A Spoken Word Video

New youtube video: Spoken Word Piece About The Mass Shooting

Shitty Values At Large

 People may be in a relatively weak position within their communities, as if there is such a thing, and at the same time there are philosophical and pragmatic universals.   Individuals have always needed protection of one sort or other, kicking it off with trogs fending off rival trogs using sticks, woofing forward to the nuclear arms race.  If everything was really hunky dory 'round about WW2,  Hiroshima and Nagasaki might still look like black and white pictures taken in the 1930s.  The latter doesn't matter on this blog entry, because this entry deals with a further  backward fact of life.  One can always pay people to protect them, e.g. body guards, security personnel, goons, ex convicts, gee whiz anyone needing dough and  able to guard you and yours.  Including things you own.

Let's us suppose some fool holds great hope for the future of a pile of dog shit.  He has earned, stolen or inherited great wealth.  Enough to keep a time share unit in Vegas for a lifetime. Maybe the creep won the lottery.  He may be mental, and think his pile is of great value, but he can afford to pay an A-team of professionals to keep his crap safe from thieves, saboteurs, copy cats, stool pigeons, et al.   He is at liberty to take his precautions, even if he is a complete asshole.  If there was such a thing as a free market economy, one could say, " Holy fuck, that asshole is doing nicely for himself.  He has a groovy little spread out in the flats, goes to church, and he's paying a posse to guard shit.  That fellow is a motherfucking pillar of society."

He is a pillar of society.  A bunch of people are on that jerk off's payroll.  Last I heard, that fine motherfucker was in compliance with labor laws, and in parts of East Buttfuck it's legal to taser people for trespassing.   If no one was there to zap thieves with a stun gun, the bastards could rob people blind.  Why, fuck it, it would be damn near obstruction of justice not to do something to people who fuck with your personal garbage.  Thanks for fucking reading.  It's fucking decent of you.

 

here's a project: I'm writing a song, lyrics below, and will work on the tune right here, work in progress...

Over-stretched

it'll hurt worse tomorrow
for now I don't care
it's too platinum
vaulting ten feet in the air
it feels like nitrous oxide
gives you this waxy stare


shiny metal like grannies diamond ring
sun spots flying when you stare deep into those things
 magic buttons go bing bing bing

it might get better in a week
for now I still don't care
minor altercation
rolling down the stairs
it feels like perfect love
everyone's glaring

shiny metal like grannies diamond ring
sun spots flying when you stare deep into those things
magic buttons go bing bing bing

Why bother writing haiku?

Haiku is to prose what chicken wings are to a rack of ribs.  It is smaller, less filling, yet tastes phenomenal and alters perceptions of boredom and ugliness for the short span of time while you are munching it down, or in the case of a poetry reading, listening to sound and content.  There hasn't been a poem written yet that cures acne, while KFC is fucking near famous for causing clogged pores, pimples and blackheads. Yet demand for fried chicken far exceeds demand for anthologies. This is part of a far greater celestial force, best compared to the main stream media, which is turning fucking near everyone into a drooling idiot.  The stars can tell us all facts under the sun, but leave it to us to not read the instructions and fuck everything up completely.

For these reasons and more, I plan to continue, with a small nose-gay of conviction, to compose and present the not-too-fucking-world-shaking media call 'haiku.'  I dumped one in the space directly below this blog entry, on the subject of haiku.  I will be posting more opinions about the humanities, in general, as all media impacts our great and small, grand and hairy lives.  Thanks again for being you and for being here.  You're peachy.

Haiku-a-roo: Why Break Things?

Why Break Things?
by Bruce Reisner


the Ming vase becomes
garbage when it hits the floor
the sound is worth it

Testing voice recognition on the blog

Oh my jeepers goodness I am using voice recognition software again. It's working. I'm talking. Words are shaking onto the paper. I'm going to try to write novels using this voice recognition software. This right here is a test to see if I can use it on the blog directly, and it appears that I can. Willie bully for us all. Thanks for reading this test.