Kingdom Come
J.G. Ballard
The suburbs dream of violence. Asleep in their drowsy villas, sheltered by benevolent shopping malls, they wait patiently for the nightmares that will wake them into a more passionate world...
August 16, 2012
June 7, 2012
Arsehole
ARTAUD DAMAGED.
He is an arsehole.
Let’s be honest.
You screamed,
And he called you a cunt.
He threw a bottle of wine at you.
Or maybe that was me.
I no longer remember.
Once upon a time we swore that no amount
Of alcohol would make us forget.
That place in the park,
Where I went down on you.
In the rain.
It seemed romantic at the time.
But that place is no longer there.
It vanished the moment you cried rape.
So, I called you a cunt, and wasted a good bottle of wine.
But maybe that’s not the point.
We all have regrets,
I just wish that mine weren’t aimed so badly.
That boy you’re with.
Breakfast of Champions
His Favourite. It is hard to adapt to chaos, but it can be done.
I thought Beatrice Keedsler had joined hands with other old-fashioned storytellers to make people believe that life had leading characters, minor characters, significant details, insignificant details, that it had lessons to be learned, tests to be passed, and a beginning, a middle, and an end.
I had become more and more enraged and mystified by the idiot decisions made by my countrymen. And then I had come suddenly to pity them, for I understood how innocent and natural it was for them to behave so abominably, with such abominable results: they were doing their best to live like people invented in story books. This was the reason Americans shot each other so often: It was a convenient literary device for ending short stories and books.
Why were so many Americans treated by their government as though their lives were as disposable as paper facial tissues? Because that was the way authors customarily treated bit-part players in their made-up tales.
Once I understood what was making America such a dangerous, unhappy nation of people who had nothing to do with real life, I resolved to shun storytelling. I would write about life. Every person would be exactly as important as any other. All facts would also be given equal weightiness. Nothing would be left out. Let others bring order to chaos. I would bring chaos to order, instead, which I think I have done.
If all writers would do that, then perhaps citizens not in the literary trades will understand that there is no order in the world around us, that we must adapt ourselves to the requirements of chaos instead.
His Favourite. It is hard to adapt to chaos, but it can be done.
I thought Beatrice Keedsler had joined hands with other old-fashioned storytellers to make people believe that life had leading characters, minor characters, significant details, insignificant details, that it had lessons to be learned, tests to be passed, and a beginning, a middle, and an end.
I had become more and more enraged and mystified by the idiot decisions made by my countrymen. And then I had come suddenly to pity them, for I understood how innocent and natural it was for them to behave so abominably, with such abominable results: they were doing their best to live like people invented in story books. This was the reason Americans shot each other so often: It was a convenient literary device for ending short stories and books.
Why were so many Americans treated by their government as though their lives were as disposable as paper facial tissues? Because that was the way authors customarily treated bit-part players in their made-up tales.
Once I understood what was making America such a dangerous, unhappy nation of people who had nothing to do with real life, I resolved to shun storytelling. I would write about life. Every person would be exactly as important as any other. All facts would also be given equal weightiness. Nothing would be left out. Let others bring order to chaos. I would bring chaos to order, instead, which I think I have done.
If all writers would do that, then perhaps citizens not in the literary trades will understand that there is no order in the world around us, that we must adapt ourselves to the requirements of chaos instead.
June 5, 2012
Leo Tolstoy
What did that show? It showed that he had lived well, but thought badly.
Having then for the first time clearly understood that before every man, and before himself, there lay only suffering, death, and eternal oblivion, he had concluded that to live under such conditions was impossible, that one must either explain life to oneself so that it does not seem to be an evil mockery by some sort of devil, or one must shoot oneself.
But he had done neither the one nor the other, yet he continued to live, think, and feel, had even at that very time got married, experienced many joys, and been happy whenever he was not thinking of the meaning of his life.
What did that show? It showed that he had lived well, but thought badly.
Having then for the first time clearly understood that before every man, and before himself, there lay only suffering, death, and eternal oblivion, he had concluded that to live under such conditions was impossible, that one must either explain life to oneself so that it does not seem to be an evil mockery by some sort of devil, or one must shoot oneself.
But he had done neither the one nor the other, yet he continued to live, think, and feel, had even at that very time got married, experienced many joys, and been happy whenever he was not thinking of the meaning of his life.
May 13, 2012
The Ice Choir
I want you now and always
I want to die,
I want to feel you like the stars behind my eyes.
The force applied,
Fingers pulling from the dark to break my spine.
Feed me to the night, the day wears thin.
Fill me with your air, your blood and sin.
I want you now and always
I'll take the pill,
Be the inheritor to all your psychic will.
I'll get a grip,
I'll be content to drink the sweat from off your wrists.
Skip me to the end and fill me in.
Give me all your air and blood and sin.
I want you now and always
And when the far horizon calls, I only need to shut my ears and not say a thing...
...For flesh exchanged, my blood will sing. Don't go away, i'm reeling from your gold-dust poisoning.
I want you now and always
I want to die,
I want to feel you like the stars behind my eyes.
The force applied,
Fingers pulling from the dark to break my spine.
Feed me to the night, the day wears thin.
Fill me with your air, your blood and sin.
I want you now and always
I'll take the pill,
Be the inheritor to all your psychic will.
I'll get a grip,
I'll be content to drink the sweat from off your wrists.
Skip me to the end and fill me in.
Give me all your air and blood and sin.
I want you now and always
And when the far horizon calls, I only need to shut my ears and not say a thing...
...For flesh exchanged, my blood will sing. Don't go away, i'm reeling from your gold-dust poisoning.
April 29, 2012
Asobi Seksu
Red Sea
14 quiet days
these hours just slept in your place
white sand and a vague
sense of youth
how can i get through
it's a violent truth
that I'm like you
16 lonely hours
no sun or depth
15 dreams of you all alone
but still far from reach
crosses traced in white sand
it's a violent truth
that I'm like you
you said the first time was so perfect
but the rest was all just wrong
you said there too many gone too long
Red Sea
14 quiet days
these hours just slept in your place
white sand and a vague
sense of youth
how can i get through
it's a violent truth
that I'm like you
16 lonely hours
no sun or depth
15 dreams of you all alone
but still far from reach
crosses traced in white sand
it's a violent truth
that I'm like you
you said the first time was so perfect
but the rest was all just wrong
you said there too many gone too long
April 16, 2012
Tracks
Love has it's time
Jack had feld the same, only for me. On the tracks the night before he'd said, 'I fucked up'.
By that he meant that he'd waited too long, that our time had gone by, that all that had been good was gone, that he should have had the courage to end it first. 'Love is exactly like starlight' he'd said. By that he meant that love has it's time, which is not necessarily your time. You have to be big. I think, or old or brave or rich or mad, or something other than what I knew myself and Jack to be, to make love's time your own.
Love has it's time
Jack had feld the same, only for me. On the tracks the night before he'd said, 'I fucked up'.
By that he meant that he'd waited too long, that our time had gone by, that all that had been good was gone, that he should have had the courage to end it first. 'Love is exactly like starlight' he'd said. By that he meant that love has it's time, which is not necessarily your time. You have to be big. I think, or old or brave or rich or mad, or something other than what I knew myself and Jack to be, to make love's time your own.
April 12, 2012
Anthropology of an American Girl
The irony of mourning people who kill themselves is that the rush of love manufactured for the dead did not prevent them from dying in the first place.
Do you think suicide is a tragedy?
No, he stated. It's your life.
Aren't you obligated to people you love?
If you love out of obligation, it's not love. Besides, you're alone from birth.
But you're born to your parents. To your mother.
You don't enter the bond with your mother when you're born, you leave it. Birth is the point of departure from the only real communion you'll ever know. Everything is invention. Your happiness depends on how well your parents handle that. You know, the fact of separation, the fiction of attachment.
So you owe your parents nothing?
He shrugged. I don't. Maybe you do. Most parents don't want the kid or each other. They're just carrying our some brain-dead social functions. They marry because it's time, start a family because its time. They do it for fear of becoming outcasts, fear of acting on an original fucking thought.
How about lost potential?
Lost potential is irrelevant. How can anyone feel cheated out of something they were never entitled to in the first place.
The irony of mourning people who kill themselves is that the rush of love manufactured for the dead did not prevent them from dying in the first place.
Do you think suicide is a tragedy?
No, he stated. It's your life.
Aren't you obligated to people you love?
If you love out of obligation, it's not love. Besides, you're alone from birth.
But you're born to your parents. To your mother.
You don't enter the bond with your mother when you're born, you leave it. Birth is the point of departure from the only real communion you'll ever know. Everything is invention. Your happiness depends on how well your parents handle that. You know, the fact of separation, the fiction of attachment.
So you owe your parents nothing?
He shrugged. I don't. Maybe you do. Most parents don't want the kid or each other. They're just carrying our some brain-dead social functions. They marry because it's time, start a family because its time. They do it for fear of becoming outcasts, fear of acting on an original fucking thought.
How about lost potential?
Lost potential is irrelevant. How can anyone feel cheated out of something they were never entitled to in the first place.
March 28, 2012
Thieves Like Us
I can't sleep with you outside
Maria marie you're on my mind
You took my heart, you took my time
Maria Marie you're in decline
Look in the mirror, see the lines
Maria marie you're as cool as ice
Maria marie it's in your eyes
Maria marie take my advice
Please stop calling me at night
I can't sleep with you outside
I don't want another fight
It's no wonder that you still don't know me
Maria marie you're so unkind
I guess you are no friend of mine
Maria marie you're just a sign
Of days gone past and former times
Maria marie you're on my mind
You took my heart, you took my time
Maria Marie you're as cool as ice
I can't sleep with you outside
Maria marie you're on my mind
You took my heart, you took my time
Maria Marie you're in decline
Look in the mirror, see the lines
Maria marie you're as cool as ice
Maria marie it's in your eyes
Maria marie take my advice
Please stop calling me at night
I can't sleep with you outside
I don't want another fight
It's no wonder that you still don't know me
Maria marie you're so unkind
I guess you are no friend of mine
Maria marie you're just a sign
Of days gone past and former times
Maria marie you're on my mind
You took my heart, you took my time
Maria Marie you're as cool as ice
March 12, 2012
All Those Wasted Miles
Real Estate
Under dormant trees
Under bright lit skies
Mountains of maple leaves
Standing side by side
The phone lines
The street lights
Led me to you
And if you
Just sit tight
I'll be there soon
All those wasted miles
All those aimless drives
Through green aisles
Our careless life style
It was not so unwise
No
I rode right pass
The train tracks on
Ancient as the stone
Blacked out on a bicycle
I made my way back home
The houses were humming
All through the night
And winter was coming
But that was alright
All those wasted miles
All those aimless drives
Through green aisles
Our careless life style
It was not so unwise
No
The phone lines
The street lights
Led me to you
And if you
Just sit tight
I'll be there soon
All those wasted miles
All those aimless drives
Through green aisles
Our careless life style
It was not so unwise
No
Real Estate
Under dormant trees
Under bright lit skies
Mountains of maple leaves
Standing side by side
The phone lines
The street lights
Led me to you
And if you
Just sit tight
I'll be there soon
All those wasted miles
All those aimless drives
Through green aisles
Our careless life style
It was not so unwise
No
I rode right pass
The train tracks on
Ancient as the stone
Blacked out on a bicycle
I made my way back home
The houses were humming
All through the night
And winter was coming
But that was alright
All those wasted miles
All those aimless drives
Through green aisles
Our careless life style
It was not so unwise
No
The phone lines
The street lights
Led me to you
And if you
Just sit tight
I'll be there soon
All those wasted miles
All those aimless drives
Through green aisles
Our careless life style
It was not so unwise
No
February 26, 2012
A Matter of Aesthetics
The Beautiful and the Damned
It is in the twenties that the actual momentum of life begins to slacken, and it is a simple soul indeed to whom as many things are as significant and meaningful at thirty as at ten years before. At thirty an organ-grinder is a more or less a moth eaten man who grinds an organ - and once he was an organ-grinder! The unmistakable stigma of humanity touches all those impersonal and beautiful things that only youth ever grasps in their impersonal glory.
The Beautiful and the Damned
It is in the twenties that the actual momentum of life begins to slacken, and it is a simple soul indeed to whom as many things are as significant and meaningful at thirty as at ten years before. At thirty an organ-grinder is a more or less a moth eaten man who grinds an organ - and once he was an organ-grinder! The unmistakable stigma of humanity touches all those impersonal and beautiful things that only youth ever grasps in their impersonal glory.
February 6, 2012
It so happens that I'm so haphazardous
YoI'm a hot and bothered astronaut, crashing while jacking off
To buffering vids of Asher Roth eating apple sauce
Sent to earth to poke Catholics in the ass with saws
And knock blunt ashes into their caskets and laugh it off
Twist is sicker than mad cattle, in fact I'm off
Sent to earth to poke Catholics in the ass with saws
And knock blunt ashes into their caskets and laugh it off
Twist is sicker than mad cattle, in fact I'm off
Six different liquors with a Prince wig plastered on
Stop screaming, bitch, you shouldn't be that alarmed
That big lips was in the attic ???s with an addict's arm
Earl puts the ass in assassin
And puts the pieces of decomposing bodies in plastic
Puts them in a pan and mixes it up with scat
Then gobbles it up like fat black bitches and catfish
Puts them in a pan and mixes it up with scat
Then gobbles it up like fat black bitches and catfish
It so happens that I'm so haphazardous
I'd puke a piece and put it on a hook and fucking cast the shit
I'm asking that you faggot rap actors take action
And get a hall pass for this class act shit
How the fuck I fit an axe in a satchel?
Slip capsules in her glass, she dizzy rascal
Party staff baffled, asking where her ass go
In my room redefining the meaning of black holes
And go on, suck it up, but hurry, I've got nuts to bust
And butts to fuck and ups to chuck
And sluts to fucking uppercut
Its OF, buttercup, go ahead, fuck with us
Without a doubt a surefire way to get your mother fucked
Ask her for a couple bucks, shove a trumpet up her butt
Play a song, invade her thong, my dick is having guts for lunch
As well as supper, then I'll rummage through a ruptured cunt
Found the mustard, fucking nosy neighbors know that something's up
Whatcha doing? Nothing much, would shout some other stuff
Got to fucking bounce, guess the bouncer's had enough of us
Get up off the pavement, wipe the dirt and vomit off
Dope boys hating, but them faggots is a lot of talk
Cottonsoft pussy, them odd niggas is Molotov cocktails
Fucking toss one in your apartment dawg
Wolf Gang, we ain't barking, naw
Try talking on a blog with your fucking arms cut off
Put on a carpet, watch them get auctioned off
The Ace'll tell Shake's daughter we're sorry, but papa's gone
Bitch
February 5, 2012
Here, in Heaven 2
Elite Gymnastics
You want me to use you
So that you can feel useful
Because that is the only way that you feel love
If I can be truthful
I feel like I'm the one that's being used
Can't you see I love you
Isn't that enough?
Is it okay to go through life being untouchable?
Is it okay to be in love with something dead?
What happens to us if we accept that I'm unfixable?
it's okay it's okay it's okay I didn't mean what I said.
I'm so afraid to tell you
This isn't what I'm used to
But the last thing that you want me to do with you is talk
And this is how I hurt you
By trying so hard not to
Canit you see I love you?
Please let that be enough
Is it okay to go through life being untouchable?
Is it okay to be in love with something dead?
What happens to us if we accept that I'm unfixable?
It's okay it's okay it's okay I didn't mean what I said
Elite Gymnastics
You want me to use you
So that you can feel useful
Because that is the only way that you feel love
If I can be truthful
I feel like I'm the one that's being used
Can't you see I love you
Isn't that enough?
Is it okay to go through life being untouchable?
Is it okay to be in love with something dead?
What happens to us if we accept that I'm unfixable?
it's okay it's okay it's okay I didn't mean what I said.
I'm so afraid to tell you
This isn't what I'm used to
But the last thing that you want me to do with you is talk
And this is how I hurt you
By trying so hard not to
Canit you see I love you?
Please let that be enough
Is it okay to go through life being untouchable?
Is it okay to be in love with something dead?
What happens to us if we accept that I'm unfixable?
It's okay it's okay it's okay I didn't mean what I said
February 2, 2012
(No) Misery
Big Troubles
It’s always such a tragic
It’s always such a shame
Go on and have a laugh
Cause it’s always the same,
And it’s always the same!
And even the days i'm waking up
I’m still asleep!
I just wanna,
I just wanna have some fun!
I just wanna,
I just want some fun for once!
I always play the clown
And all my misery
It’s bringing me down
As far as I can see
As far as you can see
And even the days i'm waking up
I’m still asleep!
I just wanna,
I just wanna have some fun!
I just wanna,
I just want some fun for once!
Big Troubles
It’s always such a tragic
It’s always such a shame
Go on and have a laugh
Cause it’s always the same,
And it’s always the same!
And even the days i'm waking up
I’m still asleep!
I just wanna,
I just wanna have some fun!
I just wanna,
I just want some fun for once!
I always play the clown
And all my misery
It’s bringing me down
As far as I can see
As far as you can see
And even the days i'm waking up
I’m still asleep!
I just wanna,
I just wanna have some fun!
I just wanna,
I just want some fun for once!
January 26, 2012
John Green
The Fault In Our Eyes
There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that’s what everyone else does.
The Fault In Our Eyes
There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that’s what everyone else does.
January 4, 2012
Elite Gymnastics
So close to paradise
how many more times can you
have nights like these?
How many more
how many more times before
whoever you love,
whatever you take,
you won't feel a thing,
and you won't get to be young anymore?
The more that you do this,
the more that you ruin it.
The things that you give up
cannot be returned.
How many more,
how many more times can you
fall in love?
How many more,
how many more times before
deep in your heart,
under it all,
you're totally used up
and you can't even feel it anymore?
January 3, 2012
January 1, 2012
Bright Lights, Big City
Is what I'm looking forward to
'Things happen, people change,' is what Amanda said. For her that covered it. You wanted an explanation, and ending that would assign blame and dish up justice. You considered violence and you considered reconciliation . But what you are left with is a premonition of the way your life will fade behind you, like a book you have read too quickly, leaving a dwindling trail of images and emotions, until all you can remember is a name.
Is what I'm looking forward to
'Things happen, people change,' is what Amanda said. For her that covered it. You wanted an explanation, and ending that would assign blame and dish up justice. You considered violence and you considered reconciliation . But what you are left with is a premonition of the way your life will fade behind you, like a book you have read too quickly, leaving a dwindling trail of images and emotions, until all you can remember is a name.
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