Hookers or Cake

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Please take 10 secs to watch this vid. Tis a declaration of my love for thee.

Warmest Regards - Hookers or Cake

Tommy Jarrell at the age of 82 playing music on a porch somewhere… maybe in the bright shining heart of all things. Jump to :55 if you are impatient to hear Tommy sing a sweet melody.

“If I get drunk and I get drunk

just let me fall little darling on the ground

on the ground - on the ground

just let me fall little darling on that ground.”

I guess you could blame the end of the world on the guy who sells flowers on the corner of Rock Island & 12th. $5 a bunch. Velenzuelan gentleman in his 50’s maybe 60’s. I barely noticed as he lost his mind over a period of time. It was funny at first, he’d have little conversations with the flowers and then for a while he’d just sing to them but that gave birth to the screams.  He just walks up and down the street screaming at the heavens or flowers or what have you. In fact he’s been screaming for so long now that nothing but spittle and blood come out, no sound.

I bought a bunch of pink azaleas from him about a year ago. They died a week later revealing a slip of paper in one of the flowers. It was an address of an abandoned church. We found the devil inside, he was in the basement folding meat. He looked like he could use some fresh air, so we asked him where he wanted to go. He said he wanted to fall in love, so we took him to the roller skating rink. He said his hearts desire was, “To fall in love with whatever I cannot devour.” The whole thing was a huge damn mess, 57 people died, you probably heard about it on the news.

After the dust settled, a couple days later the devil married an ancient machine that he’d ‘found’ at a nuclear power plant. Actually the baby is due any day now. May god or whatever have mercy on our miserable souls.

Through a Mask Darkly - Batman Rising 

The new Batman movie sucks. Watch the trailers and turn off the soundtrack. You’ve basically got bad kabuki. Its a brilliant concept. Take two splendid actors and cover their faces with masks and then have em yell in giant electrical monster voices. Where’s a Greek chorus when you need one?!

And whats with summer action movies anyway. Has humanity become a fire worshiping cult and no one told me. Am I supposed to masturbate to explosions now? Wow, how did that car turn into a motorcycle turn into an airplane. Why is everything so loud and dark. Can one of the camera’s stay here on Morgan Freeman and we can hang out with him and listen while he reads erotic poetry, instead of watching Anne Hathaway try to be sexy in the all the wrong ways. Can we get drunk with Morgan Freeman instead of being relentlessly bludgeoned by bad political metaphors? It’ll be cheaper and infinitely more rewarding. I promise, unless you’re a a huge fan of loud dull improbable things or one of those fire pervs.

You mean the header on my page? Its an illustration I did of Philip K. Dick for my book. The I Ching in his chest that he used to plot books with, morphing into the duality he believed himself to be ensnared in. The pink light flooding his eyes telling him more about reality than he could ever decipher, though thankfully for us he tried.

They found god in the parking lot. It whispered a few things before it shouted, love and hunger, kisses and murder. It spoke of the endless days of lying hidden in plain sight. A quiet eternity leading to an overpowering moment of awful flashing brilliance. We took a billion pictures of which a few had the same shadow.

The shadow they say is particle of gods semen encased in pocket lint.

Nothing much changed at the Deli though. Joe showed up but Maria wasn’t there, called in sick. A customer sat winking and blinking, opening one eye and quickly closing the other. “Indra is getting sleepy,” he says, pushing aside what was once a plate of flapjacks.

I feel it too, like a blissful silence, waiting for dessert.

Its about our thirst for useful information and how the only truly useful information is completely useless. duh! =)

On my way home from work I saw a woman covered head to toe in blood. She nonchalantly walked out the front door of a house, got in a car, and drove off. I pulled an illegal u-turn and followed her. I followed her down old 29 almost a hundred miles until I ran out of gas. I then walked for about a mile until I was picked up by a pretty girl who drove me to a cafe/truck stop/garage. We shared a delicious milkshake before the tow truck picked me up. I’ve always kicked myself that I never got that girls number. And I never saw the bloody woman again either, even though I went back to the house and looked around. The house was empty and I’ve never saw anyone ever live there.

I always think of it though, whenever I have a milk shake. That bloody woman and that beautiful girl.

Messrs,

I pray I did not offend during my interview with my use of the “C” word. I know in Britain its not quite the foul term it is in America, but I didn’t consider that you being a Norwegian company may perhaps feel different about it. And as always, some people have terms they find discordant and offensive. I assure you gentlemen that I meant no slight to you and yours. I think cunt is a splendid term and perhaps I should define how I use it if I am to be employed by your wonderful company.

For instance, whenever I see a Great White Shark of good size, 5 meters or more, I like to loudly proclaim, “What a great cunt!”

When going for walks or meditating, watching the sun rise or set. I often whisper to myself, “You splendid fucking cunt…”

I always replace the term God with Cunt in my Sunday sermons. “And the Cunt looked upon its creation and said, It is gooood.”

Other times if I find my self despondent and depressed, perhaps I get tired and frustrated and go sit in the backyard under the trees. Sometimes a tear comes to my eye and I think of friends and family gone and how even if all goes wonderfully well, it still all ends in death and tears. But then as I sit the earths hum fills me and I realize that life is completely free and we did nothing to deserve any of it. Even this maudlin Sunday afternoon sadness. Let alone anything as splendid as Great White Sharks, the sun, or sex. We are lucky cunts all.

So please understand that I hold the term ‘cunt’ in the highest regard, but if you still find the term unsettling, or any other words for that matter, please do tell and I’ll arrange for them to be stricken from my vocabulary henceforth.

Sitting quietly eating peaches,

Jade Bos

(Source: triplej18)