Monday, November 26, 2007

Seasonal Depression




O! God, I am praying for death.

Not for it to come swiftly or slowly,
painlessly or painfully,
but that the promise of its appearance shall never abate. . .
that the hour of its reckoning is upon some distant future fix'd. . .
and I shall no longer fear it when we two meet.

I pray for this, O God, because it is bound to happen anyway.
And by praying and beseeching for that which is destined,
I make a fact into a miracle.
"Blessed Lord, you have granted me death as I have ask'd!"
I offer in supplication before the last beat n' breath.
(If I have not You to believe in, Lord, there is only Death)

O! God, how has this happened?
I am confused, O Lord.
I was so good at being alone until I became alone.
Now even the voices in my head are silent. . .
Now nothing is funny here
where the rain and the snow no longer make me feel romantic.

O! Lord, I once knew the difference
between a businessman and an artist.
And so did the world.
Now it's all muddled.
Your world isn't as clear as it used to be.
I'm trying to be grateful, O Lord, but it's hard
in this world where gratitude has been replaced by grievance.

O! God, I often thought as a child
how wonderful it would be to go insane.
What a colorful respite it would be from the
demystifying strains of dullness and suburban simplicity
emanating from the lips of the vacuous and obtuse,
and radiating unchalleng'd from the cathode ray tube.

But that way is the truth.
That mediocre way of sanity always triumphs.
I am on the losing end of the losers.
By Your gospel, that would make me a winner.

O! Lord, can you tell me
is this a crossroads or a dead end?
Because I don't feel much like moving.
Maybe I would if I could see once again. (or You could see for me,
looking ahead down that road You have designed)

O! Lord, how about a hint?
I promise not to cynically present Your answer
as my own clairvoyancy, but as Your gift in my hour of need.
A quick fix, a quick boost,
propelling me back into the world of the living. (or the barely living)

How much steam heat can be generated on principles alone?
And do I even have any left to stoke the fire?

O! God, teach me how to play the game
and to play it well.
And teach it to me soon
so that I may join their ranks
while I still have a pulse.

Monday, November 19, 2007

If you are going through hell, keep going.




"If you are going through hell, keep going."

"The farther backward. . ."


"The farther backward you can look, the farther forward you can see."

"The empires of the future. . ."


"The empires of the future are the empires of the mind."

"Socialism. . ."


"Socialism is a philosophy of failure, the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy. Its inherent virtue is the equal sharing of misery."

"Perhaps it is better. . ."


"Perhaps it is better to be irresponsible and right, than to be responsible and wrong."

"Nothing in life. . ."


"Nothing in life is so exhilarating as to be shot at without result."

"Kites and Crimes"


"Kites rise high AGAINST the wind--not with it."



"No crime is so great as daring to excel."

"It has been said. . ."


"It has been said that democracy is the worst form of government except all the others that have been tried."

"Although prepared for martyrdom. . ."



"Although prepared for martyrdom, I prefer that it be postponed."

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

The Down-N-Dirty Hotel




(BOUNCY, COUNTRY BEAT, SUNG WITH A LOUD BARITONE TWANG)

Let me tell you 'bout a place
I'm sure you're gonna love.
It's the prettiest place around,
but you better wear some gloves.
Ain't nobody gonna tell me
what is wrong and what is right
cause I been working hard all day
and I plan to work hard all night

At the Down-N-Dirty Hotel,
you'll just love the smell.
At the Down-N-Dirty Hotel,
where all of Satan's children dwell.

They got a lot of little Asian girls
who will do what you tell 'em to do.
They can spank you for a hundred bucks
and then tinkle in your shoes.
A hundred more and you can get a whore
who's a sadomasochistic queen.
I got a life with an ordinary wife,
but this place is supreme!


At the Down-N-Dirty Hotel,
you'll just love the smell.
At the Down-N-Dirty Hotel,
where all of Satan's children dwell.





I come at 12, then I cum at 6
when the sun begins to rise.
Then it's homeward bound from there
with the cobwebs in my eyes.
The wife's gonna kill me when she finds out
that I been to this place again
and I spent all of the paycheck
on the tasty fruits of sin

At the Down-N-Dirty Hotel,
you'll just love the smell.
At the Down-N-Dirty Hotel,
where all of Satan's children dwell.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

HAPPY (BELATED) ARMISTICE DAY!!!!!!



SORRY THIS IS LATE!


I HOPE YOU GUYS ARE HAVING A WONDERFUL ARMISTICE DAY! (AND I HOPE YOU GUYS AREN'T STILL DOING WORLD WAR I! COME ON, RELAX AND CELEBRATE!) WE'RE HAVING KARAOKE AND CAPITULATION AT MY PLACE!!!!

SERIOUSLY, IF YOU GET THIS BEFORE 1919 TRY AND MAKE IT DOWN TO VERSAILLES! GERMANY'S SUPPOSED TO COME OVER AND SURRENDER A LITTLE BIT LATER! (WE BOUGHT A CAKE SHAPED LIKE A TREATY!)

(DON'T TELL THEM, IT'S A SURPRISE!)

THE FRENCH ARE GONNA BE HERE, TOO! (THEY KINDA HAVE TO--IT IS THEIR PARTY, AFTER ALL! :))

(NO, THAT ISN'T A DOUBLE-SMILE! IT'S JUST THE END PARENTHESIS!)

lol:)

AND DON'T FORGET--WOODROW WILSON LOVES CHEX MIX AND MERLOT! :)

GO GIRLFRIEND! RAISE THE ROOF! FUCK THE KAISER!