The Will to Shower, notes to myself

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http://reading.cornell.edu/prior_readings.cfm

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Guns, Germs and Steel

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What has changed since I graduated high school fifty years ago
What scientific truths have fallen by the way
Pre-Cambrian life

http://genome6.cu-genome.org/andrey/GouldComment.pdf

http://www.nybooks.com/articles/1151

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/stor ... Id=5007508

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Jesus himself, especially in the Gospel of Luke, is a flaming feminist, at least for his time. The only person who bests Jesus in an argument is a woman – the Syrophoenician woman who demonstrates to him that his racist, Jews-only policy was inhumane. In all of the Gospels, the male disciples are portrayed as witless dunderheads, and all of them – not just Judas – betrayed Jesus. Only the women disciples showed up at the crucifixion. Christianity was designed to be a faith in which all were equal.

http://kristof.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/0 ... and-women/

[SadLuckDame]

I agree...religion trashes women. I guess I think it's an interpretation issue myself, so I read it how I see fit for myself personally. It has to be done on a personal level I think in order to avoid what religion would do with it and how they'd change it up and disease minds.

My mother stood strong under great criticisms in a holy roller pentecostal church when we were young. I remember how wicked they'd treated her. She wore make-up and jeans, plus cut her hair, and they saw demons in her because of it. In us children too, because she put thick tights on us in the winter--they said they were practically jeans themselves and ridiculed her for her too worldly mannerisms. And it was the women in the church who were aggressive with her over these things. I think the men winked at her, honestly.

But, she stood her ground, it was something I've been proud of her for. Unusual for her very submissive behavior, which almost all women in my family were raised to be submissive.

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Trying to find something to pray too.
Trying to find some compassion for my sister and her son and her husband and myself.

[SadLuckDame]

I'll pray
be well u.

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Nothing sinister going on in the supreme court.

I don’t think there are any sinister persons deliberately trying to rob people of their freedom. But I do think, first of all, that there are a number of impersonal forces which are pushing in the direction of less and less freedom, and I also think that there are a number of technological devices which anybody who wishes to use can use to accelerate this process of going away from freedom, of imposing control."

"I mean, what I feel very strongly is that we mustn’t be caught by surprise by our own advancing technology. This has happened again and again in history with technology’s advance and this changes social condition, and suddenly people have found themselves in a situation which they didn’t foresee and doing all sorts of things they really didn’t want to do."

"That if you want to preserve your power indefinitely, you have to get the consent of the ruled, and this they will do partly by drugs as I foresaw in "Brave New World," partly by these new techniques of propaganda. They will do it by bypassing the sort of rational side of man and appealing to his subconscious and his deeper emotions, and his physiology even, and so making him actually love his slavery. I mean, I think, this is the danger that actually people may be, in some ways, happy under the new regime, but that they will be happy in situations where they oughtn’t to be happy."

>"Democracies are based on the proposition that power is very dangerous and that it is extremely important not to let any one man or any one small group have too much power for too long a time."






http://www.matrixmasters.net/blogs/?p=1466

[SadLuckDame]

"That if you want to preserve your power indefinitely, you have to get the consent of the ruled, and this they will do partly by drugs as I foresaw in "Brave New World," partly by these new techniques of propaganda. They will do it by bypassing the sort of rational side of man and appealing to his subconscious and his deeper emotions, and his physiology even, and so making him actually love his slavery. I mean, I think, this is the danger that actually people may be, in some ways, happy under the new regime, but that they will be happy in situations where they oughtn’t to be happy."

I know it, happens already, beginning to be more noticeable.
A scary condition.
I'd wanted privacy, but because I'd already not had it where I'd wanted it, I'd succumbed to technology, embraced it even, even though it was on my list of biggest paranoias.

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Did you read the recent Poet's Eye by Clay?

http://www.studioeight.tv/phpbb/viewtopic.php?t=18024

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The Long Road Turns to Joy

Thich Nhat Hanh

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The skies in the fall of 1883 became weirdly changed. The moon turned blue, or sometimes green. Firefighters in New York and elsewhere thought they saw distant fires, caused by clouds of boiling dust. The vivid ash-tinged sunsets, and the post-sunset horizon rainbows of purple and passion fruit and salmon-red, were said to be the most memorable.

Painters in particular did their best to capture what they saw. An obscure Londoner named William Ascroft, astonished by the nightly light show along the Thames, turned out a watercolor every 10 minutes, night after night, working like a human camera. More than 500 Krakatoa paintings survive him. “Blood afterglow,” he jotted down on one canvas, noting the magic done by refractive crystals of dust; “Amber afterglow,” on another.

Grander artists, like Frederic Church of the Hudson River School, were spurred to action too. In December, four months after the Javanese blast, Church hurried up from Olana, his Moorish castle near Poughkeepsie, to Lake Ontario, and one perfect evening caught the vivid crepuscular purples over the ice on Chaumont Bay, knowing full well — as science already did — that it was a volcano 10,000 miles away that had painted the sky for him.

And one even more famous painting speaks of Krakatoa as well: recent research suggests that Edvard Munch a decade later painted “The Scream” while remembering a night in Oslo that had been much affected by the volcanic dust. Indeed, the climatic records show that the swirling orange skies behind the terror-stricken face match perfectly those recorded that winter in southern Norway.

A Tale of Two Volcanoes

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Bookmark these links

I want to get out of here too
This suburban sprawl that blots out the stars
At least
I got this little window on the world here to stare into
To take me away
For some reason I am thinking about Ty Cobb as I write this
How the thoughts entangle as I write
I love how you polish and re-polish your prosetry
Like gems.
Now Gertrude Stein steps up to bat
She was talking about “Ohio” by the Prentenders
When she wrote “There is no there…”
Reminiscing about “The Gone World”
http://www.studioeight.tv/phpbb/viewtopic.php?t=18587

the entangled universe

In a very real sense, no person is alone, no man is an island. We are not isolated atoms, each jostling and competing against the rest in a Darwinian struggle for survival of the fittest. Instead each of us is supported and constituted, ultimately, by all there is in the universe. We are at home in the universe. In this entangled universe we cannot do violence to our fellow human beings or our fellow inhabitants of the Earth without doing violence to ourselves. And the most effective way to benefit oneself may be to benefit others.
Each of us has the waves of every other organism entangled within our own make-up ... each of us is supported and constituted, ultimately, by all there is in the universe
Most of all we are not impotent observers outside nature, subject to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Instead we are participants in the creation drama that is constantly unfolding. We are constantly co-creating and re-creating ourselves and other organism in the universe, shaping our common futures, making our dreams come true, and realizing our potentials and our ideals.
http://www.ceptualinstitute.com/genre/h ... angled.htm

Enough for me the mystery of the eternity of life, and the inkling of the marvelous structure of reality. There is in this neither a will nor a goal, nor a must, but only sheer being.

http://www.pantheism.net/paul/einstein.htm

Exotic matter
http://www.nature.com/nature/supplement ... swodQHTkIg

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http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&defl ... d=0CBMQkAE

Line Editing in 10 Easy Steps

http://www.deepgenre.com/wordpress/craft/line-editing/

Still to this day they haunt me but not as much except for the the occasional dream when I wake up dripping wet with sweat. The air conditioner turned down to zero.

That sentence is wrong in so many ways. But most of all it is not true.

I hardly ever dream of women any more and even when I did I never woke dripping with sweat.

In twenty years the US of A will be one huge flea market from sea to shining sea.

Out yesterday in throngs of people with my sister and niece our little table full of stuff. They had a good time my sister and niece. At one point I backed off and saw the endless lines of people passing by, reminded me of my lost dreams, so many people what were they looking for, all the young Americans, and old and little baby Americans, and strollers, and wheel chairs and walkers, throngs masses and multitudes, most of them carrying little plastic aquariums with tiny little turtles in them, it was a good day for the turtle sellers.

I been interested in the theology of money. Our protestant work ethic, and filthy lucre.

I am proud as punch to be an American
considering what the alternative would have been if tinker jack had not decided to send his daughter to America.

image source
>link here

Tonopah Joe's & Alice's

No it is not Tonapah Nevada
Nothing as beautiful as "the real desert"

Uncanny, coming into that desolation
the broken concrete, trash and detritus of human existence
and then that bar, so dark, the dead indian on the pool table.

staging the savage god

strange computer tricks to night

I don't think I can deal with cyber weirdness too

This is weird enough with out silicon spooks

I forget how you would say it if you were an anthropologist.
But that truck stop parking lot in at Tonopah Joe's and Alice's was like a revelation. A crack in the box I was in.
Like now with this compulsive scribbling, typing, After all these years of ego trips
it doesn't matter anymore
aspiring writer
I can live with that.

Line edits and spontaneous revisions

I saw my self struggling with this compulsion, and after forty years of abortive efforts and "abortions of originality, I have decided to get serious about this.
Going to get something published somewhere, hopefully someplace with low production values. As I go kicking and screaming into into my life as an aspiring writer.

I Saw Myself

I saw myself
a ring of bone
in the clear stream
of all of it

and vowed
always to be open to it
that all of it
might flow through

and then heard
"ring of bone" where
ring is what a

bell does

Lew Welch

strange computer tricks to night
I don't think I can deal with cyber weirdness too

This is weird enough with out silicon spooks

Grotesque text-boxes.

Space distorted, the cracks in the walls of my enculturated box fell, I could see to the horizon in all 360 of my field of visual sensation. trippy and it lasted so long to this day. So strangely drawn to my phobias.


But my will to shower is strong. The meat machine succumbs to it at last. Existence is only hunger, thirst, sex, and the compulsion to repeat.

Sex
You ever feel like you are swimming against the current in a river of molasses?
I heard a comparative embryology professor say that for the spermatozoa to reach the ovum is comparable to a man swimming through 14 miles of molasses. Yeah I know what I want, something to do like this compulsive typing while I try not to think about sex twenty four hours a day.

And when I am not thinking of sex i am thinking about food, and when I am not thinking about food i am thinking abot smoking and when I am not thinking about that I am thinking about Egypt.

[stilltrucking]

I wish I she was my friend, but I may never be able to listen to California Girls again.

A couple of weeks ago, I was at a bar with writer/poet Jennifer L. Knox, when the subject of the Beach Boys came up. I love them, she absolutely hates them. She did, however, write some lyrics for a proposed mock-Beach Boys song. I couldn’t resist putting them to music. Originally, I wanted to make it an uptempo number, but I settled on a ballad.



Girls In My Trunk (J. Knox)

Fuck yeah I gotta some girls
in the trunk of my car
and I'm gonna drive around
gonna drive real far

I've got girls (girls-girls, I got some girls)
girls in my trunk (trunk-trunk, girls in my trunk)

(repeat)

Oh I love to call 'em whores
and bitches and sluts
and I know from now
they're gonna shut the fuck up

I've got girls (girls-girls, I got some girls)
girls in my trunk (trunk-trunk, girls in my trunk)

(repeat)
http://www.bakedziti.net/?p=58