it's a stevie wonder i haven't been arrested on a morals charge. as i sit blogging, a man sits next to me wearing a clash t-shirt, and i think to myself...what the fuck am i doing here? are the bad puns really worth 1/16th of my waking existence? and are they james worthy of your time. you could be listening to the drifters sing this magic johnson moment, or you could shoot a jay with some americans at the park. anything but this.
we really are fucked, aren't we?
thanks to dancing with the stars, the revolution will be delayed for at least another year. i heard the average guy in the army (i get my facts from the simpsons, but this sounds about right) makes about 14,000 a year. hey, that's less than me! i feel better already.
where have the male vocalists gone? when your favorite singer since 1970 is alvie singer, you know things are messed up.
started orwell's "down and out with paris hilton and jack london." good so far, although i thought it was wrong of him when he said "hit the road, jack london, and don't you come back no more." at that, jack got down, and went to the hilton in paris, where he listened to jazz with rebecca.
we are trapped in mental prisons of our own production. age, race, gender, class, sexual orientation, nationality. we can't escape these artificial constructs. they are now the only real things in our lives.
we don't need to be raped.
we are too busy fucking ourselves.
we are trapped. the henry louis gates will not open. someone told me to go cornel west, but that won't help either. you can try to keep that tavis smiley on your baby face and that bebe shirt on your chest, but nothing can protect you, for a charlie rose by any other name is still a rose. i am not trying to be stern, i only want to tell you the truth, williams.
each day seems to decrease in value.
i wan once excited by it all.
now, i settle for tolerable.
ah, the wonder of maturity.
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