Monday, October 26, 2009
Tabernacle
They got steeples, saints and holy water. I never noticed the ark which contains the sacrament. I am impressed with this lock box of wafers and wine. RIP Jimmy Oneill.
Farnsworth, the district health officer, was a man so grudging in what he asked of life that every win was a loss; yet he was not without certain plodding persistence of effort and effectiveness in his limited area.
Cities of the Red Night, William S. Burroughs
I cannot decide if it is the way the sentences are constructed or it is hearing Burroughs lilting tough guy delivery in my head or the portrait of self deprecation, but I am hooked.
The first chapter is jam packed with drugs, drunken clergy, exotic disease , rough terrain and our hero Farnsworth. Farnsworth is on a mission which finds him roughed up on a raft near his destination at the end of the first chapter. The writing is brillant a real page turner. Then as I suspected the chapter ends in a rough sodomy. Shit. Check please.
I mean everyone knows Burroughs is a homo. That fact would not have any bearing in my interest, but homosexual sex shows up in a story I cannot continue. Intellectually, I know it is shallow. Think about how much great literature I am missing. I would feel much better with a censored edition.
Cities of the Red Night, William S. Burroughs
I cannot decide if it is the way the sentences are constructed or it is hearing Burroughs lilting tough guy delivery in my head or the portrait of self deprecation, but I am hooked.
The first chapter is jam packed with drugs, drunken clergy, exotic disease , rough terrain and our hero Farnsworth. Farnsworth is on a mission which finds him roughed up on a raft near his destination at the end of the first chapter. The writing is brillant a real page turner. Then as I suspected the chapter ends in a rough sodomy. Shit. Check please.
I mean everyone knows Burroughs is a homo. That fact would not have any bearing in my interest, but homosexual sex shows up in a story I cannot continue. Intellectually, I know it is shallow. Think about how much great literature I am missing. I would feel much better with a censored edition.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Monday, October 05, 2009
Costello, Helm, Thompson, Toussaint and Nick Lowe on on stage
Producer,"Do you want to see Elvis Costello, Levon Helm, Richard Thompson, Alan Toussaint and Nick Lowe playing TOGETHER?" Asked the aptly connected folk rock producer and co-worker.
Me,"Where,when and how much?
Producer,"Apollo Theater (10 subway stops way), tonight, free!"
Me, "Are you freakin' kidding me", I respond.
Producer, "just take this piece a paper to the will call window, be in line before 7:45 and don't dress like a schmuck."
Me, "fine, Are you going?
Producer, "umm well yeah but I've got to go into a special entrance."
Me, "I see"
Kicking the gong around
It was down in Chinatown,
All the cokies laid around,
Some were high and some were mighty low;
There were millions on the floor
When a knock came on the door,
And there stood old Smoky Joe.
He was sweatin', cold and pale,
He was lookin' for his frail,
He was broke and all his junk ran out;
Nobody made a sound,
As he stood and looked around,
And then you hear old Smoky shout:
Saying, "Tell me where is Minnie?
My poor Minnie!
Has she been here,
Kicking the gong around?"
"If you don't know Minnie,
She's tall and skinny,
She gets her pleasure
Kicking the gong around!"
[Scat chorus]
"Just tell her Smoky Joe
Was here and had to go."
And as he departed,
The curtains parted,
And there stood Minnie
Kicking the gong around!
Saturday, October 03, 2009
Friday, October 02, 2009
Joni has to pee
I am waiting to change from the F to C train at Jay street. Despite my tardiness for work, I am quite content sipping my large Mudd coffee and listening to a Joni Mitchell song on my Blackberry. Twenty minutes go by and I notice a hippie cougar with a flannel shirt and gray down vest, the first I've seen this season. I am amused at the coincidence of the song and the cougar.
It's all quite pleasant until I notice a very expensive looking hard black suitcase with wheels by her side. She then abandons the luggage and a voice inside my head says, if you see something say something. Could this hippie cougar really be some off the grid terrorist? With alacrity, I step ten paces away from the beauty product bomb in Joni's suitcase.
Now Joni is making her way to the trash can in the middle of the platform. Is she reaching for the remote which will trigger the explosion? No, it's a 32 oz. paper cup with a Pepsi logo. I am overcome with relief. She isn't a terrorist at all -she's a crazy homeless person. Phewww.
But wait, now Joni is unbuttoning her jeans. With great concentration, she furtively jams the cup between her legs. Joni has to pee. I am empathetic having had a spastic colon condition when I first came to NYC. It would always kick in on the subway where bathrooms did not exist. I wonder. Is this physically possible. Can a woman, in the best circumstances, pee in a cup standing? I do not have Our Bodies, Ourselves handy.
Luckily, the train arrives and I hop on. As the A train pulls away from the station, I watch the dark blue cloud as is expands on Joni's jeans.
Luckily, the train arrives and I hop on. As the A train pulls away from the station, I watch the dark blue cloud as is expands on Joni's jeans.
Red Book
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/20/magazine/20jung-t.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=red%20book&st=cseA must......................
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)