AM Earworm Funky stylee

It was either Wilson Pickett’s - Land of a Thousand Dances or Patti Smith’s - Horses.
Either way it was at the part that says “do ya know how to pony? Like Boney Maroni.
Can ya twist a twist-a? Jus’ like yer baby sistah?” Then it did go in to the na na na na na part but I’m not sure if that was pure reflex or conscious intervention because by then both songs were playing simultaneously full tilt.

Local Lurkers

It occurs to me, through looking over my stats, that there are quite a few lurkers who show up fairly consistently from here or very near here. This leads me to think that the likelihood is good that you know me but apparently don’t have anything to say to me?!

Now I’m not talking about you folks I know- Nitro, Radiolady, Nigel, T.Coccomotion et al. my sister, Dali etc. I know who all of you are and when you show up.

But what is up with this? I expose myself to your scrutiny but you don’t feel like saying hi? Hmmphh not very neighborly if you ask me.

My social theory is that if I like what someone is doing enough to come back even semi-regularly or if I think the likelihood is good that I’ll meet them eventually at a club or a party, I comment at least once or twice just to give them the opportunity to stare blankly at me when I introduce myself to them by saying archly “I’m Stella”.

I know I have not completely kept up with my pact to respond politely to each and every comment, this is a failing on my part and I will try to be better about it, but in the meanwhile why don’t some of you lurkers give the rest of us something to talk about for once.

And into the home stretch

When I go back tomorrow finals start. Seems like I just finished midterms. Oh wait that’s because we JUST finished midterms. Fuck it seems like it never ends. So I’m being a fairly good kid and trying to stay abreast as it were. I’ve basically completed two major projects either on time or ahead of time and only have two more major projects and a recital to complete by the eighteenth, both projects I am starting as soon as I finish this and read the Sunday paper.

I am tired though. Still sick and just really over it all. Next semester will be tough (math again) so I need to be rested and ready. I’m already ready already for winter break. I need more sleep. Apparently cats don’t believe in people sleeping, only themselves.

Reprint of a reprint

Thanksgiving Prayer

Written and delivered by William S. Burroughs, 1986.


For John Dillinger
In hope he is still alive

Thanks for the wild turkey and the Passenger Pigeons,
destined to be shit out through wholesome American guts —

thanks for a Continent to despoil and poison —

thanks for Indians to provide a modicum of challenge and danger —

thanks for vast herds of bison to kill and skin, leaving the carcass to rot —

thanks for bounties on wolves and coyotes —

thanks for the AMERICAN DREAM to vulgarize and falsify until the bare lies shine through —

thanks for the KKK, for nigger-killing lawmen feeling their notches,
for decent church-going women with their mean, pinched, bitter, evil faces —

thanks for “Kill a Queer for Christ” stickers —

thanks for laboratory AIDS —

thanks for Prohibition and the War Against Drugs —

thanks for a country where nobody is allowed to mind his own business —

thanks for a nation of finks — yes,

thanks for all the memories… all right, let’s see your arms…
you always were a headache and you always were a bore —

thanks for the last and greatest betrayal,
of the last and greatest of human dreams.



(Copped off the brilliant Brett Schutzman site - Maproom Systems - http://www.maproomsystems.org/ As usual I can't manage a hyperlink and I don't link him over there ---> because I haven't met him (yet). I can't seem to get the gumption and the transportation together to ever get over to one of those "beer with bloggers" things in Ypsi. Not that the quality of the blog lately has been up to that par, (you know why I can't get it up). But I really, really like his site and he reminded me of this Burroughs thing I had forgotten about. It sums up one facet of my holiday feelings, especially about "Black Friday".

The Burroughs things I can ever reliably remember are that life is "the ticket that explodes". There are some personal quotes I'll always remember but it suddenly seemed not right to print them here since it was in conversation with a friend of mine who disseminated the most interesting of them.)

Kitten Jell-o

When Nigel stopped over the other day he gave away the secret on another low cost cat toy. We are already overrun with paper balls, they are the cheapest and most favourite ever, but plastic bottle caps are now right up there and can also be picked up and carried in the mouth. Hours of floor hockey fun have ensued and we’ve had to adjust to a new night noise which is bottle caps up and down the wooden stairs.

The kittens also took immediately to the cold gelatinized turkey broth offered them today. What, you thought maybe it was kitten flavoured? It came out cold and wobbly and they found it highly amusing as well as healthful I’m sure, since it’s made from fresh Amish turkey corpse.

More trivia about cats

I never knew, because I never had cats that snuggled before, that two cats stretched end to end take over the whole couch.

Food freaks

I will have to confess to having trained the kittens to eat a weird food. See little Ghee has some issues from having been a runt. She had some deficiencies and is a wool sucker as well. This can be a form of pica. So we started giving them kitten formula to make sure they were getting lots of good nutrition. They loved it and it became a ritual treat. Then after going through a can of the mix for that, I thought “well it’s mostly rice stuff so I’ll just try plain rice milk”.
They love it.
The cats are now officially healthier than me.

A sideways poem by me

(While chatting up Masterbaker at the bakery)

Karma is tough
and death is swift
So get off the pot
or take your shit

Not Jimmy Rodgers

This morning it was the honeycomb song. Not the good old one-

“Honeycomb wont ‘cha be my baby
Honeycomb be my home
got a hank a hair and a piece a bone
makes a walkin’ talkin’ honeycomb”

But the honeycombs jingle-

“Honeycombs big yah yah yah
it’s not small no no no
Honeycombs got a big big bite
Big big taste in a big big bite”

Sigh, I remember
every single fucking jingle

Kalachakra

We are in the wheel of time and time is our boon and our bane.
The action of time on our lives can allow the spaciousness to pull away, to reconnoiter, to see what develops. The issue of time is death. What do we wanna do before death? How much and how little time remains?
This is why washing the dishes with intention is important.
Everyday I go by the river three times going and three times coming and almost every one of the six times I want to get off the bus and go to the water.
Why do I never get to that water?

Another juicy one

The Beatles - For The Benefit of Mr. Kite
As far as I can tell out of pure nowhere. I haven’t listened to Sgt. Peppers for years. I haven’t heard any Beatles lately. But there it was the very second I opened my eyes and my consciousness. Where the hell do these things come from?

A couple days of earworm excellence

Yesterday and today I woke up with very distinct, instantaneous earworms. It’s making me wonder if I don’t provide my own soundtracks to my dreams and the earworms are part of it. That seems like it would be weird because I am not a big part of the movie culture that goes on in the western and parts of the eastern world. So I should have taught myself that every story needs a soundtrack? More likely it’s just an extension of the radio that plays unceasingly in my head when I’m awake. Probably earworms are just what's playing when I wake up and they’re so loud because the external world is so quiet.
Yesterday: Wall of Voodoo - Mexican Radio (which then turned into a very excellent 2 album review of Dark Continent and the first one which I can’t recall the name of. Perhaps it’s just called Wall of Voodoo? Some favourite songs being Lost Weekend, Me & My Dad, Hands Of Love, Animal Day and oh so many more).
Today: Elton John (& Bernie Taupin) - Mona Lisas & Mad hatters. I don’t care what anybody says, Elton John and Bernie Taupin were incredible pop song writers.

I love me some good pop song writers - Don Kirshner, Carole King, Boyce & Hart, Leiber & Stoller, Lamont Dozier and all the millions of others that have actually made the careers of so many canaries who where constitutionally incapable of marrying a sweet riff to a catchy hook but were cute and could be beaten into learning a dance routine.

Suddenly

I really put it all together in my head while moaning about my workload to Jerseygirl and Uncle Bunny, three exams in four days this week. And another paper due next week while resubmitting today the paper I want those extra five points on. Oh yeah, right, it’s midterms.

It’s clear, it’s weird, get used to it

Halloween is my favourite holiday. But I just couldn’t get it up for it it all this year. It started with the usual thinking ahead about what I wanted to carve for the punkins. I just had no ideas. Then the going and getting of big sugar and ritual vegetable matter, I only finally did it on Sunday because it just had to be done. Then all evening last night I needed to do the carving and I couldn’t.

I finally ended up coming home early from school and going into Ginsu mode and got them out with about 15 minutes to spare. I thought about just putting them out whole with the red bell pepper candles next to them, but I have a jack’o’lantern reputation to uphold in the neighborhood.

I ended up with a peace sign and a yin-yang. Pretty cool. Maybe I’ll take pictures tomorrow when the pressure is off. There’s lot’s of candy left. And I finally got to use my perfected challenge to the teenagers who come round:
"If you’re old enough to have ever frenchkissed you’re too old to trick or treat. So in front of all your friends which kid do you want to be? The kid who got lucky or the kid who gets candy?" They invariably pick the latter. But it’s fun for me....
And every single kid has to say “Trick or Treat”.
Oh yeah we demand the proper rules of the exchange be observed.