and give me a brain, a heart, and a terrific damn hard-on, I'd be all set!

George Sodini--Mr. Nobody

You read about madmen who shoot up their gym or school or whatever, then off themselves, and you wonder why they didn't just cut to the chase. If it's a mental defect to contemplate suicide, I think it's even more so to want to kill others first, especially if it's strangers that you intend to kill. Thinking about George Sodini's sick sad bio that's been revealed so far, though, what else could he have done? Everyone was a stranger to a pitiful loser like him--that's all he could have killed! If Society were a living consciousness--which it's not--I guess you could say that it really fucked George up. Anyway, he wasn't the first one and won't be the last one who flips out. Sodini talks mean about his mother in his diary, but she must not have been very tough or she'd have strangled him in his cradle! Stupid woman.

Let Everything Be

Don't worry, don't cry, Don't ever change-- But stay out of range. Let everything be itself, Especially you and me. Don't say too much or hear too much Or complain because we can't behave. I swear I'm often just acting or reacting And everyone's a target, Including you and me, until we're dead.

Poetic Conceit

This is all either wild or pretentious fiction--except the parts that are true.

Politics

Fiorello La Guardia: "There is no Democratic or Republican way of cleaning the streets."

Fiorello La Guardia
(12/11/1882 – 09/20/1947)
New York mayor

Onward through Death

The Flesh
Dead to the world, Living in sin without an accomplice. And, oh, how wretched a result All these evil thoughts are producing All around and in you. It's provoking to one and all. How far will the flesh fall Before it gets well or leaves town without you?