dave, sing your zirin song

jack and jill scott went up a lauryn hill, and then wrote the port heron statement. the signing of this revolutionary statement was televised live but my dead hands had trouble changing the station. so i danced the charlton with michael moore until i got sicko to my stomach. moses i shouln't have done it, but he should just leave me malone. i karled him up and told him that, but he said don't give me that jazz. instead, face the music, and if you can't afford to live in this country, get a house somewhere else, miles away. this may be a blue note, but i'm not in this for the prestige, for i would rather chill down by the riverside and keepnews to myself. ahmet a nice man by the bay, but he didn't otis me. if i could get a redding on his feelings, it would do wonders, woman, for my soul. but, it seems i will have to foot the bill of frustration, as d feet nears, and i get socked by the punch that is life. choose life, your mother did. hitler's mother chose life too, but she is usually not a poster child for the anti-abortion crowd. i am a bore, so shun me. if i marry, my mother in law will say i am not losing a daughter, im gaining a shun. i am so poor, i can't even pay a ten, shun.
g-d, what am i doing? what kind of a weigh is this to pound your eyes, deer blog reader? do you prey for me to quit this wicked game, dorothy, and to kansas every new kid on the block to vote for kucinich? i tell them to eat their kucinich so they can grow strong every weak, but they would rather watch dorris day movies, or sit on a rock by the hudson river as they think of helen way of troy. yes, i suppose they way their options, for life is helen earth. sometimes, astaire at them gingerly, and my rodgers grows hard, and i feel that i am in havens like richard, and my heart beats so that i can hardly speak low when i speak to courtney love. anyhere i hang my hate is home, though hate is not a family value. we are family, i've got all my sisters and me. once, i had assist, but i passed on the operation. instead, i went to a holistic healer who told me the concept of illness is all in my head, which i should go out of a little even if it hurts so bad. that night, i cried tears on my pillow and begged my doctor to take me back, but alas, i was on the outside looking in, as i could not get another appointment for 3 weeks because sarah was ahead of me, and though i tried to be stern and though i insisted on phillying in the nurse with my trouble, no one would sea me. i cried a river over this to lee, who was tender and pressleyed me to snap out of it. quitters never ed wynn and ed wynners never quit, he told me. oz see what you mean, but i'm a jew, d, i replied, and i ed wood dan rather nick my knee running through a garland of red roses than look like a stern joe, smoking a philly on the block with some new kid named jason. for, you see, i don't want to be trapped in a box, cause that way you can end up in an ali, tossed aside like a piece of clay, cause this is a gene old world to try to live in by yourself, and i take my hattie off to anyone who can wind this wicked race. man, i've got to get holmes and fly away like a bird to my woman who i love so dear, but it seems their is no magic in my dick johnson, so i turn turn turn like a byrd to a soporno, and end up caught between a rock and a hard place.
when will the readers mob my blog? i would kill for a few comments, and i will keep shooting posts until i get them. maybe if i die the color of my screen, people will raven about it and the sonny will shine on me once again, for i am a white on white man, polka man. i played a game of polka last night and had a pint of gin with romney. if i get my mitts on him again, i'll take his money, for the mormon i play him, the better i will do. but it may not be in the cards, for he seemed to have quite a chip on his shoulder when i told him i wouldn't do a load of laundry for him. i hope we can wipe the slate clean and make a brake from playing cards and listening to vikki talk about her carr, for romney, me and gerald can't a ford these nights on the town. there is too much on my plate, what with the dish network, listening to the platters, sam cooke, and hanging out with bob, a chef who gives me pizza mind and connects me with my pasta. that last sentence was a lie. food me once, shame on me, food me twice, shame on you. you've got that magic touch, johnson, and i'm tellin you the truth, williams. i wouldn't lie to you for i am not a great pretender, and smoke gets in my eyes everytime i think of you. maybe i will sing a different tune later, so tune in for what this looney tune has to say. don't duck out on me. keep reading. don't become a pig and work for the state, don't cop a plea, don't steal a little love, and don't rob, ok williams? hey, this is no laughing matter, so stand up and speak truth to tyrone power. don't bogart, rather, keep it reel. im not ryan robert, hang in there, for where their is an esther williams their is a way. ceasar built a sidy on a hill, but alas, it is time for me to climb down from my pedestal and go back to "work"
and death returns.
onward to 2:35

keep your ion on the prize, and remember that g-d created atom and eve ensler, not atom and steve carell

just got out of science class, which is taught by miss juo, pronounced jew-ohh. her first name is jazzmin, a typical chinese name. it seems her parentis, who were christian, hated jazz, which they referred to as "the music of the devil." so, to spite them, she calls herself jazzmin. this story is george bushit. her name is jazzmin though. but, what is in a name? why, letters of course, with the first letter in caps. i thought i wood shoot that line at you. did it nick you? well, go homo then and get some ice, baby. then eat the gillis from the fish and remember that g-d created adam and eve, not adam and steve.
question...if g-d did not create adam and steve, why are there so many homosexuals running around? and not just running around, for they are walking, taking the bus, and driving as well. even marvin is gaye. once i found him making out with another mann, my uncle thomas. i caught them in the act three scene five, and exclaimed "what's going on?" isaiah, it was one of the strangest things i've seen this side of knick wood. at the end, they smoked a fag.
i was in new york last year. i got a keach at a dalai, and then ate lama chops. i put it in on my credit card bill, which won't withers away, no matter how much i pay. but you probably don't have much interest in this, do you? perhaps i should keep these lines to a minimum, and only use them about 5% of the time, for if i keep wasting time with these big puns, i will probably get crushed and mortage my future. but sadly, i can't get past them, so i hope you will accept them as a present from me to you.
math is next. what is pie? 3.14. halle said it has berries in it. i'm nuts about her. when i see her, i am going to give her a beer hug. oh, you can wine about these gags if you want, but i can sink j lower. i have only begun to fight fight fight it with all of your might. billy may have arranged that tune for sinatra, and while you can dance around this if you want, i am in the dark and i hope to find the light switch just in time to sea my carribean queen of denial.
i cry a river over you. yes, i know you think i bitch and joan too much, butt it's not easy always being at the end of my rope. i tried to eat from the tree of knowledge and got hung up on whether god exists. i decided he exists, but that he only works part time. ahh, he is shifty.
what will become of me? i suppose i will rot. you've got to hold on to what you rot. will jennifer send me a garland of red roses, or will she be stern, and remember what i stiff i am? if i only had the will to carry on. i was gonna spring my will on you, but i didn't know who to leaf my things to after i fall. i took the fall for my friend jonathan last winters when he stole a kiss from 108 different girls who didn't appreciate it. i took the rape for him, and put an oral reaf around roberts, who was caught robin a store. i came to her aide when she stole a para pants in brookline. she must have been high at the time. well, i suppose this blog has not developed in a professional manor. so i will have to live out my life with dreams of yesterday, even though i can't stop loving courtney, who i played with in the sanders once, but that was once upon a time, very long ago. once upon a virgil hill, i sat beneath the tree rollins of knowledge with sonny hill in a park in philly, and we wilted under the sun, thinking of the 20,000 girls that got away, particularly judy, a girl who was always chasing a sale at rainbows over in downtown. i don't know why i am telloing you this, for there are so many gaps in this tail that i probably should just butt out and bring this boring ass story to an end. that would be the donkey to my success. ohh, if i could only stop horsing around.
well, i suppose i shouldn't harpo on the past. in any case, my duck soup and bananas are ready, so i am gonna go. take this blog and run.
see ya

red sox win world serious

now the world can b. free. i spoke to every manny i could and celebrated with the kool gang that dropped a bomb on the gap during the wto protests. i love being on this party train with this band of players, heading toward lowell, ma. with a mike in my hand, singing the praises of all the crisp victories while lou goes and does his own thing. it is a brand new thing, but if that is his bag, i am not gonna get brown about it or fall into a francoma. that sentence could have had a coma. death to commas! comma here, i want to tell you something! will you satisfy me, or will clark you be a tiz, sonny? for i am david, and with a nancy stone in my learned hand, i can slay anyone in any ali. cey what you will ron, but with a hundred ezra pounds of slay, i will create from my cold hands, a new world. i will climb every rockies mountain come helton or high waters, for each day will be a holliday and i will get off the matt, dustin myself off, and start all over again.
silberg informed me in our last conversation of some of the high lights of his waking existence. (he left out all dreams, including the dream of necking with the virgin mary)
silberg's great sport memories
the red sox coming from 3-0 down to beat the yankees and win in 04
holyfield beating tyson in their first fight
the nets beating the celtics to go to the finals in 02

silberg's book list
blum's "rogue state" and "killing hope" ( not bob)
zinn's "people's history of the u.s." and "declarations of independence"
trumbo's "johnny got his gun"
wright's "black boy"
brown's "manchild in the promised land"
twain's "war prayer"
thoreau's "essay on civil disobedience"
douglass's "4th of july speech"

film list

nights of cabiria
la strada
the hustler
12 angry men
cool hand luke
one flew over the coco crisp nest (sorry, sox on the brain. brain he says) that joke was kesey, like taking candy from glen big baby davis, and if i ken tell a joke like that, you can to.
time out
human resources
mondays in the sun

he would do a music list, but he can't tony naro it down. cyborg is straight but he is not naro, and for that, he lionel richly deserves a tony award. i got sick once, and had to be put in a hospital award, but i didn't have jack bennyfits and it seemed that there was no bob hope that i would be able to pay the bill for the work the doctor named george did on my burns. he wouldn't even gleason to my story, and he told me where there is a wilson there is a helen way to pay the cost. arica said the same thing. at last, i can settle down to watch solid gold with mike and other jews without money. if they asked me i could right a wrong. strike that from the record, eugene, for i'll walk alone, because i don't have the 4 balls necessary to get a free pass on this earth. everytime i make a movie, i don't follow threw and i get downs. you are probably getting a kick out of this, so why don't you hail mary so she can hear it too? mary knows the score. i just wanted to point out the fact that she is goal oriented and she is game to try anything. ever since she has turned over a new leaf, she has stopped her fall. now, she springs into action like her sun, criss, who got cross with a monk once, but now resides in the u.s. with a network of michael nunns in lowell, ma, along with karl malden, carl everett, angelo lynn, and darryl boston. i hung out with them once during a night at the roxbury listening to elvis sing in the ghetto. later, they traveled to houston but i was too much of a cissy to fly in the air plane. you can bettis i would have taken the bus to pittsburgh, where, to be frank, i once attempted to steel a little love, and ended up getting caught, for which i was placed on a cot in a barrack. i should have stood patrick and watched guys and devals on tv, which i heared obamad on broadway, but instead i drifted away into a life of crime.
i will write johnny moore later. i don't mean to be rudy, but i'm done.
peace

today

today was professional development day at my high school. all staff, including paraprofessionals (the chairman's category) needed to register for "classes" over the internet. my name was not in the system, even though i have worked at the school for three years, so i missed the deadline for registration. luckily the teacher i work with also had no group, so she ended up running a workshop for a few "paras" (not people, but "paras") who also had no where else to go. essentially, we masturbated for six hours, as we were afraid to leave early for fear of being "caught" by snooping administrators.
after being shown how to take attendance and iep's (quick...individualized education program. it used to be plan, but program has three more letters and one more syllable) we had the rest of the day to sit around to swap stories, ie, make fun of the students without the students being around to defend themselves. this is one of the main perks to my gig. oh yeah, and half my day is free and it's only a 30 hour work week. the salary is tough to live on, but i don't need much. an orgasm once in a while, that picture of eric dolphy with his bass clarinet, the red sox, the office every thursday, and i am just able to keep from going under.
yes, those stories we tossed around today. here are a few.
oman (remember him?) enters biology class. i ask him if he has his homework. he says no. i ask why. he says i wasn't home. britney is asked to multiply 7 times 1, and answers 7. she is then asked to multiply 1 times 1, and she says 7. oman is asked to multiply 1 times 1 and says 2? no, 4? simon is a student in our program who thinks he is a police officer. once a painter came to the high school. when he got out of his truck, simon eyed him with a purpose, and asked "are those commercial plates?" simon has dressed up as santa claus, an easter bunny, a policeman, and a member of the army. on his army uniform, he wore a button that said "peace is patriotic." simon would like to be a clown when he grows up.
just a taste of my gig. the job al grohs on me like a wart, and i jet out each day at 2:35 to get on with my life. i feel free, but the feeling doesn't last long, for rent will be due at the first of the next month, and i'm not ready quite yet to take up residence at the local park. i think i'll wait a little while longer before i allow snobby teenagers to set me on fire for a gag. no, better to live like a monk and blow smoke. actually, i was gonna blow joe frazier, but he wasn't homo, so i cleaned houseo instead. when i'm good and eddie i'll tell you the rest of the tail.
silberg has some sayings he would like me to relay.
always get the items on sale, because they are cheaper.
sex is great while you are having it, and overrated when you are not.
it takes courage to kill yourself; that's why so few people do it.
if it wasn't for black people, we would still be doing the polka.
god is asleep, but the devil is wide awake.
fuck david robinson. let him go fight for a country that is being attacked, like iraq. i'm sure they could use the resources of a millionaire who has been inside the war machine.
school takes time away from education
i'd rather be listening to wynton kelly
you want a look at the new fascism? watch tv, and don't hit the mute button when the commercials come on. hitler was bush league in comparison. (no pun intended, but that last line worked, huh?)
jessica said alba seeing you, but it's hard to see angels in the dark. so, i'll lay j lo, and perhaps this chip on my shoulder will fade into the light of the starrs, kay? you edwin some, and you lose some.
what is this blog good for?
absolutely nothing i suppose, just like all else we to do to keep from facing the fact that there is a war on against them and us, and i (we) can't stop it. i will rally against the war tomorrow. i used to think these mattered. now, i just go.
what is one to do?

the night is dark and i am far from larry holmes

i wish i knew where my eddie house was, and even though i have walked down every ali and went to norton with my friend ken, i remain lost in the wilderness. by george, maybe i should settle down where i am and become a foreman or a taylor like mel. bob is a porter, leonard tells me, and i think it is a feather in his cap that he attained that position. perhaps god is getting even with me, or maybe my loss of memory is a side effect of some long forgotten sin i threw myself into. they tell me all things happen for a reason. if that is the case, why did i dream i was having sex with warren harding and wake up with a woody allen film on at dick's last resort? yes, i have resorted to the dick dialogues yet again, and it is still early in the blog. the blog is not even close to the ensler, and while we may be on the eve of something funny i've stopped loving you, i no diggity no doubt it.
i spoke to ross last night before going to the john. he was happy that alex cora was getting played. ross once had trouble with his auto leskanic,a man by the name of curtis, who would blow ross off, especially when no one was around. silberg often said this "you moss remember this, you are not gay if you're the receiver." i never really caught his point, so perhaps i should pass on the whole conversation and throw them in joe. i could walk down the hall of the school and go to the jim, and make my body hard. granted, it costs green to join a gym, a hendrix dollars a month at the jim in my neighborhood. and who wants to walk on a treadmill? doesn't anyone just take a fucking walk anymore? no, every one has their own car which they take to lynn to see george carlin for 40 bucks a head as long as they bring their own condom. pryor to that, they will go to poor richard's and have a few beers after a long day at the office.
ahh, what's the match point? i feel trapped in a penn, a prison of my own mind, a jail not of my own choosing. is there hope? yeseree bob! but i don't feel that way sometimes. sometimes i feel a heavy weight on my back to back with bucking broncos, and the elway to peace seems 4th and long. perhaps you can not brooks this blog anymore, and are waiting for a movie on my part to grow silent. but i am saddled with guilt that i have not gone out with a blaze of glory and in the history of the world, i feel my self to be a footnote, and this gives me high anxiety. perhaps if i could reinvent myself as a hustler, i would feel like a newman and my hard times would end and i would find happiness straight ahead. but it would probably just give me a fat head, if you can follow the tenor of what i'm saying.
silberg is not as hopeless as the chairman, although he was despondent after viewing the lawrence welk marathon in its entirety. silberg argues that there are many things that make life worth living, including jackie wilson's 1967 cover of don gardner and dee dee ford's "i need your lovin," "nights of cabiria," a perfectly formed female rear end, "human resources," "red garland's piano," "out there" lem winchester's "with feeling" nat cole's "after midnight," tixon, pinko and his mate artest, silberg's folks who live on the virgil hill, sammy davis's dancing, sinatra's singing on the songs for swingin lovers album, free food, and hearing noam chomsky say mafia incorrectly.
i acknowledge the merits of his points.
but what of war, racism, environmental destruction, colonialism, sexism, rape, the tourist industry, cancer, aids, starvation?
yeah, i guess cyborg is right. when those thoughts come, go to the obligatory parade those of us on the left call a "protest" and turn the stereo on.
start with the eric dolphy - booker little quintet live at the 5 spot, and for a little while, depart from the madness that is america. the great alto man sonny criss once said "that the only thing real in america is ugliness" no, thanks to criss and his fellow musical geniuses, there is also jazz and blues and good film and fine art.
but these are no protection for the iraqi child on the run from the cluster bomb. yeah, i guess ugliness is the only real thing. when sonny gets blue, he comes up with a good quote.
ps, dig his recording of "when sonny gets blue" on the "this is criss" album. it's a bitch of a tune. well, that's all the looney chairman has to say for now. and now, it's back to the farce we call existence
peace

dogg, i will hound you with my blog, hence making sure you are not lonesome tonight

tonight won't be just any night. no david justice, no peace, know david justice, know peace. that was a berry funny line, don't you think? i had to be braves to say it, because my head would have been on the chopping block, but i decided to take a shot this alonzo morning with my best stuff, like smith who thought there was too many cellos in school, so he played up the violence angle instead. i tried to pull a few strings to get him a job proof reading bibles, but joe torah told me "no matter how much jewish to get him a gig, koran would never hire him." ahh, yankees are alike. fuck little anthony and the imperialists, whose actions go to stan's head, and he getz sick. i'm tired of writing this stitt. i should be outside enjoying the sonny weather and blowing my own lena horne. lena on me when you are not strong, and mo vaughn to better things. don't let your happiness withers away, jackie. please, gleason to what i'm saying. take a day off and go to the art carney museum, and then run through an audrey meadow in joyce randolph mass with joey bishop, a member of the mickey mouse club. his picture is on my mantle. i talk about him with my yogi all the time after time, i tell myself that i'm so lucky not to have struck out with tixon, although i would rather not pay my texas. by the way, the cuban health care system is on the mark. on your mark get so go to see dexter gordon play at the hi hat trick. orr, we could go to the kennedy museum and look at the exhibit on bobby and mike weaver, a heavyweight who was killed before his time, as his watch was running slow. last night i played my 45 of slow what at 33.3 speed in the blue of evening. thomas complained of noise and made me close the dorsey. then, i ate an ice cream cone with eric and lenny. well, i thought i would bruce things up a bit, because the morgan you do, the moore you learn. johnny agrees with me, which is why he always drifts under the boardwalk and goes down to the club. i felt like doing this too, but i didn't have the johnny cash. i hope i won't have to walk you through these lines again this couldn't happen again. it can't happen here. have you heard of that book, garfield? i know you are an intelligent cat, so i thought you might know of it. well, either way, the suns will set tomorrow, so keep your serenaity and remember, that where there is a williams there is a way, so weigh your options and buy by the ezra pound.
people magazine just wants to be free. come on rascal, sing "joy to the world" and b. free with me. that song always scores big. the song is you, so tune up and sing sing for all of those in jail on donald trumped up charges. don't duck the issue of police brutality. police, hear me out here and now, and take up where the national organization of women has left off. ohh lord hampton, help us. fetus when we are hungry. please lord, don't let these fascists running "our" government abort this earth. lord, fire these leaders that are full of hot wind, and wind down this disaster they have maid of manhattan, and the world at large. lord, fix up small's paradise, and don't wilt chamberlain under pressure. lord, do this and 20,000 other things that need to be done. you can do it, for you are strong, as is this gin romney that i'm drinking, but come hell or high waters john, i will speak my piece into the mike and communicate before we all dyson. i will speak lo to jennifer and block out all negative thoughts, for while it is tempting to blow my own selena horne, i haven't made enough dough to be at pizza with myself just yet. rather, i am affleckted with feelings of guilt, and no matter how much innocents i burn baby burn, the inferno that is life consumes me. all that is left is my compact disco collection, which i love tender. perhaps i should just teddy bear down, save my money, and get out of the ghetto instead of thinking about the mammories pressed between the pages of my mind. but, it's so much easier to stand patti, and turn my back on the world, and while i may be lonesome tonight if i do this, this world gives me a cold shoulder, and i can't wrap my head around it. a hallmark of success is being able to play your cards right, and i just can't do it. im probably gonna end up carvin the rock in some jail house, which will really have me all shook up, and i'll end up with no elmo hope on some desolate street, eating a sesame bagel and listening to cream in some black room.
and then, there was death. the end couldn't come soon enough, but alas, there was more time to kill. another work day, another rent check to write, more toilet paper to steal from my "job"
just keep listening to silberg, who tells me "it's worth it." think of soul station and point of departure and william blum and arundhati roy and ike quebec and a tree turning colors in the fall and the early allen films and duck soup and coltrane's recording of lush life and russell's "outline of intellectual rubbish" and diego rivera's murals and jason kidd's passing and manny ramirez at the plate and sinatra's recording of one for my baby. and so much more.
but what of all the bad stuff?
it just doesn't seem to even out.
does it?

david used to have hard times but now he is a newman

my brother ray told me that when we sailed in the charles river, but i was blind to its meaning at the time. this is the first time i have tried to blog and listen to music at the same time. the tune? david newman's recording of hard times, a sexy song filled with innuendo. you know what i always say, don't you? love flies out the door when money comes innuendo. i give that line high marx, so don't get groucho if i use it again. just get down to monkey business and don't duck soup the difficult circumstances that need to be confronted, for it would be a horse feather in your cap if you are able to overcome them. i promised i would get to the harold land recording of the fox, but rick wanted to play something else, and i was too sheepish to argue with him. speaking of the old recordings, they don't mike the artists like they used to. i spoke to pinko about this, whose girlfriend is an artest. i'll phyllis you in to the rest of the conversation at a later date. i bought a girl a red rose once when we went out on a date, and she accused me of being a communist for it. i became stern and said sarahnara to her. she was a plane jane anyway, and the adventures of old christine was coming on that night here comes the night, so nothing robin ventura nothing gained.
pinko, when you move, don't forget to pakistan getz record, because they getz better with each listening. have you though of relocating to the middle east? i am syrias. i know you are caught betwen iraq and a hard times, but david thinks you would be a newman if you moved in to john africa's old house with eddie, one of my favorite people in the whole horace race. he is a mann who has been taken for granted for too long. i was taken for cary grant once by a tracy artist who made a movie to draw me when i was walking through a meadow with audrey and picking flowers with jennifer and judy in a garland of red. living such a life is the alicia keys to my success, for i have a rick flair for nature, boy, and i have a cole blooded ability for being able to identify a gnat a miles away, any davis of the 8 days a week. i am also good at identifying beatles, but perhaps i should let this be, and dream of yesterday, because it has been a hard day's night that has made me want to twist and shout. isley clearly now, wilson has gone. don't rainn on my parade, for i'm having a ball, and whether lucy appreciates it or don knots, i don't care. i will continue to spinners this yarn, and i'll be around to work my way back to you babe whether you like it or not. sonny, i make no bonos about it, because girl my persono i cher like sonny bono, and my beato goes on because i've got nothing to luz. somehow, i college of management was able to throw that line in
n. tixon goes to austin in a couple of weeks. iran into my buddy guy steve in lawrence and he told me it is nancy stone cold there, and that when you go to the john, it is hard times getting your pants back up. these lines are straight ahead, sailing over the atlantic. i elmo hope you sea what i mean. ahmet every word i said. i say the same things to ron cey. cey you cey me cey it forever.
my friend, you've got to bear down and not panda to the masses. instead, visit chicago and go to a cubs game. you may think i'm full of bulls, but listen jackson, steve kerr ain't walking through that door, so stop dogging me around. you better stop, yeah, dogging me around, which reached #1 on the r and b charts and #15 on the pop charts in 1960. it fills me with excitement, mr. to mention it, and as i thought it was the honorable thing to do, i spoke up.
dare to keep yinka dare off drugs. he needs to get hemp to the jive 5, and celebrate good times in the kool of the evening with the gang and marry juana, his childhood sweet heart. i used to live in the hood, but my head got too big, and i had to move to another illinois jacquet. i lived in garelick for a while but i got behind in the rent, and was eventually kicked out because the owner had a rule that none of his tenants could go see cats on broadway. this caused me to stomp away from that derrick location. now, i have a new living arrangement, and while the strings are a little syrupy, i enjoy living in a log cabin with my aunt jemima in vermont. there is charlotte church nearby, where i attend mass every sunday. you mass remember what i'm ron ceying, ok? if you don't, i will belittle you and you will turn pinko in the face.
peeps, until we meat again, shop organic. start with larry young's recording of unity, which i picked up at shaw's market and which gave me a woody when i first heard it, but i was too young to know what hard times truly were.
peace.

repent for what?

sooner or later, i knew some dick clark head would comment that i need to repent. repent for what? for the 1000 oragasms i have had before marriage? for rooting for the bull to beat the shit out of the bull rider? for saying shit in the previous sentence? for over using question marks? for reading karl marx? for getting bad marx in school? for not learning how to play the harpo? for watching silberg's "getting played?" for using electracity to listen to carmen? for spending a night at the opera?
you want me to repent, but you don't even know who i am. am i cyborg, mellish, silberg, horace mann, the chairman? have you taken the time to find out? i'm sure you think jesus is coming, but i think the only guy cuming has a smiley on his face and lives on sesame street. to you, my commenting friend, i ask this...
if jesus were going to come back, why didn't he come to stop the slaughter of the indigenous people by the white colonialists who claimed to believe in him? why didn't he come to stop slavery, the theft of mexico, the holocaust, the bombing of iraq, the destruction of vietnam, lynching, cluster bombs, famine, drought, and so much else? is it because "he" gave us free will? well, if i create a species that goes on to commit murder, rape and theft on a genocidal scale, and does these things in my name, what does that say about me and the species i created? or do the facts not matter, because you have faith hill, and that's all that counts. well, listen dracula, i'm not gonna dance around this anymore, so pick a rumba from one to ten. oh, you picked one? good, because that's your iq! i will meet you on any website, and blog your arse into the ground, and that's the truth, williams. i would give you a carl, but i don't have your number.
don't be psalm over my response. isaiah alot of things, even on my job. parenthetically, have you read any good books lately? do you know anyone who will "begat" any time soon? speaking of the bible, what do you have to say about that part in numbers where moses and his people are told by god to kill all the men and women in the town, but to keep the young girls for themselves. do you remember that part? what's your defense of it? oh, that must be one of those parts that we are not supposed to take literally. yeah, that's how it works. if we like it, we agree to take it literally, and if we don't like it, it's a metaphor and it's not to be taken literally. well, what's the metaphor for killing and rape? what deeper meaning does that hold for us to uncover?
you, my true believer, obviously have a lot of free time on your hands if you have time to read my blog. why aren't you out "saving souls?" when's the last time you spoke in tongues? when's the last time you got a cone with david at jp licks and went to the met for a night at the opera with your brothers under the skin? to be frank, this is not a riddle. a night at the opera was a movie that kept it reel, but what do you know about that, father divine? what do you know about the church of what's happening now? don't flip out on me, wilson, just listen to what i'm saying.
can you hear me? i think i will rot when i die. instead of dreaming about an afterlife, i think we should fight to make the present on this earth as heavenly as it can be. but no, it is easier to feel superior to others and to think that because you happen to believe something that all your problems are solved. well, not all of us accept a bribe so easily. there are still some of us who try to think for ourselves and understand that a book that is thousands of years old may not hold all the answers we need to solve the pressing problems of the present.
so, to make a long story bobby short, go fuck yourself, and pray that i don't prey on you in a future blog.

i kent believe that i saw clark yesterday

bb king used to sing for kent records, while sonny clark recorded for harold melvin and the blue notes. i slappy a white guy everytime i get mad tv, for my anger often bubba's up up and away and i enter the 5th dimension, which you need to spend some bills on to gain entry. i went to a dinah in washington and ordered an entree of freedom fries last year.
adan is here again for the second day in a row. i am upset by this. adan had a chance to drop out, to finally make a decision and stick to it, but he sold out yet again. so he is back in school, learning how to adan subtract. whether he should stay in school or not has obviously led to some divisions in his family, and while we will perhaps never get to the square root of the problem, adan is in the prime of his life, and even if he were to pursue his education, i find it odd that he would do it at brookline high, as he is always high. i was gonna marry juana, but she wouldn't tell me her last name. that joke was a j lo point of the history of this blog. how will i ever survive and gayner back the gloria i used to have. it's still the same old story the fight for love and gloria, which takes place every donna summer. you have to be hardy to fight this battle, and donna a bullet proof vested interest just to make sure you don't luz money like beato. i march to the beato of my own drummer, and while you mae arnett find this comment off bass, i will continue to trumpet my ideas. idea i d e a idea. god, that was an annoying advertisement. silberg thought it was getting played too much, and wrote to the station's producer, directing him to stop playing it. the producer made a movie to stop airing it, and eventually sent silberg an oscar peterson record. silberg got high off the solo of herb ellis on how high the warren moon, which he heard in kenyatta while growing a mustache and reading the writings of charles beard.
but what does it all matter, for aren't we hair today and gone tom tomorrow? picture this...you are drawn into a difficult situation. there is no courtney love in all the world, hate has taken over, and over and over i keep going over the world we knew, when love was new and each kiss 108 a sweet inspiration from lee morgan's recording of candy. i may ring your big maybelle and play it for you pinko if you haven't heard it, and bill cosby you for it later. i was gonna name my daughter shaniqua, but i don't have a jason kidd, a scary thought, according to freddie, who started freeloading off me kind of out of the blue one day last year. but, so what? what does it all mean meridian and mode, and while sonny may have redd that remark, i am still mr. blue, and grant green with envy. i want johnny moore than to be a drifter. i don't mean to be rudy lewis, but why i can't i live like a ben e. king in spanish harlem? if i only had someone who would stand by me, and sam cooke for me, and be witty and pretty and marvin gaye no matter what was going on. ohh, mercy mercy me, i don't feel good. perhaps i should read the king james bible with the teachings of jesus the carpenter in brown. please please please, help me. do something for me, like buy me a brand new bag, or a nip of brandy in a liquor store in norwood, which would build my confidence and turn me into a sex machine. or, i could attend mass, and pastor the time listening to the high priest of bop and watch monk on tv and play with my dalai. but no, i'd dan rather take it on the lama because you pigs are always busting by chops. well, stick a pork in it because im done with it all

if i were jesus the carpenter i would mc hammer in the alonzo morning

hamas remember this, we are trapped in a hezbollah of confusion, so we should probably just mel it in and listen to the velvet blog. she wore blue velvet bluer than velvet were her eyes and juicy lucy were her thighs, wrote horace silver, a member of the horace race who wore superman's cape verdean blue genes when he hung out with ammons down at the club with the drifters. the four of them were the tops in my book. we need mo town's like the place they were born free in. born free as free as the grass grows. people everywhere just want to be world b. free. perhaps if we could stop being such rascals we would be free at last. ahh, silberg tells me to go one pun etta time, but i just can't help it, courtney sanders loving you baby is all i need to get by as long as i have you. there may be rainn wilson and the prince of darkness due, but i won't complain, i'll sea it through and keep my head above water, having good times all the way. you may norman lear at me, but i'll get to best buy as long as i office max out my potential, because working hard is a staples of my personality. don't worry, there are more bad puns in store, but supplies are dwindling, so get them while you can can, ok shirley? or, perhaps it's time you make a mclean break from reading this jackie. you can do it, for where there is a wilson, there is a helen way singer singing back up at the live at the copa album from 1962 on brunswick records. eugene made a record of this comment, and told me to continue to keep the blog chi-lite. i said, listen sun records, don't tell me how to blog, unless you can hit like wade bloggs, whose website has had over 3000 hits. andre has even gone on it, which i find odd. you may not know what i mean, but i think this blog is prime meridian mellish, and that i am really finding the range.
adan came to school today for the first time in two weeks. alas, he still can not adan subtract. i signed a new subtract, but i still don't have health benefits. adan was thinking of dropping out of school, but instead showed up today with a shirt with the white house on it that said "murda capital" two weeks off have seemingly turned him into che guevara. what you che? hit the abbey road jack johnson, and don't you dare to keep kids off drugs and to jennifer deflower our young white girls who just want to have fu-un. i bet that threw you for a lauper.
i'm out.

i prefer his early, funny blogs

silberg thinks i have gone off the deep end. "chairman, these ideas will never see the chi-lite of dorris day" he exclaimed to me. you may say that i'm a dreamer but we all need someone to lennon or we will withers away into a state of nothingness. is there any elmo hope left, and if so, what sesame street does he live on? i don't like to brag, but i have a big bird, which helped me to win an oscar at the porn awards.
i was so angry yesterday. i was gonna jack jones up, and make him damone, for i am tired of being the victim. i just want to get it away from it all and move to steve lawrence and go to mass and listen to the high priest of bop. is that too much to ask and he will tv guide you ask he's there beside you. you add up the besides to get the perimeter. ray allen is a great shooter from the perimeter and he deserves to garnett more attention for his skills. i kidd you not, he can make a defender nash his teeth, and while they may try ginobli to stop him, he will pierce their defenses and make them all look like kerrs, sending them to the eddie dog house. horace granted, it's only a game, but preying won't help you none when he goes in for the kill. i ain't lion, for he sours like steve, he has the eye of the tiger and is a junk yard dog. he is superfly. you may snooker at this remark, but i think it is a remarkable one, if i do say so myself. for who else was gonna say it. perhaps ron say, or perhaps jackie wilson will say you will, but he gets lonely sometimes and cries teardrops from his eyes. wilson often cried rainn drops, as did dee clark, who got a job as a clark at a bar in an office building after his singing days were over. great michael scott, i wonder how much bread he made? i will phyllis you in when i get the chance. these jokes are going right down the shrute and are worthy of an oscar for best comedy essay. essay alot of things, but not all of them are true. i speak my minnnd and always give a serling effort, because i have a steak in the issue, which comes out the 1st of every month, period. it's that time of month again when i get sarah weeks in the knees and think of a june holliday away from the john maddening crowd. a jennifer flowers, a trip to the troy hudson river, sailing with bobby darin in the billy ocean, is that too much to ask? where can a thomas mann find a penis? yes, this is german to the topic. irish you knew that. perhaps we could talk about it at the pub, bub. but no, you have things to do, yes you do do do.
have you heard of the return of the big mac? i was gonna save that whopper of a comment, but my brain is fried from all the french classes i've taken. we toasted the teacher after watching a george burns movie which got the students all fired up and opened the doors to other paul pressing concerns, but i will continue to buck the system and i will spurs all offers to conform even if conforming would nets me a fine income. i would rather be a true patriots than travel with the jet set,. my aim is to be a giants among men, to be a trailblazer moving at supersonic speed and to see al attles before i go to that great basketball court in the sky masterson. for i'm a master, son. for you, my reader and i, may make for an odd couple, but i unger for a connection, so please redd on and don't be a freeloader like freddie.
what is the point of this, sister? give me a pointer please please please before i brown in my own tears. i can't even keep track of these lines as everything gets smokey, for there is too much on my platter at the dinah. so first, i drink down my kafi as my thoughts go annan and annan, and i dream of the nations of the world united in harmony. will we ever get along penis? and if so, will we be able to sing the blue balls? all i know is we will have more dick dialogues later.
peace.

mellish in power part III

foreign policy

all defense corporations will be expropriated. all forms of bombs will be abolished. there will be an international security force that will be sent when needed to areas of conflict. they will be versed in the areas of persuasion and non-violence, and will only resort to violence when there is no alternative. in addition to the international security force, there will be international teams of doctors, architects, educators, carpenters, farmers, etc that will strive to create a decent, uniform standard of living throughout the world. the emphasis in foreign policy will be in this direction. for an example, look at how cuba sends doctors throughout the world to treat the sick. with the resources of the world at our disposal, we could multiply this example a millionfold, wiping out diseases, eliminating poverty and greatly lessening conflict along the way

the u.s. will apologize to the world for the genocide it has practiced both at home and abroad, and will eagerly take part in these international endeavors to create a more healthy and peaceful world.

women's rights

abuse of women will be dealt with by women themselves. self defense centers exclusively for women will be opened, and private instructors will be available to teach classes in the communal developments. if a man abuses a woman once, he will be harshly warned. if he does it a second time, he will be dealt with in the manner the women see fit.
all areas of learning and interest will be completely open to women. there will be separate components in each health clinic that specifically deal with areas particular to women's health. information on reproductive health will be readily available, and nurseries operated by trained child care specialists will be available in each communal development. child care will be viewed as a "job" and a skill that women can teach others as their bartering tool in exchange for the services they need.

relationships

people will be considered married if they feel themselves to be married, and they will be divorced when they decide they are not a couple anymore. people will live in the manner they are most comfortable with. if they want to have more than one partner, they will communicate this to the people involved, and not live a life of lies. hopefully, they will find others who want to live the same kind of life as they do. people who are sexually active with more than one partner will be strongly encouraged to protect themselves within their health clinics and in public service announcements. mandatory aids testing will take place every six months, and a positive result will lead to the partner/s of the infected person being immediately contacted. the normality and beauty of healthy sexual relations, including homosexuality, will be demonstrated to children in learning centers and health clinics starting at the age of 12. parents and guardians will of course be free to begin educating their children at an earlier age.

agriculture

the giant agricultural behemoths will be expropriated. the use of pesticides will be GREATLY reduced, and abolished whenever possible. crops will be grown so that the people can eat them, not to be sold half way around the world. organic farming will be greatly encouraged, as in cuba, where all the farms are organic (did you catch that one, pinko?) communal farms will be instituted, and family farms will be encouraged and supported by local residents. all people will be encouraged to grow their own food. each communal development will have its own community garden with guest instructors to demonstrate how to best maximize the land. our system of bartering will serve us well here. if one area grows certain crops, they can trade a portion of that crop for a crop grown in another area, hence, insuring that all areas have the food they need.

international borders

there will be no borders. people will come and go as they see fit. as all efforts will be made to create a uniform standard of living throughout the world, immigration will be greatly reduced. of course, people will still want to travel and explore different parts of the earth, but they will do so from a desire to learn and not out of economic necessity. borders are lines drawn in the sand, not fit for thinking beings. this is not to say that people can not love their place of birth, or prefer certain climates, but when these sentiments are stripped of their nationalistic and materialistic moorings, they will be equivalent to liking jazz more than classical, or baseball more than football. they will not be a cause for conflict, but a matter of taste. the resources and food of an area will be first be used to satisfy the needs of the people in that area, and the remainder will be used as a bartering tool to attain other needed resources. these transactions will be made from a position of equality by all concerned.

the mellish plan for complete communities and socities of scale

(if you have not read the mellish plan for world renewal, the previous blog, please read that first)

the economy..

after the expropriation of rich individuals and corporations, a vast redistribution of wealth, and a gutting of the military budget, the mellish plan becomes more enveloping and radical in scope. from these moves we turn to the abolition of money. in its place, a unified system of bartering will be instituted, in which people give their skills and services in exchange for their various needs and wants. for example, silberg is an expert on jazz, sports, and radical politics. in the mellish world, silberg can teach this information, either in his own house, or at a learning center, to people who want to learn about these subjects. in return, he will receive what he needs to survive from the society.

there will be no chain stores. no burger kings, walmarts, best buys, none of it. these stores, with all of their wealth, will be expropiated. if someone wants to start a restaurant, he will receive the necessary training at a cooking center, and be granted a humble piece of land and building in which to house his eatery. this will be the man's "job". people will come in and eat a limited amount, but enough to satisfy their hunger. in return for the service the man offers, he will in return receive services that he needs to survive.

thrift "stores" will be centrally located where people can drop off things they no longer want in exchange for things that they do want. instead of mindlessly producing new gadgets, we will be encouraged to share what is already in existence. hence, we will create a "society of scale"

animal rights

all hunting and fishing for fun will be abolished. natural habitats for various species will be respected and cared for. zoos will be abolished. we have no more right to imprison a lion than a lion does to imprison us. all testing on live animals will be abolished.

health care

the research, time, and energy that goes into "curing" baldness, "erectile dysfunction", hair removal, and vain plastic surgeries, will be put into finally ending malaria, tuberculosis, and other preventable diseases, which still kill millions throughout the world. all people will be entitled to the same care. doctors will treat everyone with respect, and will explain to their patients in plain language what the issue is. the importance of diet and exercise will be stressed. doctors will also strongly explain to their patients the necessity of all of us combating environmental degradation and the part that it plays in increasing cancer rates and other health concerns.

complete communities

a new housing arrangement will develop. instead of individual living arrangements, new constructs will develop that combine the personal and the communal. housing developments which house between 200 to 400 people will take the place of individual houses. each development will have a communal library with video screening room, stage for musical performances, and stereo, nursery, park, laundry, health clinic and small store, and will be conveniently located to public transit. the public transit will allow the residents to access the various learning centers, restaurants, and slightly more elaborate health clinics and markets. each residence will be surrounded by greenery, and be ethnically diverse. traveling educators will give lectures, and residents will teach other residents what they know. the transit system will eventually phase out most car use. highway construction will be halted. no longer will communities be built around cars. walking and the use of bikes will be encouraged, as various trails and paths will be created. nature will be valued and restored to the fullest of our abilities.

race.

anti-racism, and respect for all cultures will be the most important aspect of our culture. learning centers will be created that point out our racist past and its genocidal results, but these same centers will also demonstrate the rich history of resistance of indigenous, black, and other oppressed peoples. their music, art, film, poetry, and other cultural manifestations will be on full display.
racism will be attacked and condemned strongly when it occurs. if someone makes a racist remark, they will be ostracized by their peers and made to feel foolish. organized racist groups will be picketed, and attacked if necessary until they fade into oblivion.

the culture of various white peoples will also be respected and taught. who in our society truly understands the contributions made by emma goldman, eugene debs, abbie hoffman, hellen keller, mother jones, and so many others? centers which emphasize union history, working class history, and the culture of various ethnic groups will begin to correct this ignorance.

mellish has spoken. he will now eat a hot dog with mellish on it and ketchup on his reading. further plans for world renewal are in store.
peace

the chariman's plan for world renewal

the mellish plan follows.

the u.s. will cut it's military spending (this goes for the world as a whole) by at least 90%, will close all military bases, and abolish the cia, the fbi, and other instruments of state control. the money saved could then be used to pay reparations to the millions of u.s. war victims, and for badly needed social services at home.

in the 70's, the phrase, "free abortion on demand" took hold. taking it one step further, the mellish government will institute centers which offer free sex on demand. the sex workers, both male and female, will be well paid and receive a fine benefits package. condom use will be mandatory, and undercover security will be present to ensure that no abuse takes place. the centers will feature spacious rooms with central air and heating systems, and comfortable waiting rooms with impressive libraries.

there will be a vast redistribution of wealth. the richest 3 people in the world have more wealth than the poorest 148 countries. their wealth, as well as the wealth of millions of other billionaires and millionaires, will be confiscated by the state and will be put to the creation of housing, health care, education, and other worthy social needs. the richest person will only be able to make four times what the poorest person makes. for example, if the poorest person makes 20 dollars an hour, the richest will be able to make no more than 80 dollars an hour. because of the riches made available due to this vast redistribution of wealth, the average work week will be reduced to 20 hours.

instead of the modern education system, a system of learning centers will be created. for example, if you wanted to learn about music, there would be a center that would have an imposing collection of recordings of all genres of music, books on music, computers enabling you to do research, instruments for practice, and qualified instructors on site. all centers would be free of charge and would offer you the training necessary to become successful in whatever field of knowledge you elect to pursue. these centers would take the place of the modern university, which would be abolished. the modern university acts to indebt thousands of young adults each year who then must spend most of their lives paying off said debt. fuck them. furthermore, mandatory schooling for teenagers will also be abolished.

a process of the socialization of what are now considered personal consumer goods will rapidly begin. no one will be allowed to have more than one car, and no family more than two. the car and oil companies, as well as all giant corporations, will be taken over by the state. with the money saved, a system of well financed public transit would then develop and would be free to encourage its use. in place of the private ownership of cars, there will be car centers where people can pick up a car and use it for the day without charge. there will be other centers, such as computer centers, and free movie theaters, that will encourage people to join with others in social settings to partake in cultural offerings, and that will lessen their need to own computers, dvd's, tv's etc in their own home.

the modern prison system as we know it will be abolished. with the money saved by abolishing this racist, wasteful institution, drug treatment will be available to all drug users otherwise languishing in prison. mental health treatments will be made available to all who need them. and for those who continue to commit violent crimes, they will be separated from the rest of society, but otherwise will be able to enjoy relative freedom and access to most of the things everyone else has access to.

films, art, music, books, and other cultural manifestations will be freed from the corrupting influences of finance. an emphasis on the values of peace, anti-racism, anti-sexism, concern for the environment, the cultures of other countries, and alternative lifestyles will be a central component of the culture. free lectures, films, and musical concerts which stress these values will be integral elements of the dominant culture.

giant hospitals will give way to local health clinics. the clinics will be free and offer comprehensive services. doctors will treat patients in a respectful, human way. doctors who come from the communities they work in and who speak the language of the people in the community, will be the doctors who work in that community. the same will be true of policemen, bus drivers, store owners, and other pillars of the community. this will lead to a continuity of relationship, will build respect among all, greatly lesson police brutality and general distrust, and lead to an integrated community.

fielding has more ideas, but he believes this to be a fine start. the chairman has spoken, and now, he will take a seat.

on hearing sam cooke at bob the chef's

joey bishop, the high priest of schlock comedy and the last of the fudge packers, died in the chocolate city at the age of 89. to be frank, he was a dean of comedy, and i could listen to his jokes every davis of the week. there should be a lawford against someone being that funny. he had all the peter o'toole's that a comedian needs, i'm shirley about that. great scott, it is hard to imagine a world without him.
we in this country have a limited view of what we consider to be an assasination. i would like to bring up a few cases that are never thought of as such, if they are thought of at all. i believe they demonstrate modern variations of slavery and show the total control that the powerfully corrupt continue to exercise over independent, talented, often BLACK people.
Rudy Lewis, lead singer for the drifters on such hits as "on broadway" and "up on the roof" decided he was gonna go out on his own to start a solo career. shortly afterward, he was found dead in a hotel.
Sam Cooke, whose "a change is gonna come" had been done within the previous year, who would not allow himself to be controlled by the mob, and had recently started his own record label, has his clothes and wallet stolen by a young white woman that he has taken up to hotel room for an asexual conversation on the literature of faulkner and a game of checkers. furious, he runs downstairs, and becomes convinced that the host of the hotel is hiding the young woman. a tussle ensues and cooke is shot dead. the host, a black woman in her 40's, will later claim at trial THAT SHE HAS NEVER HEARD OF COOKE, A HUGE STAR AT THAT TIME. the host is found not guilty.
Wardell Gray, a 26 year old tenor sax player of tremendous ability, is fond of discussing the philosophy of sartre and the politics of henry wallace, who attempted to get a 3rd party started in this country when he realized the militaristic, right wing elements within the democratic party were taking the party completely over. Gray, who friend hampton hawes said would never touch drugs, is found dead with a broken neck in a river in las vegas.
There are many more such cases, but these will suffice for now. murder is used by those in power much more than we would like to admit. just ask your average iraqi.

there is a group that unites the children of holocaust survivors with the children of nazis. this seems a good idea and got me to thinking about other groups that may be worth having. how about...
the children of massacred indigenous cultures with the children of savage european colonialists. (wait a second, we already have that, it's called america) the children of african slaves with the children of african slaveholders. (wait a second, we already have that, it's called america) the children of those who had half of mexico stolen from them with the children of those who stole half of mexico. (wait a second, we already have that, it's called america) the children and parents who are having their country destroyed in iraq with the parents and children who are destroying that country with cluster bombs, depleted uranium, and torture to bring them something our leaders call "freedom" but which is called genocide when done by others.
these are just a few ideas. many more could be discussed. but no, we would rather shed crocodile tears over something someone else did than to face the genocide in our past, present and you can be sure, future.
i went to a dinah down the shore. the food was good. it was called bob the chef's and they were playing sam cooke on the stereo. jack was the dj and when i looked, dennis johnson and the celtics (pronounced keltics, for there is no such thing as a celtic) were playing coleman hawkins and the atlanta hawks. i watched the game like a hawk while a chain gang passed by my window. if only silberg had been there, but he was doing time, the only thing that would agree to have sex with him. silberg often expressed his opinion that sex was overrated, particularly when he wasn't having it. he would say there were many things better than sex, including the music of victor borge, the writings of zane, and watching ken burns's documentaries straight no chaser locked in your living room like a monk. there is room for many more of these jokes, say what you will. i was gonna write my will, but it didn't feel right. who should i leave my copy of "jackie sings the blues" to? thousands are fighting over it, and i know how ugly people can get, even when they are not fighting. ugly betty wants it, you can betty your life on that. she is a girl who knows how to have pun, realizes that nelson riddle was a bitch, and can have me in stitches when she spins those yarns of hers. i never run out of material. there is no need for me to hem and hampton hawes, and that is the 88 keys to my success. freddy redd that line and liked it, saying that he thought it was james worthy of a horace silver medal, or at least, an oscar peterson. by the way "jews without money" by mike gold is a great book. it is more lasting than bronze.
until then, keep your ears open.

letter to the tim wise

james, i'm petrasfied. i've tried to to talk to my parentis and even michael, but alas, they are not christian. i am afraid of taking part in a zinnful act, but i am too howardly to take part in anything else. if evers we needed bob moses, we need him now. but i hesitate, and freeze. i reach for a drink, a martini fit for a king. yes, i have a rye sense of humor, and a cd of brandy's greatest hits which allows me to gin and beer it. but, there are other times when i get the scotch blues, and i brooks no shit from tina, a criminal who i have no respect for. i was gonna turner in to the men in blue man group, but i just couldn't go through with it.
god, help me if you exist. give me a sign, like a wallet filled with money or 6 more inches of height. show me the helen way singers, and give me the wilson to carry on. speak to nick woodrow god, and show him/her where h/she has gone wrong. oh, take me to heaven i'm in heaven and my heart beats so that i can hardly speak low when you speak to courtney love. i am in a love hate relationship with the beach. i think it is the sanders that i dislike the johnny most, although i do like the joe dirt, the mudd jeans, the white castle hamburgers, and the billy ocean. i went to the billy club last night and saw the edwin starrs before my eyes. i can sea clearly now the rainn has gone. i learned to read that sentence using the wilson reading method. jackie taught it to me. the whispers are getting louder that he will not return to teach the class next year. he is part time faculty. in fact, there is time for tyner.
that rascal nolan just sang to me that "he's been lonely too long" nolan is a student in the room that i work in who has crush on me. he thinks i'm a sweety pie. i told him pie equals 3.14 and that it's a piece of cake. the queen of france, when told of the crushing poverty in her cuntry, said "let them eat cock." alexander cockburn relates this piece of herstory all the time. don't cockburn no bridges along the way, you just might need to pass this way someday. i'm tryin to keep this chi-lite as i stay in my corner here at my dell computer.
a student just asked me if i have ever been to club felt. i felt like going once but i don't like to go out at night. i'm a homebody, a stay at home non-dad, and my dead beat goes on because i'm bad to the bono, and weather it's sonny clark at the bar, or chilly davis on my plate, i have a ball. i'm gonna keep swinging because i'm a goodman, then i'm gonna go to shaw's and buy a pepper. afterward, i'm gonna watch the salt of the earth, which was a work of art. this will be a supreme day, for it has a purity that most salad days don't have.
osama these days you're gonna miss me honey bruce. i've bin there done that and now i am laden with worry. gene mcdaniels blew up the tower of strength, which someone needs to make a record of. perhaps eugene will do this, and if you see him, please tell him why i asked him to do this. god, these lines are terrorble and are blowing up in my face. my jokes are fecesish. someone needs to john locke me up and throw away the randolph keys. maybe then, my victoria secrets can be unlocked and i can go to the john and shit on the dock of the bay. i hope you can get a redding on where i'm going here, as sam and dave and johnnie taylor have. taylor was not our regular man, but we did the best we could with travis, who took in my pants.
and then i threw a fit. the story makes for a good yarn. i threw for 30 yarns, but i will pass on that story, and run on to something else which is miles apart. we all need to play apart on this earth, for we are bit players in the chessboard of life that god has set up. it is my move, and i free john africa. don't ramona about it, rather, move on down the line. i copped that line from an almanac. i have an almanac for coming up with good lines like that. i only wish the people would waco up to what i have to offer. sometimes, the sound of their silence makes me want to koresh them, but i am more human than the fbi. unlike them, i am not a part of the system. i can't just kill people who i don't like and call it my patriotic duty, for i wear no army uniform, and i am not a policeman or cia or fbi agent. i saw agent yesterday on the train, a nice long fellow. we spoke of days gone best buy, and spoke of crossing a bridge over a trouble that john waters was having. i hope you craig mustard sea what i mean median and mode. yeah, i'm really finding the range now. maybe from here on in i'll just play it safe and play the percentages.
or, i could stop writing this bullshit. how many children have starved since i started this. how much electricity has been used that could have been used by poor peasants. questions abound, and the answers are too painful to speak out loud. so, i jerk off some more and call it clever, and someone somewhere reads this.
and death gets a little bit closer.
pick up "at ease." hawkins was a bitch.
peace

tonight won't be just any brevin knight

i wouldn't send a knight out on a dog on this. knight on a dog alice! the honeymooner is over for people who need people. my barbras are flying, my wit is quick, my finger is typing. secret courtesy of victoria, i type with one finger. another secret: i was once nearly arrested at the copley mall for starting a fictitious petition. i was trying to get enough signatures to get a "victor's mystery" going. well, if victoria can have a secret, why can't victor have a mystery? the thrill of victor should be shared by all. and while sonny and shared may have you, babe, the beat goes on, and we still don't have a victor's mystery. in any case, the police came and told me "to move on." move on to where, another mall to continue my journey? for remember, the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. by the way, how's journey? is it still hurting? get well soon because we kneed you back to give us a hand.
silberg has had his own troubles with the law. once, at an imf protest (quick! what does it stand for?...international monetary fund) the cops got on their horses and charged the crowd. silberg thought the crowd was overcharged, and calmly pointed out that they had been charged for 250,000 roast beef sandwiches when there were only 75,000 protesters by official estimate. the cops became angry, and a beef developed. silberg called them pigs, and said they were too chicken to face the crowd without their guns. the situation soon mushroomed out of control. protesters threw tomatoes at the police, and silberg became nervous. his apple came up, and he made a quick retreat. when last i heard from him, he was in turkey, giving thanks that he had his health.
silberg had some interesting ideas. he turned to atheism when he realized that there is no cure for a pizza face. silberg believed that god had done some good things in his day, like the two for one at mike's pizza in davis square on monday nights, and the creation of beyonce knowles' lower body. but there were other areas where he believed god didn't do as well, such as famine, war, poverty, rape, and environmental destruction, and this worried silberg. silberg turned to eastern philosophy, but then his books were stolen. he claimed he would tzu, but he needs to find out who did it first. who's on first? come on bud, you've got to follow along.
silberg than began to blame the "u.s." for everything, such as his dandruff, and the mediocrity of his body. he wanted to overthrow the government but ended up overthrowing a pass on 3rd and 8 in a flag football game. he was game, and even though he tried to prey, he still lost his starting job. silberg tried to get a job, but ended up buying a bible, where the teachings of jesus were smeared in blood. meanwhile, the music of red garland played softly in the background, and the morning sunrise was a sight to behold. you've got to behold on to what you've got, said joe in a tex message that i would cell to you if you'll me give some big money grip for it. if you can sanford it, i think it's a good deal, my son. it would make for good times in somerville, where we could pool our resources and bowl everybody over. then, we could paintball the town. finally, we could move on up to my bunker and join elizabeth, who will have a big one waiting for us. what if god were a big one of us? who gives a hooters? i'm going tit for tat now, and my thoughts are like two penises in a pea pod, and since i'm in boston, i'm gonna poddy like it's 1999 with an artist who was formerly known as ron artest. ron failed his algebra artest. the teacher, whose name was pinko, corrected it with a red marker. that's the marker of a fine teacher. actually, a great shape and a nice butte, montana are. hannah is a fine example, but the barbarians never treated her well.
silberg had some great get poor slow schemes. he was his own man. no one else was david silberg, except david silberg, who wrote, produced and directed "getting played" with carmen electra and vivica fox. the movie is vivica in my mind, and was certainly james worthy of the electracity i spent to view it. silberg preferred fellini. he once took a cabiria to watch mike mussina shoot a moose at his pajama party. why he went to a pajama party without a thong is beyond me. without a thong the day would never end, without a thong the road would never fort bend, not even for my huckleberry friend, who once mooned joan rivers in kenyatta, leading to a warren for his arrest. they found him riding to sally's house, and while we had a strong picket line during his trial, he still could not learn the wilson reading method. he is now serving 5 to 10 courses a day, each worth three credits, which i gave him even though i am not a union.
silberg is now laying low like derrick, as he sinks into oblivion. he is not even a household name in his own household. but he is still smarter than 99% of the dickheads we know as american citizens. this and a buck will get him a small coffee.
god bless america

ice cream konitz

the scene is brookline high school, one of the "best" public high schools in the country. yes, we teach our students here more bullshit, and in a superior manner. today, we are celebrating, because brookline outscored local rival newton north high school on the mcas, the state's standardized test, which is to knowledge as a mustard sea is to the atlantic ocean. but what of it? we "won"! we "know" more bullshit than they do, so let's eat ice cream while the bombs drop, while black youth are falsely accused of crimes, while the planet crumbles under the weight of corporate domination. there were no questions on these subjects on the mcas, no discussion of u.s, imperialism, slavery, the destruction of indigenous cultures, the stealing of half of mexico, the murder of fred hampton, malcolm x, lenny bruce, sam cooke, martin luther king, the jailing of leonard peltier and mumia abu jamal, the bombings of panama, yugoslavia, iraq, iraq again, the arming of iraq to bomb iran, the threatening of iran, the overthrow of the governments of allende in chile in 1973, arbenz of guatemala in 1954, mossadegh of iran in 1953, the funding of the massacre in indonesia of 1965 and the funding of the destruction of east timor by indonesia in 1975, the lack of trials of nazi war criminals so these same war criminals could be put to work by our cia in latin america, the funding and training of right wing dictatorships in el salvador and guatemala, the successful efforts to destabilize the left wing sandanista government of nicaragua, the full scale bombings of vietnman, laos and cambodia, the murder of college students at jackson state and kent state, the attacks on progressives in all fields throughout "our" history, the persecution of paul robeson, w.e.b. dubois, eugene debs, emma goldman, marcus garvey, the murders of emmett till, goodman, chaney, evers, schwerner, the thousands of lynchings both "legal" and "illegal," the forced deportation of thousands of immigrants for having ideas not shared by those in power, the planned destruction of public transit to make way for the domination of the big car and oil companies,and the murder of countless labor unionists and human rights activists who have attempted to challenge corporate domination and political fascism in latin america, asia, and africa by u.s. trained thugs.
but what of this info? tell me now, what is the difference between a metaphor and a simile? what is an allusion? what's the difference between a monologue and a soliloquy? what is the main idea of countless meaningless excerpts which tell us nothing about anything of the society that we live in. we teach our students the roots of words but never the roots of their country. political illiteracy abounds, while we spend our time as "educators" reminding our black students not to say ain't. we are "teaching" our youth. they are "learning" to get up every morning at a certain time, not that lumumba was assasinated by the cia. they are "learning" it is important to be on time for class, not that sacco and vanzetti were executed for the crime of being radical immigrants. they are "learning" to do power point presentations, not that nelson mandela was arrested with the help of the cia. they are "learning" to type papers with a 12 font, double spaced, but nothing of the u.s. maintained embargo against cuba which has killed thousands and has deformed what may otherwise have been a beacon of hope to the rest of humanity. as it is, they offer free universal health care, free schooling and have eliminated homelessness. perhaps they have "learned" that fidel is a "dictator," but they most certainly have not been taught about "our" dictators, "our "sons of bitches," like trujillo of the dominican republic, duvalier of haiti, marcos of the phillipines, pinochet of chile, mobutu of zaire, and so many more, real dictators who left decapitated bodies in the streets and political prisoners starving in jails. unlike cuba, these countries (and many more) had death squads, (funded by u.s.) and killed students, peasant leaders, trade unionists, progressive teachers, and radical entertainers.
how many of our youth (or our teachers) know of pinochet, mobutu, coups, the argentine death squads, the murder of allende, the el mozote massacre in el salvador, the murder of archbischop romero, mutilated american nuns, liberation theology.
and on and on and on and on.
school keeps on keeping us uneducated.
more ice cream for all

i'm just trying to raise kane to be a good citizen, or, hello dalai, it's so nice to see you expose yourself for the right wing hypocrite you are

oh welles, here we go again. good alonzo morning heartache, you're the one who knew me when. the "white" man, as you say you say me, say it forever that's the way it should be, is keach. i will have to bill you for this valuable bit of info. we are all info a lot of problems on this god forsaken earth.
the dalai lama will be awarded the congressional gold medal. dalai (not dolly, who has had a parton on several country songs. i had to get that off my chest) "explained to bush what was happening in tibet and told reporters he thanked the president for showing his concern about tibet." the lama chop went on to state about his relationship with bush, that "we know each other, and we have developed a very close friendship." how much do you want tibet that if the dalai had made any comments about the mass murder in iraq being orchestrated by his "friend," he would not be receiving any awards? the dalai lama is an overrated, no good asshole who claims to be man of peace while accepting awards from a man who has done nothing but start wars. he is a media ron darling, as opposed to pinko, who can't get quoted in the papers, no matter how hard he tries. in any case, throughout these times, i have heralded him. he has helped me post and he is one of my best pals on the globe. hopefully, we will continue to bee friends, though he is in sack, which is several yards away from me. i don't mellish making these remarks, and i will be fielding questions at a later time during a party of one with window silberg. silberg has to chilly out, like davis, who is miles from here. today's temperature is miles with sonny in the blue of evening with a chance of rainn wilson. whatever the weather, there will still be no peace. snow justice snow peace. i've got sunshine on a cloudy doris day. you may have a temptation to stop reading at this moment, but consider these lines a moment o of my esteem for you, for you, you faceless blog reader, are the force that power the esteem engine that is dave cyborg. josh beckett may win the cyborg award this year. speaking of the sox, which need to be washed at the matt by geary who is a socialist alternative, though he needs to watch his koloris intake. i'm not bryan to you, manny once said "i'm a gangsta, i'm here to ed wynn." oz see what i mean, but do you? how about you dorothy, do you remember ed wynn? how about edwin starr, who once had to walk 25 miles because of a lack of decent transit in his neighborhood. i sent out an sos for him, but i haven't heard a word from him since the war started. perhaps i should chan the subject and speak of jaaaakie. is he still working out, and if so, how much can he bench press? the pounds of muscle keep going higher and higher. i'll be satisfied when he can press a 100 pounds of clay and wear a pair of pants like gene and a hattie like mcdaniel. ahhh, but these thoughts are gone with the wind, and though i know you can't wind them all, i don't want to wind up like all the rest, asleep at the wheel, drowning in a sea of my own tears in the charles river with ray. and yes, while it is true that when you are in romano, you should do as romano does, this doesn't make me feel better.
everybody loves raymond burr, especially marvin gaye. that line made me happy. actually, i maid it up in manhattan. perhaps i will sam cooke something else up which has the power of a cannonball and will travel for miles. at the moment, my jones is acting up, and i have a hanker for something. i'm all keyed up, like alan, and moore and moore, i want to jump into the bottomless pit and end it all. but a teddy atlas, that would take courage, a trait that i john lackey, unlike the angels of karl anaheim, who scored hign marx this season by winning the west. a few of their players wore too much colon. i sat next to them at the bartolo, so i know. i had a gin with the players and then played romney with them. the catcher signed his mitt for me, and told me "this is worth mormon than you know, mormon than you know, horace mann of my heart i love you so." i tried to so for a living but i always had my co-workers in stitches with my jokes so i was fired. i was given a pink slip, which was very sexy, and if i had been a cross dresser, i would have worn it. as it was, i put it on my dresser, and gave it to fran when i saw her. i was never a big fran of her show. tv or not tv, that is the question. britney shakespeare said that. i beg your barden, i never promised you a rose stern garden, although i will make you some green eggs and hamlet if you would like to come over for breakfast.
i know this is a lot to chew on, but i have a lot on my plate. between reading the onion, thinking of mushroom clouds, and sitting at this apple computer, i am in quite a pickle. jim, the butter better be worth it, or perhaps we shall all have to sing a different tune, and go on a talk show with craig mustard. or, maybe we should just ketchup on our reading. i don't relish saying these things remind me of you. lester was young when he recorded it, but it was a cole blooded version fit for a king. when i hear it, i am on cloud 9 and i fly like a nat, i sting like bee arthur, and i float like muhammed alley cat. ahh, this is garbage fit for a can.
we are all fucked. between war, the environment, racism, sexism, and corporate domination of the planet, there is little bob hope. so let us take after the hopi indians and stay away from cleveland.
let us go back to nature, boy. let us not burn cole. there is no need for us to live like kings. let us record our thoughts,and smash the state. let us eat lettuce. let us think globally and act in 12 angry men. let us eat lee j cobb, and if the game ends in a ty, let us rebuild detroit like the tigers we are. i am not lion to you, we can turn it around. there is hope. we can write to our local papers, we can plant a tree rollins and watch it like hawks. we can be the center of attention because where there is a wilkins there is a way. we have to way our options, as helen has done. we need to plant a tree and cut a bush. we need to be able to tell the difference between a right wing populist and a bourgeois nationalist, and to be able to back it up with action. ok jackson?
peace.

grandma moses's tits and norman rockwell's ass

to start off, a little political discourse. after this discourse, i will have dessert, and then i will retire to my quarters and listen to penny lover. i will then lionel down on my bed, relax for a bit, take a bath, and then daydream into the great beyond. you knowles i will detach and my thoughts will wander into the blue horizon.
now, for the discourse.
hillary clinton has proposed a range of initiatives (she subtracted the smallest from the largest number, and ended up in texas) aimed at making it easier for college students to pay for and complete their education. left unsaid in this report is her support of the bombing of iraqi schools and universities, hence making it harder for college students to complete their education. hillary would provide $500 million in grants to community colleges. this is $220 million less than the $720 million that the iraq war costs each day. she said there is no guarantee that the u.s. will remain a great nation with a growing economy if it doesn't do more to make higher education more affordable. how can the the u.s. remain something that it has never been? is it great to drop bombs on people? is it great to lynch people? is it great to pollute the earth? is it great to steal half of mexico, and all of the u.s.? is it great to steal people from their homeland? is it great to murder and oppress trade unionists, political radicals, and others who have had the guts to oppose the beast? and by the way, just how is our economy growing? i know my bills keep increasing, but is that a good thing? i know we are creating more jobs at walmart and burger king, but is that a good thing? i know a small elite of corporate fuckheads continue to fill their pockets while the world drowns in poverty, but is that a good thing? is this a state of affairs we want to continue?
meanwhile, the paper reported that umass ta's rallied for a better contract. this piece of news was incorrectly reported. actually, they rallied for better t and a. whatever the case, i'm happy they got off their ass and butted heads with the administration on this hot button issue. i'll keep you abreast of any new developments in the story.
the story is one close to my heart, for i attended umass boston. umass remember this that kiss 108 is still kiss one oh eight, even though their spelled differently. umb was a good school. it was there that i meant pinko in vagina srikanth's class on native american literature. me and pinko are now inseparable. actually, we are 3,000 miles apart, but who cares for facts. facts and loose, right burt? because percentage players die broke too don't they burt. i had to hustle to get that line in. if you would only gleason more closely, you may catch more of these lines. ernie caught it too, and then ran down the street and got a sesame bagel. the cowboys defense could not keep the pats at bagel because their best player caught a colts. therefore, it was automatic who would win, because brady has got a gun, and it his constitutional right to use it. meanwhile, you keep on using me until you use me up, you take all my bills, and my happiness withers away. away back when, i was happy, but now i feel like shit and have to take happy. we are all entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of a penis.
last night, i went to a wonderful show. i saw the gay man's chorus. they started with a moving rendition (the song started at wally's and ended up at the regattabar) of the beatles "got to get you out of my ass." from there, they took on gary puckett's "young man get out of my ass, my love for you has come to pass. better run man, you're much too young man." i heard it through the vine deloria that marvin was their with his gaye friend. perhaps they will die for their sins. they then booked out of there and drove away in an alexie. when asked if we could catch up with them, my buddy said "sherman" however, i just wanted to go homo because that is where the heart is, so i said "let's get's out of queer" and we left.
the local paper reports that we can now "tour the moon on the web." however, if you do, there will be a warren for your arrest. they have already arrested sally, who was hemings and hampton hawesing throughout the interrogation. nasa has set up the site, but nasa, i don't want to go on it. is there nothing sacred anymore? is everything for john sayles, including my casa, and my planet? by the way, i went over bill's house with eddie and he made a keach. you have to planet if it's going to come out well. i was treated nizer by frank than i was by bill, so i knocked on nick wood, and said i guess i'll lesbian my way. there were times i bit off more than i could chew but through it all when there was no diggity no doubt on the radio, i composed myself and arranged to perform at symphony hall, but i had a sore throat and had to take a hall's cough drop and spit in the bucket. i was paid 500 buckets for the show, but the show was peter panned as garbage, a throw away. afterward, i recycled back to my glass house and saw nancy stone rooting for the colorado rockies. then i remembered that i had to get my diamond back from jim, who is slim but strong.
well, i must be getting back to "work" soon. in biology today, the students have to do a powerpoint on something that is destroying the earth, like acid rain and pollution. left out of the things they could choose to do were war and the corporate theft of the world's resources. and they say that you should never talk politics in school. everyday that politics are not discussed, this is a silent scream of consent for the status quo, ie war and corporate theft. and i will be there, "earning" my 13.40 an hour.
fuck school, long live education.