Hookers or Cake

Where the self-obsessed get serious about silly
I'm too wacky to be hip.

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    • ------------------------------------- How this blog got its name

      ------------------------------------ There was a large painting of Evel Knievel shaking hands with Richard Nixon. It hung in the Mayors office. Late one evening after everyone went home. I took it down to the lab. I zoomed in on Evel’s left eye a 100x and enhanced it. It was an address. I went to the address. It was a modest, 1970’s style, split level ranch home in the suburbs.

      ----------------------------------- Inside I found a dead parrot lying on a waterbed. I revived the parrot with some saltines and adrenaline. We became good friends. The parrots name was Randy. One night a few years later while Randy and me played Gin Rummy, he sang me a song about a fire. The title of this blog was never mentioned but I sensed it, and Randy confirmed it by giving me ‘THE LOOK’.

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          • July 27, 2012 12:56 am
            In the early days, after the Garden of Eden, everyone understood that life was just an infinite pile of shit. Our suffering, a fertilizer for a new heaven. Every now and again a few flecks of gold would shine in. Further investigation by various saints revealed that life was actually solid gold obscured by the feces of ignorance, a species of misidentification. And for a time people were excited at the prospect of removing all the shit from the gold. A purification into heaven, a nirvana they were told. The problem was that sentient life was predicated on the shit. You remove it or burn it away and you kill it, as many a monstrous dictator has since learned. So alchemy was invented, the idea of turning shit into gold, but nothing seemed to work or so we’ve been told. But fear not dear friends for there are great artists and their secrets involve identifying themselves as the actual gold and their medium is human excrement. Tis the creative process of all true art. Of course it all falls apart, but perhaps that’s the most sublime truth in all the happy failures of creation. Leonardo was one such master, painting The Last Supper not in the usual fresco of plaster, but using actual pigments of human shit. He never told anyone, for the pope would’ve had a fit, buried him twelve feet under with the rest of the prophets. The legend says that Christs face was fittingly born by Leonardo using the poop of a virgin. One whose name the whole world remembers still. The Mona Lisa with her shit eating grin Where did the human end and the God begin Time reveals all secrets but so does gin Perhaps its time you stopped praying and rejoice in all this glorious sin.

            In the early days, after the Garden of Eden, everyone understood that life was just an infinite pile of shit. Our suffering, a fertilizer for a new heaven. Every now and again a few flecks of gold would shine in. Further investigation by various saints revealed that life was actually solid gold obscured by the feces of ignorance, a species of misidentification. And for a time people were excited at the prospect of removing all the shit from the gold. A purification into heaven, a nirvana they were told. The problem was that sentient life was predicated on the shit. You remove it or burn it away and you kill it, as many a monstrous dictator has since learned. So alchemy was invented, the idea of turning shit into gold, but nothing seemed to work or so we’ve been told.

            But fear not dear friends for there are great artists and their secrets involve identifying themselves as the actual gold and their medium is human excrement. Tis the creative process of all true art. Of course it all falls apart, but perhaps that’s the most sublime truth in all the happy failures of creation.

            Leonardo was one such master, painting The Last Supper not in the usual fresco of plaster, but using actual pigments of human shit. He never told anyone, for the pope would’ve had a fit, buried him twelve feet under with the rest of the prophets.

            The legend says that Christs face was fittingly born by Leonardo using the poop of a virgin. One whose name the whole world remembers still.

            The Mona Lisa

            with her shit eating grin

            Where did the human end

            and the God begin

            Time reveals all secrets

            but so does gin

            Perhaps its time you stopped praying

            and rejoice in all this glorious sin.


            1. said: I love the ending about the Mona Lisa, that’s fantastic!
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