going there

threw in some lines today about the accused van driver mentioned in the last blog. "i got to say this about him; he was always on time. he was a genius with the turn signals, and he was a very safe driver. he always got you there. i just hope they take that into consideration." i then immediately lapsed into an angry rednecked response. " ahh, you can't joke about a thing like this, you oughta be ashamed of yourself." i got a nervous laugh, and a quick change of the subject.

lenny bruce

"i've always dug playboy, gent, dude, all the stroke mags. you know why i buy them? i like to look at the chicks man! i don't need a nelson algren short story for rationalization."

"the main attraction in vegas? tits and ass." "ah man, that can't be all." "well, they throw in a tango dancer for rationalization, but basically, it's tits and ass."

" i can't believe this guy became a child molester. he had such a religious upbringing." "they all do. and now, he's gonna have to pay the dues for it."

carver showed a picture of a soldier from ww1 with his face blown off. this set him off again. "this still happens to soldiers now, but we don't support them." hey, look buddy, i didn't send this guy half way around the world to get his face blown off, so don't get pissed at me. besides, if you are so against faces being blown off, shouldn't you be anti-war, not supportive of those fighting them? as a student said in the class "nobody forced them to go, they signed up."

support the troops? you know what i say?

fuck the troops. i'd give a pimp a medal before i gave one to a soldier.

well, what's worse, sex or war?

my dad met manny ramirez yesterday. manny was sampling free food at a whole foods yesterday, when my dad went up to him and said "i just want to shake your hand" manny shook his hand, and then gave my dad a hug! dad said it was up there with speaking with jackie wilson in his dressing room at pep's in philly, talking to roland kirk at a table, also at pep's, and meeting david "fathead" newman after newman blew a bad set in boston several years back, when pinko was still in beantown. dad said that manny's vibe was awesome, very relaxed, gentle. manny and father of fielding; a couple of good dudes.

running for something

funny how we can't get worked up about war or poverty anymore, but let somebody try to rub up against someone on the train, and all hell breaks loose. because we love the sensational, the individual. and we hate to acknowledge how powerless we are, and just how awful the entire structure is.

give you an example. yesterday, it came out that a van driver in the town of brookline likely molested a special ed. student who rides his bus. teachers and staff were up in arms, everyone was infuriated. the teacher i work for said she hoped the arresting officers "beat the shit out of him." you would think a teacher would be vaguely aware of the concept "innocent until proven guilty." now, granted this is a terrible thing, if true, but why does something like this set everyone off? i've never heard this teacher, or anyone else at the school, say "they ought to beat the shit out of that ignorant patriot who dropped those bombs on defenseless iraqis." maybe she said it when i was out of the room.

something like this satisfies for a number of reasons...

1) it's local. the closer the better. wow, this happened in our town! our drivers are more perverted than your drivers!

2) it allows one an anguish that is essentially conservative. no one (i should say, no white person) expresses nearly the same amount of outrage when a cop murders an unarmed black man. no, because then we might need to address issues like police brutality and institutional racism, and this would mean standing up to entrenched power. not a safe endeavor. no, much safer to berate alleged sexual perverts. this does nothing. the predator has already acted. but, i suppose it does allow us to feel a sort of puritan arrogance. sort of like watching springer..."oh my god, how disgusting! these people are sick!" you don't need to build a social movement in order to feel that way. they are tears without cost, sort of like putting up a holocaust memorial.

3) superficially, it puts you on the side of children. "i care about our youth, unlike this monster." oh yeah, while you teach them lies, while your tax dollars support war, while you stand by and allow yet another generation to be demonized because of their race and class? the fact is, these artificial humanitarians don't give a fuck about children.

4) it creates the good guy vs. bad guy dichotomy. we love that in this country. we are good, the terrorists are bad. christians good, atheists bad. no need to think, no need to question our sick culture which has helped to create more and more sick people. we are innocent, he is guilty. even though there has been no trial. even though the student can't talk. no matter. throw him to the wolves. santiago was his name? probably an illegal anyway! god, you give them work, and this is what you get! oh yeah, it's all connected. scratch a concerned, law abiding moralist and you are likely to find a bigoted asshole.

so yeah, we like our tragedies safe, committed by lone lunatics. oswald, james earl ray, sexual predators, trailer park trash. we like incest and perverts and religious nuts and neo-nazis. it helps to keep our attention away from the war crimes.

as you can gather, i kept my thoughts to myself while the issue was being discussed.

speaking of a crime that won't make the news, george washington carver (the teacher next door, whose last name is carver) started bitching in class today about how apathetic we are in this country while our soldiers are fighting in iraq. "during world war one, we were united. (kept debs and goldman and the sedition act to myself) now, we just go about our business. we ignore it." then, he became crazed. "do you remember how you felt on september 12th, 2001? (i didn't have the heart to tell him that the students were around 9 years old then. besides, at that moment he looked like hitler after a bad date) i do. i wanted to kick some ass. i told a friend that if you aren't in america, we are coming to get you. i wanted to blow everything up." the class got quiet, looked around. i sneared. he got control of himself, and switched gears, bringing it back to ww 1.

no one will talk about this. no one will say "he ought to get his ass kicked." no one will say this man should be taken off the streets, and never be allowed to come close to a child for as long as he lives. for you see, the real predators are making it. the real predators are doing just fine.

welcome to the jungle.

as the world burns, george

i say goodnight, gracie, because there but for the gracie of god go i. yes, the world can not b free of us. it is a long shot if we will make it. i was talking to my brother about it and said, "well at least i don't have a carmichael." woman, i realize that i am prone to excess, but i will not take the destruction of the earth lion down. i prey things will turn around. if i had it in my black power to improve things, i would, but when the u.s. government decides to drop the h bomb, it will be a rap for all of us. and no one will care what pi equals, or if apples are better than oranges, or that brown recorded for king records. for, when x marks the spot, their will be more than a little damage, and we will not live happily evers after. all will be dead, from those with a pinko huey to the seales that bobby and weavers in the seeger. so, goodnight irene. irene on me when you're not darryl armstrong, so you won't withers away. but, in the end, you will, george, so why should we beet around the bush tree? death awaits.

idea for a show; herr and her. a teenager named herr has the run of a house, and several girls compete to win his love. herr and her. kind of grows on you. like a wart.

80 percent of americans still believe in the devil. i knew that 80 percent believed in angels, but at least they are positive. devils? well, some have been seen playing hockey in new jersey.

the celtics are on the roper. i give them two tom thumbs down. if only the series was shorter. in any case, it is tied ju-ju. if lebron plays like the real mccoy and not like an average joe, i think the cavs elvin the series. ron, at least carter isn't on their team. that woud drive me vinsane for ryan out loud.

there is a bird inside me. i had turkey for lunch. hope i don't chuck it up. maybe i'll go for ham on rye next time.

women; they are half the planet.

i'd rather be here than at the post office.

a terrible earthquake has hit china. about 10,000 have been reported dead so far.

40,000 people die every day of starvation. this has not been reported so far. i looked for it on tv and in the papers. nothing. no one seems to care about this, other than the ones dying that is, until someone describes the deaths as a "holocaust." than people get upset, for nothing can be compared to the holocaust. but isn't that how a lot of the people died in the camps? weren't they starved to death? so, it's like this; when the world develops an economic system which murders millions of people each year, this is unfortunate, but not a crime, especially when most of those dying have dark skin and no money.

everything is bullshit. everything. well, maybe not taking a shit.

bye bye, ms american pie, violence is as american as you.

that's a rap.

to be young, of average talent, and jewish

i suppose there is no book with this ya title. perhaps a book such as this could unitas, johnny, from the fields of joe montana to the mean streets of philly, joe jones. perhaps this book would be good for the young, steve, as well as for those who are 49ers and 76ers. the book would also include lyrics to old tunes, such as "houston rockets, warren moon shots, spend it on, the have nots." if someone had the flintstones to print such a book, i believe many people would have a gaye old time reading it.

perhaps, a jet, son, could get us into kevin spacey, but it would costas plenty, bob. than we could make a movie of it and we could watch it in our denzels. maybe we could get funding from washington? we could darwin a spot on prime tv. it would be a natural selection. we would title it "the origin of feces." a shit title perhaps, but we have a crap budget. we could film on location in newton.

the film would bart starr atom sandler, and would be written by eve ensler. lamar would make a guess appearance, since he odom alot of money. well, he is a real gasol anyway. he thought he could cut it as a farmar, but his crops were overrun by the river jordan. that's the problem with planting by a nearby laker. well, the next time the guy goes to bynum a house, maybe he'll think twice about the locale. or, one could become a boozer. hey, it's better than driving a carlos what with gas being up to 4 bucks a gallon. jason, they have got to be kidding us with these price mark ups. it is enough to make a man nash his teeth, unless one has stocktons in the gas companies. but, in this system, dwayne, i suppose one has to wade through the garbage. and beyond gas, tony, we often have to pay to parker the antoine carr as well. the thing is jason, i don't have the williams to drive in such a society. i would bettis you anything that you are better off taking a bus or an l trane in today's world.

in the lakers game yesterday, kobe only seemed to be hurt when he had to get back on d. on offense, he felt good enough to take 34 shots. there was one play where he missed a shot, went down when he didn't get the call, forced his team to play 4 on 5, allowing utah to score, but then, when the lakers had the ball again, he had the energy to take the bill to the rim and score! if someone is injured, they are injured all the time, not just on the defensive side of the ball! fuck kobe.

i am tired of being taken for cary granted. by the way, what will they try to bag obama on next? that he once watched a r rated film when he was 15?

that cyclone has been in the news lately. i say we ban the song "shake it like a cyclone" until that situation clears up. seriously, with cyclones and earthquakes and hurricanes, you wouldn't think that we would create more disasters. it makes you realize the whole thing is so arbitrary. 10,000 people just got killed because they happen to live in an area that experienced a natural disaster, as i sit here blogging, very much alive. makes me think of carlin. "if there is a god, maybe, just maybe, he doesn't give a shit." for, where is the "divine plan" in a cyclone? i remember an uncle of tixon's bemoaning the fact "that those people in india who died in that earthquake didn't have time to find jesus." of course, that disaster mainly struck indonesia, but sadly, the religious among us seem just as ignorant when it comes to geography. perhaps that is why they died? you see, they were heathens, thy didn't "know" god. perhaps this explains 9/11, katrina, all the wars. well hey, the old testament god was one violent son of a gun, so why not? just think, katrina as part of a "divine plan," just part of "god's will." so, let's just throw up our hands. don't feed the hungry, for it's god's will that people starve. fascism meets religion. come to think of it, they have gotten along pretty well over the years. now, of course, we have had our share of great religious men and women as well, but proof of the good doesn't wash away proof of the bad. i am tired of religious, no, all pomposity and arrogance. jesus saves? tell that to a guy whose ribs are protruding. we fight for freedom? tell that to a guy whose house is being bulldozed. if you want to ignore suffering, go ahead, but don't disguise your indifference with religion and capitalism.

but, of course, in the end, it's just jobs. if i can hustle, why not hustle on the up and up? if i can sell, why not sell the lord, or "operation enduring freedom?" it's no secret that the greatest hustlers in the world are the legal hustlers, the peddlers of christ and war.

the greatest hustlers in the world are the legal ones. someone should tell that to the prison guards.

ah, they wouldn't hear the message. when your job is dependent upon you being deaf, you don't hear. it's a simple as that. and that is the issue. our jobs, our system in general, are dependent upon our collective blindness and deafness.

peace, helen keller.

ode to pinko

i may have to go to a hospital ward for laughing my brains out at the stuff you put on my blog. if it gets serious, please go to a churchill and pray for me. at this time, i throw myself at the lord, who is currently on vacation in the hamptons. i plead to him "forgive me, for i have zinned. i should have gone to howard university, but i couldn't spellman. since then, i have bin laden with guilt, and even the immortal technique of john coltrane often doesn't get me to my destination. i want out. if only i could make a mclean break of it. don't you see doctor, i've had my phil. i want to escape into the woods. if i only had an alto acre of land that i could mark up and call my own. but alas, i am akon man, and i am lonely, mr lonely. i need to stitt down and gather my thoughts, as the sonny shines crissply down on me. and as i look up, i notice that a raven has flown onto my screen and broken it, but i am too poe to replace it."

yes, i have an on again, lonergan relationship with kevin, my coworker. i either hate him or courtney love him. there are times i want to throw sanders in his face. and then i remember pinko who had the will, son, to post a tune by wilson. man, what will he cooke up next? that shit was cole blooded, fit for a king james, and every time i am brown in the dumps, i lebron on these songs and dr. feel good. i think about what you are trying to do me, and i feel a sense of freedom, of respect, and i say a little prayer for all the stevie wondrous things out there in the world, which is a far cry from what most people do. yes, you are a ray of sunshine in a world gone dark, as the rivers charles remains dirty, and all i do is cry and joan about it, when what i should do is get out of the johnny and alert a secret agent man over what is happening. but alas, he would likely shoot an edwin starr, and a war would start, destroying my 25 miles davis albums, and leaving angela all alone to speak in a german accent which is not germane to the topic. well, we will all be french toast someday, fried like the chicken we have all become, for unless we are egged on by the roar of the greasepaint and the smell of the crowd, we sit on our learned, dead, hands. and while others may dance the charlton, moses dancing won't help you, michael nunn. it won't even help you win a james toney award, or to get a guess spot on the joe frazier show. perhaps i should just give up on the dream, and become a foreman, but by george, i want moore, archie moore. bob, i can not theile a lie, even when i have the impulse to do so. that would be rudy, and people would take weinstock of my action. and yet, right now, a fickle sonance plays within me, as i grab jackie's bags and milt under the pressure, jackson. i pick up the vibraphone, but the operator says that will be 10 sense. i give her my two cents, but she calls me crazy. i de-cline to be a patsy, so i hang up and go out walking round midnight for miles in search of a pay phone. i waste all davis, so i take the coltrane home, eventually returning to my chambers but not after robbing peter to pay paul, who works for the train. i saw a max roach on the tracks, and realized that if i were buddy rich, things would be different. what kind of fool am i? i thought. what kind of shelly manne is this, what do i know of the good life? once upon a time, i thought that if i ruled the world, things would be different. well, some will say that the best is yet to come. i can only bob hope they are right, but i fear that i will be george burned yet again by life. i gleason to them, but i think to myself, life is no lucille ball when you have a little richard. that was a berle of wisdom, wasn't it? nothing like a little milton to wash the blues away from this bobby bland existence. so, the next time your robert johnson gets soft, and you feel that you can't get a woody guthrie, perhaps you will seeger what i mean. for now, i will drag my leadbelly away from this raven screen.

sonny, i am through.

shadow play

the town of brookline voted to extend the school day an extra 2 hours a week starting next year. 4 of the days will be 20 minutes longer, and 1 day will be 40 minutes longer. man, i found the 6 hour day, and they went and took it from me. these residents are under the illusion that a longer school day is a good thing. many people in our society still seem to think that an institutionalized education is a good thing. in truth, it is far inferior to free time, and the personalized education that develops from people having free time. when do i listen to jazz? my free time. when do i take walks? my free time. when do i read? my free time. extending the school day is a waste of money for the tax payers and a further murdering of young people's lives. it gets back to the job of education, which is to train young people to fit into the existing society. this is the problem. a true education would train people to locate the extent of society's problems, and would stress the necessity of combating those problems before it is too late. furthermore, true education is inner directed. i listen to jazz because i like it, not because i have a class on it for 50 minutes a day. i read a book because i want to, not because a paper is due next week. education in our society, like work, is dictated to us. we are forced to do it, obligated to engage in a curriculum that is already in place and that has nothing to do with our interests. to some extent, this is corrected in college, but by then, the joy of learning has already been killed for most americans. so what do we do? we do more of the same! we make the school day longer, we give more homework, and we create more standardized tests. we are driving down a one way street, and we have concluded that the smartest thing to do is drive straight into the wall. so, now two hours of my life have been taken from me. if i'm hired back next year.

went on a job interview yesterday. as soon as i saw the guy interviewing me, i knew i was in trouble. you know the type. slick, short hair, mustache without a beard, dress shirt tucked in, generic cotton docker pants, white as a ghost, air of arrogance, as if he was born to be in charge. he sits down, takes a look at my resume. "well, i see you have been at brookline for a long time" ie "you have been a fucking low wage paraprofessional for ages! don't you have any ambition?" i thought of many replies... "how long have you been at your job?" or "yeah, you know why i'm still there? because i hate going on dumb job interviews." they talk to you like they know you. they judge you, they think they can sum you up based on a piece of paper and a couple of short replies to stupid questions that they have stolen from a "conducting interviews for dummies" book. these arrogant mediocrities with their meaningless power, they think they mean something. well guess what, fuckheads? the poisoned air, water, and food, and the falling bombs, will get you to. just watch. and your stupid white privilege and petty power and dress shirts and elitist arrogance will do nothing for you. for you see, a pine box doesn't play favorites, and in the end, the masters of war will also be murdered.

so, i am still jobless for the summer. the interview is a crime against our collective individuality and sense of self. think about it. you are on the auction block. you are being eyed, sized up. are you worthy? should you be hired? what do you have to offer? in that moment, you are like all the others. shirt tucked in, hair combed and washed, generic docker pants. you feel like a sell out, even though nothing has really happened, but you know. you know that the whole thing is evil and that you are a part of it. "come in, take a seat. can you close the door behind you? so, tell me a little about yourself...." man, what a bullshit structure we have created.

random thoughts and observations.

the culinary teacher was wearing a che guevara t-shirt today. he thought che was from mexico. someone told him he was from argentina. he said "mexico, argentina, same thing." when the guys who think mexico and argentina are the same thing are wearing che shirts, it makes you yearn to see more alligator shirts. but it's like what lenny said about making the marches. to paraphrase, the squares are marching now. more deeply, it shows the true face of consumer culture. che? nice shirt. he's that cool looking guy with the angry look on his face. don't know where he's
from, or what he did, but hey, it was on sale. stupid white cooking teachers.


great pic, pinko. disney was a right wing fascist, so it works on a number of levels. signed, daffy duck. sorry, donald. excuse my goofy behavior, which is more like that of a being from pluto than a human being.

a white kid who is down with the blacks went up to a teacher and asked for a buck. the teacher said no. the hip hop cracker said "you let that white kid borrow a dollar yesterday! that's racist!" now, we have had these white guys pretending to be black for a while, but what gets me is that they are starting to think they are actually black. interesting. funny, but to my knowledge, not one of these guys has been unjustly killed by the police. the cops, it seems, still know who is who.

even if no one else does.

for example, today n, a male student, claimed that he had hot flashes.

on that note, (high c, which i will drink) good day.

something tells me

i shouldn't click on a blog whose title is "sperm bank."

why is it that everytime i'm watching a game, some stupid guy in charge of the sound system puts harry belafonte on? daaaaaaaaaaaaaaayo! and of course, the mindless zombies in the crowd have to repeat it.

i must be getting really bitter, but it seems to me that there is no such thing as perfect weather anymore. i go from too cold to too hot.

i used to wonder, was i an anarchist, a socialist, a communist, a social democrat, a democratic socialist, an anarcho-communist? i finally realized that i am an angry, alienated asshole. since then, i feel much better.

alot of liberals are concerned that obama and hillary are fighting each other too hard, that democrats need to unite. this struggle is supposedly "bad for america." funny, but i don't recall these people saying that polluted water, cancer causing food, and bad air were harmful to america. they don't seem to be too concerned about "the war on terror" or the murder of innocent people by the police. but this is a problem. they are beating each other up, and this will make it easier for mccain in the general election. punks.

today,eddie, my socially fucked coworker, said "why do we even have unions anyway?" i guess we still have a few admirers of the 14 hour day out there. man, the ignorance.

today, we live in a everyman for himself culture of disconnected, greedy, selfish idiots who have no conception of class struggle. othr than that, they are charming souls.

remember that book, all souls? well, how could a guy write a book about every soul? as soon as it was published, it would be out of date.

"more than any other time in history, man faces a crossroads. one path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. the other, to total extinction. let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly."

woody allen from "my speech to the graduates" published in his book "side effects."

bertrand russell on man, from "an outline of intellectual rubbish" taken from "unpopular essays"

"is he not an individual of the species homo sapiens? alone among animals, he has an immortal soul, and is rational. he knows the difference between good and evil, and has learnt the multiplication table. did not god make him in his own image? and was not everything created for his convenience? the sun was made to light the day, and the moon to light the night, though the moon, by some oversight, only shines during half the nocturnal hours. the raw fruits of the earth were made for human sustenance. even the white tails of rabbits, according to some theologians, have a purpose, namely to make it easier for sportsmen to shoot them. there are, it is true, some inconveniences: lions and tigers are too fierce, the summer is too hot and the winter is too cold. but those things only began after adam ate the apple. before that, all animals were vegetarian, and the season was always spring. if only adam had been content with peaches and nectarines, grapes and pears and pineapples, these blessings would still be ours."

i wonder if it was a granny smith. if so, he really messed up. well, up and adam till the eve comes.