a mix tape:
prometheus' - arcadia magik
playing in the background
while listening
to david hoffman's:
what 1958 HS students felt their
future would be like...

with all that youth... beckoning...
ready to be exhausted...
i don't even think i contemplated...
or was asked...
off from one hamsterwheel of
secondary school grade education
into the treadmill of third tier
grade education...
and even then...
well... i managed to play
a decent game of squash...
shit out a decent historical essay...

did i work part time?
i wish... a stint in a nightclub...
i quit after this one incident
of cleaning out the toilets...
of toilet implies:
the place where people
forget to piss... into the toilet...
but instead tend to piss
into empties beer bottles
and leave them to stand on
the rim of the toilet...

whatever the grievances
of the jewish or arab deity with
the pig he created...
a hog would treat me better...
seriously... a pig would treat me better
than this cattle...
and then being assaulted by
a horny gay lord cunt,
cornered into a cubicle...
now that i think about it...
i thought about being employed...
about buying a mandolin...
otherwise?
i wouldn't have thought...

but in 3rd year?
33 hours of both practicals and theory?
a part time job to boot?
university is the worst extension
of high-school...
at least in a high-school environment
you get to bond...
however stupid those bonds are...
they are the least of your concerns
when the working environment
comes to light...

15+ years and my student loan will
be liquidated...
and i'm pretty sure i don't require
more than an 15K annum income
to entertain the monetary laws:
i would be obliged to pay the loan
off if earning above 15K a year...

another mix tape?
joel osteen + infected mushroom's gamma goblins...
the part where ol' joel talks about
jean-paul zee sec-und... about falling
out of an airplane... with or without a parachute...
i never know which...
brick's a brick... whether it sinks of falls...

back to david hoffman's typescript overlay of
prometheus' arcadia magik...
the youth of 1958 were as we were
circa 2002... we didn't know what
we were being fed...
tony blair's education education education...
ah! jeez! just missed...
iraq, afghanistan... libya and syria...
must be problematic doing
favors for the saudis, eh?

the smart ones / the "dumb" ones...
left school aged 16... became trades people...
the rest of us? debt riddled...
zombies... can you imagine how hard
it is to look for a job to simply clean the streets
via the internet?
i'd love to sweep them...
i'd take lunch with Kant...
but even that is... "lost"...
what remains?
apparently there are jobs available
like hot-cross buns... like salted beef bagels
from Brick Lane when the pundits congregate
from clubbing on a Friday morning...

and the professions when:
what you know, is more important that who you know?
em... surgeon? airline pilot... crane operator...
i wouldn't be too sure on the lawyer scenario...
lawyers and the rest of the ruffian gang...
they expect objectivity from poets, intellectuals,
philosophers...
yet god help them...
if i've ever seen a more subjective
brood of people: i'd tell you!
might as well learn the fucking thesaurus
off by heart and you're bound to become
the most exceptional lawyer!

from the hoffman sample of 1958...
i guess we share the same ambitions...
however undecided we are at the beginning -
we are all decided upon the end:
to grow old enough to assert osteoporosis /
dementia...
or other pains...
what a sour ambition...
60 or so years from now...
we'll still be the same...
give us a mechanical profession...
let us daydream, and gravitate toward
settling into old age:
from when it was a chimney fire...
to now being daytime television...

risk of writing mediocre verse?
sure... democracy chokes any aspiring voice...
talented? no really... rhyme-fuelled?
god forbid...
but as bukowski said:
the stupid are filled with audacity...
the intelligent are filled with doubt...
i can't relinquish thinking from doubting...
scaring myself with a minor phobia
once in a while when my thinking clings
to an impeding certainty...

thought is mere architecture...
subsequently philosophy -
sophistry / the alias of rhetoric?
the traffic of those "things" crafting
avenues and roundabouts of meat junctions
of life...

and those "running this shitshow"?
they're not geniuses...
they are simply the most convinced
of the whole lot of them in their quest
for stretching the rubber-band of audacity...
they are not doubtful,
since they are not prone to thought,
and since they are not prone to thought...
they are an inverted precipitation
of what thinking could allocate itself
as a translation into being -
which it does not, nor ever will...

to seek the one most sought after
ambition in life as one that concentrates
itself upon growing old...
and if you're so much into it...
to have to guarantee a legacy...
a pedigree...
what a profound investement
to aspire to!
oh but they are the smart ones...
i can't remember the last time
i saw a homeless person not equipped
with a book!
they are the smart ones...
it's so easy to outsmart smart people...
you just nibble on their good nature...
idiots are good by chance...
smart people are good by a fixed
ontology that's derived from:
what stupid people deem offensive
to their intelligence: god...

of god: it's not something i want,
it's not something i need,
it's not something i pray to or pray for...
it's something that i can't erase...
it's something i can't get rid off...
it's like a parasite...
almost...
i guess all of us with a vague
notion of "god" are deemed equivalent
to children, deluded...
after all... didn't this or that atheist
call god a delusion?
and thus sits the replica
of st. peter on the throne of the vatican
and no one even bothers to check him
into a local asylum!

stupid people are smart,
smart people are dumb...
that's just how the world works...
without all the added adjectives...
after all...
only an idiot wouldn't miss an opportunity...
and most intelligent people:
miss opportunities...
i missed my first,
when i could have married into money,
i missed my second,
when i could have married into money a second time...
1 pauper man vs. 2 rich daddy's rich girlies...
phoomp!
scalped me, and that it did...

grew a beard began a career as
an j. d. salinger replica enthusiast...
beside foxes, sparrows...
and the remaining list of
snow white's miscellania interaction hit-list?!
i tried talking to a pancake once...
stuttered with every flip...
didn't say a word... the melting butter
began the awkward conversation
between me it and chew...

it's a bit like looking at english sexuality:
the whole sex sexy sex "thing" they associate
with post-voyeurism -
the sadism of having to be made to feel
guilty... to be caught...
to have an impotence while "armed" with
an erect phallus...
i swear this is the basis of anglo-saxon sexuality...
to have an erect phallus...
wishing to be caught like a school-boy...
to hide a "naughty" act...
to have an erect penis while at the same
time acting out a secret harbor fantasy
of being turned into an impotent oyster!

sorry... this is "too complex" for me
to understand...
so i guess all those good...
25 years (i had a good think
about this arithmetic) of living among
the anglo-saxons... is gone to waste...
they're not the sort of men that
want to feel a chastisement mid-stream
of a decent fuck...
they know they're being watched...
but what they are really expecting,
for all ejaculation purposes, is to be cought...
the Eton Sex Syndrome...
i guess the gay surprise just...
fizzled out...

in terms of god:
no... not a c.c.t.v. extension...
not so pie in the sky...
get yer sieves out... spaghetti monster in the sky
floats, about...
wow! such imagination
with regards to something without form!
no... it's more akin to...
i wish i could get this "thing" outside
of my head... i really do!
if you could pickle my brain in a jar...
and replace the void in my head with
something that could coordinate
my transexual fixation of coordinating a ballet
chorus of dancers from swan lake?
i'd be happily more willing than you:
to oblige the transer of "realism"!