| "blame the economy" |
[Feb. 27th, 2009|12:56 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | coffee shop | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Tom Waits - All Stripped Down | ] |
i am in a coffee shop right now
filled with people
and i think they have all lost their souls
because the guy had his 2-3 year old kid
and lifted him
to be flying like super man
going up and down
and flew him out
the kid was having a great time
and i was the only one who laughed
the only one who even smiled. |
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| An Open Letter to the Obama Team |
[Nov. 10th, 2008|10:14 am] |
This is a quick effort but I felt the need to try and get in touch with the Obama team. I have been a supporter of his since I met him at a dinner out here in California during his Congressional race.
I want to congratulate President Elect Obama on the stunning victory. It moved me to actually believe that anyone, no matter of their ethnic origin, can become president. It is a new day for America.
I feel that while he is creating his team and cabinet that there is a need to explore creating a new cabinet position whose sole responsibility is improving the sustainability, and the practices that entails, in the united states. This position would set standards for improvement for states down to local municipalities. It would teach constituents practices for energy and waste efficiency and try and find ways to encourage sustainability and make it more affordable.
It is the right time to start thinking about this, if the Obama team hits the ground running with this and forms this position in week one, imagine what that position would be able to do in a year or two.
Thank You,
Andrew Kornblatt |
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| FYI |
[Nov. 2nd, 2008|02:19 pm] |
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Wall-E is like the cutest movie ever. |
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| ok |
[Aug. 13th, 2008|12:23 pm] |
for reasons not to be going into here,
I am going to be making this journal mainly friends only,
comment to be added. |
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| crap |
[Aug. 8th, 2008|04:22 pm] |
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i was manning the smoker at this bbq and i literally just singed off half of my hair including my eyebrows and eyelashes. |
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| America - Allen Ginsberg, Berkeley, January 17, 1956 |
[Aug. 8th, 2008|11:37 am] |
America I've given you all and now I'm nothing.
America two dollars and twentyseven cents January 17, 1956.
I can't stand my own mind
.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb.
I don't feel good don't bother me.
I won't write my poem till I'm in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I'm sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I
need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not
the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don't think he'll come back
it's sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical
joke?
I'm trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I'm doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven't read the newspapers for months, everyday
somebody goes on trial for murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid
I'm not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses
in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there's going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I'm perfectly right.
I won't say the Lord's Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven't told you what you did to Uncle
Max after he came over from Russia.
I'm addressing you.
Are you going to let your emotional life be run by
Time Magazine?
I'm obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner
candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It's always telling me about responsibility. Business-
men are serious. Movie producers are serious.
Everybody's serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.
Asia is rising against me.
I haven't got a chinaman's chance.
I'd better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of
marijuana millions of genitals an unpublishable
private literature that goes 1400 miles an hour
and twenty-five-thousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of
underprivileged who live in my flowerpots
under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers
is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that
I'm a Catholic.
America how can I write a holy litany in your silly
mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as
individual as his automobiles more so they're
all different sexes.
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500
down on your old strophe
America free Tom Mooney
America save the Spanish Loyalists
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven momma took me to Com-
munist Cell meetings they sold us garbanzos a
handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the
speeches were free everybody was angelic and
sentimental about the workers it was all so sin-
cere you have no idea what a good thing the
party was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand
old man a real mensch Mother Bloor made me
cry I once saw Israel Amter plain. Everybody
must have been a spy.
America you don't really want to go to war.
America it's them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen.
And them Russians.
The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia's power
mad. She wants to take our cars from out our
garages.
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Readers'
Digest. Her wants our auto plants in Siberia.
Him big bureaucracy running our fillingsta tions.
That no good. Ugh. Him make Indians learn read.
Him need big black niggers. Hah. Her make us
all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in
the television set.
America is this correct?
I'd better get right down to the job.
It's true I don't want to join the Army or turn lathes
in precision parts factories, I'm nearsighted and
psychopathic anyway.
America I'm putting my queer shoulder to the wheel. |
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| your train's in the sand |
[Aug. 7th, 2008|07:37 am] |
| [ | music |
| | beck - ranshackle | ] |
You've been so long
Your blind eyes are gone
Your old bones are on their own
So take off your coat
Put a song in your throat
Let the dead-beats pound all around
We will go
Nowhere we know
We don't have to talk at all
Hand me downs
Flypaper towns
Stuck together
One and all
The bargains you drive
Buckets and bags
And all your belongings
Your train's in the sand
Ramshackle land
Let the rats watch the races
We will go
Nowhere we know
'Til we find our one and all
Hand me downs
Flypaper towns
Stuck together
One and all
Praises get spent
Your trick face is bent
Pigsties and prizes
'Cause there's no kind of welt
You're soothing yourself
You leave yourself behind
We will go
Nowhere we know
'Til we find our one and all
Your hand me downs
Flypaper towns
Stuck together |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 6th, 2008|07:49 pm] |
once again I am claimed by the Tarpeian Rock
and am disappointed.. |
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| for the first time in a long time |
[Aug. 3rd, 2008|01:15 pm] |
i found her number again and called her
left a short message
she called herself "[redacted]"
she used to hate that name.
not really sure why i did it. |
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kornleaf's journal