the bank machine ate my card and i have no id on me, i need money for bus pass etc. have money in account. no acess.

that fight ruined my fun. dinner w. sean and taras wedding and dinner with glenys peter david and grame, a long food fueled three dats of entertainment ruined by one man yelling at how much he wanted me out of his house, and all of my rational arguements about notice and suits went out the window.

trying to gain order and power, a bellicose man yelled at me today, yelled that i was just a boarder, yelled about my sins,. this was the house that i was supposed to get room and board in, and the house where i showered at the uni, did laundry at the laundrymat and ate out to avoid her and him, this was the house i came home at 1 am to avoid them , this was the house where i borrowed the phone and the land lady left notes after every pecadiallo, this was the place where she was rude to my guests, telling them that i wasnt home when i was, this was the house where a cheque bounced under mysterious circumstances, where i broke a window and a bed, where she didnt answer my questions. this is a house where the owner kicked me out two days before christmas, this was a house where i was never sure how but always sure i fucked up. this was a house where i loved the neighbourhood, close to the mall and the library, equidstatn b/w downtown and campus. this si another house i failed at.

also taras wedding then dinner with glenys today. more later.

at home, kicked out. shame.

to make up for it, here is a picture of me holding a two foot dildo

dinner with sean from toronto, he bought me dinner, and a cd (MOMUS TIME LORD, CREATION RECORDS CA 1996, PIERRE ET GILLES COVER, FIVE BUCKS)
wandered arround whyte snapping pics, talking, gossipping. had a good time- met capri on the street. im happy.

i looked at this really nice place today, but its 359 and a share a studio, and a small studio at that. has a pool and a gym, which i will never use, and a study room, which i will never use and a movie theater which i may use.

herb ritts died today at the age of 50, from causes that may be aids related.

i forgot my cds in steves car, which means there wwith tom, which means he has to shuck them arround hells 1/2 acre. i take advantage of that boy.

O Taste and See

The world is
not with us enough.
O taste and see

the subway Bible poster said,
meaning The Lord, meaning
if anything all that lives
to the imagination's tongue,

grief, mercy, language,
tangerine, weather, to
breathe them, bite,
savor, chew, swallow, transform

into our flesh our
deaths, crossing the street, plum, quince,
living in the orchard and being

hungry, and plucking
the fruit.

Denise Levertov 1971

Steve asked me whether i would perfer heaven or a loaf of bread in the context of a larger discussion of the social gospel.
all i thot about was this poem, finally becoming clear.

i know that a quince is good, i have made jam from them
i know that a plum is good, i have written poems about them and admired there dusky glean
i know that crossing the st. to see a friend, to get to my location, to not die from traffic is a daily miracle.
i savor these, chew them and perhaps they have transformed me.

i know that tangerines are good, the blog you are reading is named for them
i know that weather, all weather and its patterns on me, and on the world and the changes they have made are not bad
and i know that grief and sorrow will have comfort, and that langauge sustains me.

i can taste all of this, the sour apple bite of quince, the succulence of plums, my boots on ashphalt, the bitter spike of citrus, the feeling of wind or rain or snow or cold or sun, the coppery stomach ache of grief, all are tangible.

what isnt tangible to me, and perhaps levertov is god
levertov the daughter of an hasid who converted to Anglicanism was caught b/w god and the world,
and so the fevour that creates a will to not only change but encourage others to change thru mass media and propghanda may be confusing.

she could taste and see that all sorts of blessings were good, but the lord was the last great intaglible.
for me too.

i had an arguement with steven on the ride down about trent lott, where i argued that he was an asshole with a long history of racism aand that racism was engrained,while steve argued that he was doing a favour for a mentor, and had not meant to be racist- doing some research i found this :
this

a bunch of people i dont know upstairs, me downstairs listening to momus. they are rich, absuredly rich, yuppies, more money spent on one gift to a cousin then i spent on all of my family. i feel like shit, i dont belong here, this is not me. im ugly and poor and tired of all of this fake jovailty. i hate christmas, i do not like my family. all i want to do is get drunk, furthering my trip to oblivion. i have had heard 5 or 6 homophobic comments in the last three days and hadnt said a word.

this is supposed to be about the birth of christ, but there is nothing religous here, a post modern christmas, done b/c it is expected. a pagan cermony to consumerism and excess. at least the booze is good and free.

drunk at uncles holiday party, havent seen him for 4 years, goods chinese from pink pearl, happy. his art collection is good to great.

in andrews room, at his machine, listening to rufus wainwright, its 4 am, im sick and tired and cold and reading christian apologetics. i need god and i dont want to need anyone.

i got evicted, a long storm brewing, came to head over laundry. im sad, b/c i failed. im angry, at myself and at lorna and at the world.

Balthus and Pierre de Kowassiki(sp) are brothers and both artists, that said the work of Balthus is v. modern-as much as he wants to avoid it- he was a bit heremetic post the surrealists, but you can pick out the dali/magritte/di chircho etc connections, and even if you couldnt, you would time it to the 20th century-its colour and its subtle phrasing, its allusions to terror, its obsession with innoncence.


Kowassiki is different- he made drawings in graphite and colored pencil, tennous delicate things filled with pervisions that seem out of place now- the aristocratic lady lording her power, the fear of clergy, certain scatology, that seems to realted to the 18th century satirists (Swift,Voltaire) and pornographers (Masoch, de Sade, Rosseu and his obsessions with flogging)rather then the 20th century terrors. In fact he illustrated gullivers travels, making it less of a childrens book and more of a piss take.



if you look at Balthus you know he is 20th century, fearful of admitting it, but there. If you look at Kowassiki (whose name ive mispelt)
he is so hermetic that seeing a drawing of barthes or the date 1990 becomes shocking. (Balthus was the better painter techincally for whats its worth, Pierre never got over his awkardness)

jason coates was my sci. teacher, i rember learning alot and forgetting it all- plate techtoncis, weather, he almost failed me. never spanked.

is qouting burton and proust and mailer and mishima, a way to avoid the wds being my own, a way to talk in code ?

after the sjsa christmas concert i met jason coates, i made a point of using his first name.

coates knew me in grade 8, he was kind and handsome in a safe. blonde way and i fell in lust with him, jacking off to his visage, my hard prick a compus, his face colmbus and the new world

he never knew, never did anything, was kind to me, and that was all i needed

seeing him again, in that same white shirt black pants way i felt differently

i dont need to prove myself, cheif fag at pr-cup, presenting a paper in la in august, making money writing, doing well in school- but seeing him- my joy almost dissapted, repalced with an eagerness- for apporval, for love, for him to hug me and tell me it was all ok

he didnt turn me on in the same way as he did when i was 14, it was a proustian memory now, and seeing his wife, with a child, proving to me that his fertility was used as fecundity was moving



i drove by the school coming home from van in nov, someone-not me- corrected my email and added my blog- maybe jason is reading this

no one else was there from my class, even the staff was rare- belton has become an anglican priest, weaver has disappeared to toronto, mcnaugtaun is in coquitlam, gebers in mexico and the man who destroyed me is back in the mideast, where he seems to go every 3 years or so, Richard Burton travelling to Arabia, w/o the anthroplogical exuse



after sjsa, a drink at new city where nirvanna and elvis and the ramones all played on the juke box. and then called daniel-where we went to whyte, she met thomas- called him sedate, which he is/nt depending on the day- old life and new life got along famously, after that sushi at toyko noodle house and books from wee book-sophocles recopmmnded by dana, swifts collected poem, more filthy then gullivers travels and a cub scout manuel which i collect

about the rant against god, i dont know wether i belive it, and really it was a rant against humanity. i am conflicted about man, cynical and angry at its evil, hoping that it will turn out to be good. im lonely and want to retreat from everyone, and this retreat never seems to work. thomas called my signatue tidal, and i feel like that, like the beach who wants to be shrouded by water permantly, to be drowned in it, but just when the drowning becomes comforting, it retreats. i go to parties, and drink so that i can be honest with my feelings w/o lying. i construct defenses, apodt personaes, mishima called his biography confession of the mask and it feels like i am barely taking of the first mask, maybe i will figure it out, maybe it will all be ok, maybe i will learn balance, not the aestic/aesthic pendulum which i swing on, but a genuine love of man and god and myself.

im listening to kristy mccoll singing fairy tale of new york, and im heading south on 12/23 and i dont want to go, i want to be alone, away from god and man, but thats this week.

next week ill be all about humanity.

thinking about the party last night in the sober light of day, i am more ocnfused. wojeck took his clothes off, and did push ups in a room with two other me, me included, i helped him get dressed later, doing his belt up, i rested b/w his knees and he rubbed my back, somewhere arround 5 am, he sober and me drunk, i got a ride home from him, there was a component of eros that surrounded him, and his interactions with me, and another woman at the party, that siad there was something else there, something that moved past eros and into primal grooming-i realized that i missed touch, the after and before of sex, not the actual fucking.

i have a crush on wojeck, a boy i met at the party i am @. he and i pissed in the same toilet bowl , except i got a hardon, and couldnt piss, and then i sat b/w his leg and we got drunk on champers and then vodka and tonnic, passing the bottle together like a drunkard, its like the old joke: "whats the difference b/w a straight boy and a gay bot, ? a 6 pack.

I met with the lds bishop on Tuesday, and then the stake president on Wednesday.
After meeting with the bishop I got loaded, and I stormed out of the meeting with the stake president, calling his religion bullshit, and telling him to fuck it.

Glenys had friends over when I called her, and she asked if they remembered me, and they replied the gay catholic in the pink shirt.

On the day of Our Lady of Guadeloupe, they prayed for “unborn children” rather then those born and hungry, and the fathers and mothers and communities that work towards feeding those who are hungry.

That quiz I took with twenty-five results and each of them not much different from the last.

I was told that I could not receive the gifts of the Holy Ghost, and I am in awe of this world.

God is cruel, and Christ was not the pleasant man we like to imagine and the dependence on both of them as opposed to any other person, as opposed to family and friends suggests he is less then confident.

I am taking a Christian scripture course in the winter, and everyone is so sure of the glories of their god, of their view of god, and me-well I am not even sure I want god around, I am not even sure god exists.

I’m over my nostalgia for the lds church.
I’m tired of the internecine fighting of protestant denominations.
I don’t want to think about catholic churches history and misery.
I don’t want to part of a world where stoning someone for adultery is a good idea, or excommunicating them, shunning them, shaming them.

I have begun to think that religion causes nothing but discord and sorrow.
I want to reject god.

I find myself angry at the cruelty and capriciousness of the lord, or those who call in the lord’s name, and what mailer said about the Shoah and God has come to my head

He told that b/c of the Shoah, b/c of the horrors of man, that there were tow options, either that god was not omnipotent or if he was, then he didn’t care.

It seems such a cliché to be an atheist b/c you cannot reconcile suffering, but I have become exhausted from seeing suffering as a good thing, as a spiritual exercise.

I want the soul to reside in the belly, and not in the head.
There are people who think that all of their blessings come from god and all there curses come from Satan, I don’t want to believe that.

I want to believe that we conquer our animal natures out of necessity
I want to believe that to be human is to conquer our desire towards hatred and anger and violence not because god thinks it’s a good idea, but b/c it is the only thing that makes us human.

I want to tell god, if he exists, if he is alive, to fuck off.
But I cannot seem to do that; he haunts me, like a bad habit, like a craving, like a compulsion,

The Holy Ghost as a specter found in English manors, the guardian angel as stalker.

Leave me alone.
My lord, my god, forsakes me.

And the followers of the lord let my lie.

i dont know what half of these are

Christian Denomations Quiz
My Results
#1 Liberal Quakerism
#2 Eastern Orthodox Church
#3 Episcopal/Anglican Church
#4 Roman Catholic Churc
#5 Unitarian Universalism
#6 Evangelical Lutheran Church
#7 Unity Church
#8 Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod
#9 Methodist/Weslyian Church
#10 Mormonism
#11 Orthodox Quakerism
#12 Mennonite Brethren
#13 Seventh-Day Adventist
#14 Church of Christ
#15 Free Will Baptist
#16 Assemblies of God
#17 International Church of Christ
#18 Jehovah's Witness
#19 Presbyterian Church USA
#20 Southern Baptist
#21 Presbyterian Church in America/Orthodox Presbyterian Church
#22 Reformed Churches
#23 United Pentecostal Church
#24 Reformed Baptist

continuing on tom my favourite list

Poussin

ruscha

thiebald

bonnard,

two blonde boys snog in the latest Xtina video.

http://www.cnn.com/2002/US/Midwest/12/15/cutest.couple.ap/index.html

maybe i needed a boy, then they wouldnt kick my ass and tell me that i needed to go to hell.

Friday
Dinner at Newman :
Turkey, cranberry sauce, taters, strained conversation, me in a tie
I escaped by nine , made it to the gateway shindig-

Took Thomas, I think I needed a babysitter, to prevent the sentimental disaters that occur with me and booze.

Gave 40 bucks and a guest list/ invite text to Dave, who told me that he read my blog- found it compulsiuve and he would give me a print for Christmas.

As the evening progessed found Adam read it off and on since the summer, and had emailed portions to skip the e-i-c.

Its odd to post with an immediacy that is neither spell checked, grammar checked, that is filled with odd abrreavations and fragments.

Its odd to be this personal, and in return this banal.

Art theory, music reviews, religion, sorting things out, public bleeding

I didn’t think people read it- or those ho did lived in England or Belgium or Australia or Toronto

Locals, gateway locals, reading it, enjoying it, worrying about me.

See I didn’t think I was cared about thre, and now I know people hold a certain kind of affection.

I want a memory and I want to havea certain formalism to memory

I had been reading a fair amount of journal and letters collections this year, and the one I feel closest to is Kenneth Tynan- he who worked on polanskis macbeth and olivers hamlet, wrote about those things and also about cocktail parties and spanking girls.

Gossip is information and information is currency, and every writer thinks that everything in his manuscripts and notebooks and journals will be published to great acclaim one day- im taking the next logical step, elimanting the one day.

I’m exhausted of writing daily but Aspergers kids thrive on ritual, I post here because I have posted here.

Its confession, its poetry, think of me as a sideshow, think of me as The Boy Lazarus.


Sunday-
Betrand is returning to Laval, so we had a sugar shack party with maple syrup, crepes, cider, ginger snaps, singing and taking to Terry about his recent completed conversion.

He stills prays like a Baptist and I still pray like a mormon, although the LDSers in this crowd would argue that there is no lirturgy and rote prayer in an LDS service, so there is no set mormon prayers- patterns emerge though.

Monday

Finished Borges on Writing, interesting politics of translation, esp. the fact that he often translated his own work, then worked with another translator- think of Beckett, who moved his own work from French to English, are they separate texts- is there something more pure if the author is involved- is purity the virtue one requires for translation ?

?

rockwell and moses are selling well again, its time for another recession.

i am dressed in a mauve shirt, pink sweater and purple paisley tie, i have black pants on, in one hour and twenty minutes i will be going to the newman club dinner and dance, where i will eat turkey and its accessories and then i will dance, until about 9 pm, where i will go on the bus to toms work, and take him to the gateway party.

chardin

Holbein

saw andrew off at the bus station, and he and i talked over a and w-about jesus, and contempary art and his paper, and a general good day.

a homeless man came up to us and engaged in conversation about the weather, and afterwards christianity- he then asked for 5 bucks, and when andrew gave him 5 ( i didnt have any in my pockets, i spent 20 bucks today and im not sure what on (well 10 for supper, 3 to get into the eag, 3 for a drink at buger baron, 2 for printing, and i have a twonie in my pocket). the guy then asked for 10, i couldnt belive his chutzpah.

andrew then asked me why i hated myself and admitted to discomfort about my queerness, how can i explain the ambguities and complexities of my sexual desire to a boy who doesnt belive in it at all ?

i had been seeing someone quietly and he broke up with me yesterday, and seeing andrew happy going to vancouver, to see the girl he knows hes gonna spend the rest of his life with makes me happy.

from my favourite artists.

post shot warhol

(ie art made after warhol was shot by valerie solanis ca 1967)

agnes martin

agnes martin, post shot warhol, hobein, chardin,poussion, ruscha, thiebald, bonnard, giotto, bacon, balthus, carvarggio, hesse, cranach,hirst, hockney ca. la,hogarth, rivers, johns,twombly, richard prince, kline, krasner,man ray, minor white, le chapelle,adler, cady and kenneth noland,christopher wool,peyton, duher, blake, fra angelico,and il sodomo.

fav artists this week courtesy of ilx

Momus-My Sperm is not Your Enemy
There is debate that this album is not as political as his other work, which confuses me, because Momus is all about aesthetics and fashion and posturing- his Maoists are in fashion and the permanent cultural revaluation is about hemlines- on that note our synth pop Haydn is back, our spooge obsessed Schubert, its old Momus as good as old Momus, and for all of this talk about a new direction and deconstruction, he is more stuck then Madonna. It doesn’t really matter because I’m all about his rakish raspy drawl and his calculated John Wilmot in the 21st Century personae.
There is a coda-all abstract and analogue Commodore 64 and Atari Noises which is much odder, prettier and god forbid American then we deserve. I want to hear the album he makes when the words run out.

nyplm review



Anthony, that coda is more American than the song because it's entirely the work of Adam Bruneau, resident of Dacula, Georgia. You can hear the album he made when the words ran out, it's half of 'Shakestation' by Super Madrigal Brothers, available at www.darlashop.com

momus responds


art party, where the art was evil and the artist was related to the media, so a bunch of unctous olegionous media flacks looking at half landscape half abstract, painted with the skill expected of a spastic monkey.


our lady of gaudleope, with its shades of icons and the workers power, its implications of refuting coloniosm and subverting them was today


had peter for lunch, bought avant noise cds, party invite


this is random, but thomas wanted longer entries.

walked into the barbers today, and got it all shaved off my head, and 3/4 shaved off my face- i am bald w. a goatee/

83 bucks to get to calgary, dont want to go- mostly cause of the money, maybe its cheaper earlier in the yr.

Thinking about Narnia

I was raised on stories that had rape (Snow White), torture (Red Rose, with the red hot shoes), death by freezing (Jack London), bodies transmogrified by nascent surrealism (Alice in Wonderland), beatings (Huck Finn), absentee fathers (Huck Finn), animals of all sorts dying (Old Yeller, Jackie the Cur), frozen legs being chopped off by (Mrs. Mike), starvation (The Little Match Girl), cannibalism (the marzipan heart in Snow White), hidden gardens (The Secret Garden), eyes being pecked out (Cinderella), evil witches, Indian spies (Kim) and all other kinds of mysterious spaces- it was weird and odd and wonderful- it featured more sex and violence, and out there sex and violence -then ever could have been healthy- I loved them all though, and every thing else my mother read me that wasn¡¯t children¡¯s literature (i.e. Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Blake)

Children were not shielded and the world was not happily ever after- it was a cruel place, but a place filled with adventures and secrets- an exciting places. Narnia, which I avoided as a child-does not have any of the mysterious spaces, the sex, the violence, the danger or the subterfuge- there is always an escape route back to the English middle classes. Its also celibate in a really repressed way- In his essay reviewing Norton¡¯s Annotated Fairy Tales, found in the 12/09/02 New Yorker- Adam Gopnik says this:
" ... CS Lewis's Narnia tales uneasily mix an optimistic Christian morality with a darker and more intuitive pagan one... "
Now this is not a bad thing, except that as a folk form the parable and the fairy tale are diametrically opposed- one is about danger and sex, all of the id ridden Freudian black spaces, and one is about safety and celibacy, the super ego imposing order.

The struggle of Narnia is not one of Good against Light in a divine sense-but of form ¨C my early up bringing has lead me to like my children¡¯s lit to maintain the possibility of death, and Narnia doesn¡¯t do that?

In Dante¡¯s Divine Comedy Heaven is dull compared to Hell, writing about joy leads you less adjectives and is more tenuous then the varied unpleasentries found in the Inferno. The same case can be made for Milton- and Blake made it best when he said ¡°Milton was of the devil's party and he didn't know it." ¨Cnot to say that Milton or Dante were into hell as people, their theology leant towards heaven and so did Lewis¡¯s- As well comparing a series of Children¡¯s Novels to some of the best Christian theology is ludicrous- the argument I am making is that Lewis seems to be scared of the muck, of the shit, of the daily effects of sin and life, and so the books are didactic and dull- the strongest passages from a writely point of view deal with the witch and Charon and evil- I mean describing Anslan and as a big pussy cat really has no regal power does it ?

This is matched by elements of low comedy and sudden rescue, much of it seems clumsy and much of it seems like there is a better book coming out of it.

So why do I feel a compulsion to finish it?

asked a question on aristolte, i responded b/c he was a miogynst asshole. i have failed the exam.

have an exam in 30 minutes, stayed up studying, havent been to the class in two months. im fucked.

ATOMIC KITTEN - "The Tide Is High (Get The Feeling) 6

If I was still in high school, and I loved a boy, and it was June, a week before the school year ended, I would cruise the mall looking for hotness, singing along to this.

AVRIL LAVIGNE - "Sk8er Boi" 4

Fame as melodrama, something really not new, but never as banal as this.

BIG BROVAZ - "Nu Flow"

New flow sounds like old flow.

BUSTED - "Thats What I Go To School For" 5

A teenage boys jack off fantasy that sounds more authentic then mtv might allow.

CHRISTINA AGUILERA - "Dirrty" 6

The song is supposed to be the new fuck me I’m legal Christina, and does have some potential, but it still seem to have an element of little girl playing grown up. I don’t think she’s ever had sex, only heard of it from r a b and Madonna.

COLDPLAY - "In My Place" 8

Mopey Anglo to the core but his voice sends little shivers up my spine.
A safe morissey for housewives, but better.

ELVIS vs JXL - "A Little Less Conversation" 9

It took a Dutchman to make Elvis more then warhol multiples, secanol and shitting himself to death on the toilet, wouldn’t have worked with one of the famous ones, and the extra noise doesn’t really matter, cause its all about the molasses thick Memphis drawl, come back dark prince, we love you again.

EMINEM - "Without Me" 5

It doesn’t feel like social criticism any more but another small dicked wonder waving it around, trying to prove his own power. Repetitive and stupid, which is a shame because the boy used to be clever and new.

EVE feat. ALICIA KEYS - "Gangsta Lovin" 6

What we have here is two genuine vocal talents outclassed by the shimmery Phil Spector in Harlem production

FISCHERSPOONER - "Emerge" 10

Like kraftwerk made as plesurebots,
There is nothing human here and it is warmer and more erotic then Dirrty, cyborg culture is warm for your loving.

JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE - "Like I Love You" 5

For some one who has been condemned and discounted in the media, it is strange how much this white boy sings and dances like whacko jacko- all the way down to the grunts and the falsetto, purely by the numbers.


KELLY OSBOURNE - "Papa Don't Preach" 6

Hard Rock Cover of Madonna when she was making great pop songs, rather then just deconstructing them.
Savage Parody of the media culture she has found her self emerged, and a voice that is so over produced that you cannot tell whether it sucks or rules, all standards are out the window and all that matters is that I am singing this out loud.

KHIA - "My Neck My Back" 4

A paean to the glory of analingus. This needed to come sooner.

LAS KETCHUP - "The Ketchup Song" 3

The dance that goes with this is too complicated, and cannot be done in baseball stadiums; it will not break in America. This pleases me.

LCD SOUNDSYSTEM - "Losing My Edge"
MADONNA - "Die Another Day"

Sir Reg may have bitched about the lack of Bassey, but really its not about Bond but about Madge, the body keeping closed, the skittering beats, and the volumes of material found in the silences, she doesn’t want Siggy to analyse this, she wants the press to stop, her voice is getting better- burnished, maybe it’s the studio production, quoting eccleisaties, talking about sin, growing up, the cut apart violins, it sounds like a manifesto for pop success, it sounds like a new strategy, it sounds like she if refuting what made her famous, it sounds fantastic.

MISS DYNAMITE - "It Takes More" 5

A primer on sexual ethics envolped in a proper genre works out.

NELLY - "Hot In Herre" 8

A good pop single made better by encouraging frat boys to take it off.

NELLY AND KELLY - "Dilemma" 7

Kelly has a better voice then Beyonce and more intimate phrasing, something missing in this age of bombast.
This is in fact a rather understated and subtle love song, lovely in its own way.

NIRVANA - "You know you’re right"

Been a bootleg for ten years, grafting metal and pop doesn’t seem new, but it makes me remember with fondness, how much I miss the old verse chorus verse, loud soft loud, and that glorious growl, Cobain was a great stylist, a v. good vocalist, we forget that.


PINK - "Just Like A Pill"

The love as drug metaphor is dead and the bridge that leads to the chorus is dull.
Pill/ill is a lazy rhyme. No sing along potential.

PUDDLE OF MUDD - "She Hates Me" 4

I want my teenage pathos with more anger.
It’s like Ween, but I know Ween is kidding, but I know these guys are serious.
Relationships with the shelf life of yoghurt don’t need a song.

S CLUB JUNIORS - "Automatic High" 0

The Paedo pop of Aaron Carter and lil' bow wow but English.

SCOOTER - "Ramp! (The Logical Song)"

Fags should not be allowed to make dance music, it becomes both throbbing and cute, like a teddy bear with a raging hard on


SUGABABES - "Round Round" 5

I should hate this, and I don’t. I am not sure why.

THE CLIPSE - "Grindin" 4

I have never gotten over my discomfort with the phrase nigger and bitches, and strippers anthems are never really interesting, but he does he get points for honesty.

THE VINES - "Get Free"

All I know is that this is the perfect music to pogo to on a Friday night and grind to on a Saturday morning. and baby that’s all I want.

THE CORAL - "Dreaming Of You"

All of those happy memories, 50s calypso, 60s cali pop, 70s singer songwriter, Cyndi Lauper, Stephin Merritts boy as he walks down the street. Catchy.

TIM MCGRAW - "Red Rag-Top" 10+10

Small and acoustic, and sad, in the country way about common tragedies that reverberates,
This one makes me cry because it makes no judgements; the political message is missing,
The narrative tells the story, exhausting.

TRUTH HURTS - "Addictive" 9

Qawalli, hand claps, undulating female voices, pop exoticism but folded in, is the hip hop rapping and the sugar daddy anthem, its an odd fusion of the spiritual and the intensely cynical.

VANESSA CARLTON - "A Thousand Miles" 8

Sounds like leafless trees and stark walks through neighbourhoods and sort of that pseudo dyke punk that was popular for five minutes 6 years ago. Good.




Pop Focus Group, didnt mention the hip hop this one b/c i dont get it-also less i truly loved. (cf the streets)

narnia is a problem because i never belive that the charachters are in any really danger. aslan comes as deus ex machina or the wardrobe is open or there are always green (or is it yellow) rings. that and the heircahy of kings and princes seems un christlike.

reading pound again, cantos- its like all of the statues i saw in london, one on every street corner, for some great colonial hero that i never could figure out- some were wonderful and some were awful but they were there and inscrutable.

reading it with the readers guide, which only translates- doesnt explain any of the more obscure references, there are lines though that bowl me over.

also reading a book on queers in hollywood, which reminds me of two things

ethel mermans disco album is reissued, and more importantly, according to a 2nd hadn gossip- carol pope and dusty springfield made out in a dyke dive in toronto in the mid 70s.

the art party was a disaster, i took two photographs, ones i thought were good, and no one bought them. i dont know why i bother trying, i want to give up.

its 4 pm and its all ready dusk, i have spent the day reading narnia, finishing a book and a half, i had to go to the library and pick up olds and gunn, mostly because i recommended them to andrew, and mostly becausae there is no allegory or metaphor in them- after 250 pages of clever, slight, obvious childrens allegory- its about jesus- reading about AIDS deaths and dysfunctional families is a break.

saturdays an art party at lat, i got in for free b/c i donated art. art i made. i am scared.

there is a joke issue for the gateway tomorrow, and someone wrote a roaring satire about me, my god and my queerness. it hurt. i dont want to veto it, because i want to be a good sport.

world aids day


I was the generation after the plauge- where the exhaustion moved in- where die ins and kiss ins and roberts no longer ruled meetings in basements.

i came in with the juno twins of protease inhibtors and azt- the ones that saved our lives (our- no one i know died of it) but depended on vulturus drug companies to provide them.
what did those meetings do- what did the research and the discourse and the arguments do ? what did the theories about fort derek do ? what did act up change ? what about the un comitteee on hiv and aids, what can the fags and africans and the immigrants and the iv drug users have in common ?

there are those who think its not HIV, there are those that think (important those, nobel prize winning those) who think that the african strain comes from hunger and the american strain comes from pleasure

hiv was falling, and siph was rising and now hiv is rising

i have nostalgia now- for a time and place where sex was free an easy and where pleasure didnt result in anything more then a broken heart or the clap, which was cured by horse pills and dr visits

there are those who think its mutated teritary siph.

my queer uncle, my mothers age, old enough for the fun, was living at that time- but he avoided itm because of guilt, because of religon because of family ties

there are those who think its a curse from god

i asked earlier, what i thot i learnt from it

in 1965 jfk fucked monroe in the pool of the white house- cock into cunt- banging pounding-those macho pnetrative words

in 1995 clinton hand an affair with monica in the oval office, used fingers tounges, cigars-never pentrated, never banged, no cock into cunt- queer sex, safe sex

pearl necklace, facial, handjob, blow job, its all aids, its all avoiding being pentrated

i fear being pentrated, pentrating, thats what changed, a whole generation of boys who learnt about fingers and tounges, who talked and neghotied

a whole generation of girls who demanded rubbers, gloves, dental danms, who didnt end up being raped in the back seat of chevys

thats what hiv/aids did for north america

africa/asia/south america

machismo, magick, poverty- whoce populations with out the resources.

millions more then the bubeonic, more then the great influenza, more then tb or typhoid or malaria, countries dying over night, and us oin privelige, ignoring them, looking for the pearls in our pigshit

AZT saved us

AZT is too expensive

Protease inhibtors saved us

Protease inhibtors are under patent

thats the great gift of mandela, making the drugs generic, distrubting them for noting, along with condoms and education

What i thot of before becoming catholic wasnt being queer or the borgias or the jews, it was condoms

not birth control, but disease pervention

millions are dying, those tubes of latex need to be given to be saved

they used to be made of lambskin- during the last plauge of this sort- 17th , 18th, 19th century- 300 yrs to discover a cure for siphylis, and arsenic and mercury and lambskin condoms were used in the mean time

are azt and protease our aresnic and mercury

it was called siphylssis after a sheep herder- and the italins balmed it on the french and the french blamed it on the greeks.
now we blame it on the africans or the fags or any numbe rof others

do we blame cancer ?
cant we trat it like concer ?
a disease with out hte history, the morality, the idelogy ?

so yesterday i went to campus crusade(which i am trying to rename cavalcade) for christ, to return some books to andrew, give him the reading list he asked for, and then split to write an essay thats already a week late, we got talking, and i stayed for the first half of it, and then wandered out, i hadnt eaten for a couple of days, cause my landlady fucked off to viking and she is supposed to providrr board, and andrew promised me dinner.

wandering out of the meeting i saw dana sitting on the couch- dana is the one who wrote a letter about my celibacy article, and who i thot was a protestant asshole, and he thot i was a catholic conseartive. we met at cavalcade last week, and he is smart, funny clever, reads hebrew and greek, carries arround a greek critical translation of the christian scripture, grew up as a catholic... anyways, interesting fellow, and we got talking about nahum, reality tunnels, the connections b/w the arc of the coveanant and YHWH, wherether god was really in their -andrew came out afterwards and we all went to wendys- where i had a classic single, biggie sized at his insistence, and then andrew, dana, stephanie, me and john (another buddy) talked about cannocity of the pauline epistles, cosmology, catholic theology, evanglical fundementalism, the uses and abuses of the jesus seminar, desim, where we were on our "faith journeys", the entomonlgy(sp) of the wd cunt, femminism etc- then andrew left suddenly, and dana and john i and his gf - steph, walked to the stadium car park while i explained queer theory- i never wanted it to end, i am amazed at how smart Thomas's friends are, and how religous, or howq much they cared about god, i t hink that when i find people like this i tend towards the compulsive, mainlining them until everyones exhausted, esp. in winter- i hope i hadnt done that, when i got home i phoned andrew and told him thnx, ott and inapporite most likely.

ase

was going to go to the twin cities in dec. but taras wedding is on the 16th -so heading there in may

asked to speak in la in august

the gateway feature on bdsm offended me, making us once again extoicized sexual others, and i want to read narnia again.

aside from the v. odd break, i have spent most of my time from thurs. to today writing 7500 wds on nahum. i am proud of the lenght, and the work that went into it, but am unsure of the qauilty. thnx to thomas for the lap top and to thomas's roomate andrew- who got my head thinking and called me on my bullshit.

dinner with my hebrew scripture class, glad that its over, sad that its done. emotinally realvent, and timely- with a bunch of evanglicals who found something vaulbe in me.

gift basket from the X's folx, contained processed cheese and meat in a tube.

i started writing poetry again today, for the first time in two months, i spent the day in a library, and started thinking of other things, took a fresh sheet off my white pad and sketched/free formed. its not finished hasnt been edited, it comes from reading the dickinson poem wild night, whose last three lines i have always thought balanced between love and lust, b/w bawdy pun and vital need.


so this is the unedited free form , not all going to show up in the last draft, anthony poem

linen hankerchief

cotton sheets

the snow that grounds pine forrests

cold

last year, he would be with me

he was with me last year

to have him beside me

was warm



that's what i miss

was the warmth



the crescent of his belly

where my hand would (could) fit


the nook of his shoulder

where my head would rest



the curve of his body

o'er me


the exhausted sleep

the twinned hearts


the stillness



rest his arms 'round my belly



cling close to him

practical concerns


warmth mostly, and the wind outside the window and being inside and seeing snow fall,


to be protected; to be loved

the sheets, and his flat firm belly



the snow out the windows and christmas coming, and im alone, and he isnt here

i thrash so much, a slat comes undone, and i can hear my heart beat but not his

i talked to adam today, asked for forgiveness, and he asked it of me.

had an aletory drink with trevor who writes for the gateway- we started talking and my goal of researching nahum went down the drain

now trevor and i hadn't really talked, but tonight we spent an hour together

hes pure- catholic, altar boy, boy scout, valdectorian, popular in high school, a pysch student getting out of engineering. he hadnt been to the plant or ratt.

he says heck uironically, and listens quietly.

he seems to like me, and hes funny- and a grate writer.

i thot something, i have talked to a bunch of these consveratives lately, and maybe im disneyland- a loud brash faggot with little social skills and a tendency to ask all the wrong questions in all the worst ways has got to be adventrous- but im not dangerous, im really sort of gentle.

so its like space mountain, a rollicking ride but no real danger.

40 bux from 53 for a lecture review. would be it undecorus to go to adam and say fuck u u cunt i dont need yer stinkin' paper. off to vv to buy a land form.

The Rogers media mogul just delviered a 300 million dolalr gift to the Art Gallery of Ontario, well it s more then that if you include a 50 million dollar bribe to Frank Gehry and a 20 million dollar endowment.

1/3 rd of the 300 million dollars is taken up by the purchase of a Reubens (well 117/300 million). This painting was just recently refound, and its authourship is heavily debated, mostly b/w those for auction houses and real art historians- the real art historians mostly in agreement that it was a student and not the master.

Aside from the "Reubens", there is the usual Kreighoffs, Kanes and Group of 7ers

Kane is a v. v. v. minor history painter known mostly for his sentimanetalizing portraits of natives, which I guess is better then killing them off whole sale.

Kreighoff is a 19th century dutch immigrant to Canada, who painted cloying scenes of life in Rural Upper Canada, which was as unrelated to life as could be possible (ice skating vs freezing to death-which makes a better picture ?)

The group of 7 pictures include a handful of good to great Harrises and a bunch of other shitty landscapes.

Harris paintings do not have the tennous of JEH McDonald or the whole sale rip offs of post impressionism or the cake icing thick impasto of a JEH McDonald.

What they do have is serene and glorius color, lots and lots of whites and greens and blues and blacks, , with large bimorphic shapes that vaugley resemble mountains or icebergs.

his last paintings were done in the Bahamas and oh my god, the color is amazing, parrot greens, corals, crimsons, pinks, oranges, just land evoked with swirling lines and elegant shapes. –an undervalued period, none of the moguls collection contain any of them .

the oddity of the collection is the huge amounts of unremarkable English pottery , mostly English and mostly made b/w the 16th and 18th Centuries, it’s the sort of polite collectible that smacks of hummels for the upper classes.

its boring, and all comes on the tail of auction results from vancouver0 where Kane sold for a new record (17 million)- a similar auction in Toronto will sell of half a dozen Kreighoffs and expect similar prices. Both of them are safe, dull and prestigious, sold more for patriotism then aesthics. And Harris, while Brillant and Shamelessly unknown outside of Canada, is over compensenated within because of it.

Why Cant we get decent results for unknowns- the recent Covilles are all about Death and God, somber and photrealsitc and almost exenestial in their misery.

or Kurlek, whose religious paintings are as plain as a Methodist hymn and as gory as his native Orthodoxy ( he did a series of paintings on Mathhew- one of which features a farmer, whose field is half plowed, crucifed on a fence post. )

or the stern potruitre of 19th century Quebec

or even the most recent workers, Jeff Walls massive often ugly Cibrachromes, o whose violence seems nesscary, or Stan Douglas's video peioces, who show the method of their artifice, and are all the more moving because of it or Robert Attila Lucas's connections b/w the cult of the body and the cult of body politic or Joyce Weilands quilts, or Agnes Martins scared evocations of light or hundred of others.

im sick of the boredom of the canuck establishment and how they buy art.

i spent an hour and a half, maybe two- talking to thomas last night-mostly about god, b/c thats what he and i talk about. we talked about attachments and the doctrine of christ, the fear of obdeibnce, the emptiness that comes after mass, my exhaustion, why im religous, essentialism.

im not sure, it feels like their are two people in me- a boy who naively belives in the glory of god, and a cynical adolscent who belives in nothing

he went to mass w. me, and afterwards fr. bittner called me a man, which always throws me-b/c i dont feel like one.

walk into an internet cafe and a friends art is on the walls; havent seen her for 6 mos. and the art in question is about the violence found in her native chile, sad &sombre stuff.

i am watching a memeber of the u of a golden bears still sweaty from practice, walk down the hall singing nelly. i have a hard on that could open beer bottles.

> For a while this year the British Royal Family was forgiven for all >of its misdeeds. Prince Charles went public with his consort, introducing >Camilla to the Queen after a summer where she was his constant companion. >She also spent much time with the princes-along with Charles who was >working PR to be portrayed as a good father, from disciplining Harry for >smoking dope, to giving William polo lessons, to attending parents days at >Eton and taking them fishing in Scotland.>>There were other indications that Charles and Company were recovering well from >the death of the popular blonde at the hands of drunken chauffeurs. For >example, for the first time in years, the Italian gutter press no longer >calls Charles Tamponcino and the London dailies take his organic gardening >and jeremiads against contemporary architecture seriously. This is a shame >really because offering to be Lady Parker Bowles tampon was among the most >romantic things a member of the Royal Family had uttered ever, and his >pronouncements about buildings resembling carbuncles need to be mocked, >mostly because he used the word carbuncles.>> That said, it wasn¡¯t only Charles who got the media love, the Queen did >not suffer the indignity of punk anarchy during her jubilee, like she >suffered for her twenty-fifth. What she did get was a series of concerts, >including one featuring "hard rockers", including a drug addled Ozzy >Osbourne. There was also the wonder sons, the most English monarchs in >line for the throne for centuries, who are threatening to date Pop Stars >and going to London clubs with cocaine on the table- all around, the >Windsor¡¯s seem to have loosened up and become popular. The scandals under control, and the queen being treated as the great colonial nana was refreshing for her, but truly dull for the rest of us. >Which is why it was so refreshing to have Paul Burrell start talking, this was the man who was >Diana¡¯s servant and "rock", who cried loyally at her funeral. He was charged >recently for stealing dozens of items ranging from the banal to the intensely >personal. Between being forced to testify by the courts and being >encouraged with a six-figure pay off to spill by the Tabloid Daily Mirror- >whole epics of scandal have been unearthed.>>The Oprahfied therapeutic confessions of victim hood that Diana specialized >in, the moping and weeping and gnashing of teeth, the awkward confessions >of adultery, bulimia and self-harm have been extended way past the operatic into camp. What Mr. Burrell told about the royal family is brilliant because it¡¯s new, and because it shows how hermetic those who lead us is. For example, Diana pretended to be an American with the name Ms. Armani so that she could date a prominent Anglo-Arab heart surgeon. These dates included having the gentleman smuggled into Kensington Palace and meeting him while clad only in furs and diamonds. The discussion of this Arab in British papers concentrated heavily on his race, as did the discussion of Dodi al-Fayed. Diana was good at photo-ops with the worlds disenfranchised, concentrating on them as an effective tool to win her battle against the Windsor¡¯s. It seemed ok to use Arabs as tools in an extensive campaign of her public image, but not okay to use them in bed. To make sure that it is not only a racial other included; there are other >stories of what the butler saw, mostly about what he saw about himself. >Apparently he and most of the staff enjoyed buggery greatly. Which isn¡¯t a surprise, really, it¡¯s been the most popular sport among upper class boarding schools- though cricket comes a close second. Depending on whose reports you believe, the incidents of homosex in and some shenanigans in Burrell¡¯s native Australia. And Burrell awkwardly portioning a prominent just out of the closet television presenter, There are also things that he told second hand, or gossip that has arisen from this new crisis just because it seems to be the right time. For example the he crew and some servants watching queer porn on the royal yacht, Britannia the anal rape of a servant by another servant- a rape that apparently everybody in the Court new from the queen on down to Scotland Yard. And then there is the fun stuff to do with the royals themselves For example Prince Andrew being caught receiving oral favours from a footman.So the Butler was apparently insatiable, the princess fucked outside her >race and station, and some of the Windsor¡¯s and their hangers on like to fuck ass, sometimes with out consent. What is the point of us caring about this? Aside from the >pleasures of schadenfreude, there are archetypal elements- the unhappy >princess is a required element in every fairy tale, and we expect racism >and exoticism from the ruling classes. There is the hope in the heart of >every Republican that this may be the latest scandal to break the royal >family but they¡¯ve lived through Oliver Cromwell and they will survive >this. Perhaps the fascination is just a fascination with scandal, a proof >that those in power are more insane and inbreeds then your average trailer >trash.

my beard has turned from ordinary to shaggy to to amish john the baptist in the desert a couple of months and its brigham young-ive always wanted brigham young, just hadnt the pateince.

i wrote this for raymond, and he called my self indulgence. he also called it one of the most techincally sound peices hes seen.

I had a drink with the Arts and Entertainment editor for this paper last
week, discussing my position in that particular section-during that
meandering conversation he asked me why I wrote and avoiding any emotion, I
gave him a flip answer, something about being bored.

I’ve stewed over the question for a good week and a half, figuring if my
ambitions ran to writing I should have an answer ready to give people. The
first response that came to my head was that I am pretty lousy at most
things I’ve tried- the list of things I cannot do is lengthy, and the list
of things I’m good at is relatively short. I am a fairly decent writer-if
other peoples feed back is anything to go on, good.

Why I’m good at it is another matter-I’m good at it because I love language,
it’s an honest love given to me by my parents, who fought about grammar at
the kitchen table, had more dictionaries then most small town libraries and
would tell us to look things up when we asked rather obscure questions. I
grew to love English’s nooks and crannies, which other languages had words
that were absorbed by my mother tongues-as well as how often it mutates into
thousands of variations including cants, jargon, patois and Creoles. To move
caste in English, form high to low and from technical and theoretical to the
languages of the streets and gutters is easy and effective.

There are other reasons I write, aside from my hard on for the word. Writing
is cheaper then this months antidepressant, in fact I can start writing for
the cost of one tablet- and that’s if I had to buy pen and paper myself.
It’s also almost as effective, writing helps puzzle things out, allows
ambiguity and allows you to note progressions. To write every day is to
develop a pattern and order feels better then chaos.

But I write even if doesn’t make me feel better, and I often write when I
feel my worst-especially for the public. Wouldn’t a journal be better then a
belly draining that could be seen by all and sundry? At heart, I’m a
neurotic mess, I don’t like myself, and this should be obvious to anyone who
speaks to me for more then a few minutes. Writing gives me something
tangible to point to, something to hand out to those who ask what it is I
do.

There is something-deeper here then therapy or self-esteem or the love of
the word. The writing that I love the most, the writing that allows the
writing that touches me and the writing I am best at is poetry. But
everyone writes poetry when they are 14; it’s the dirty little secret and
something that your supposed to give up post adolescence. Saying you write
poetry and want to write poetry is akin to saying that masturbation is still
your preferred form of sexual activity.

So there it is why I’m a writer. No really good answers there, and maybe
that’s the point. I have often thought it would be easier if I threw it out
the window and never looked back. But I cannot every time I try, the next
day I make my grocery list rhyme or blog about how much I love Jesus. That’s
why I really write, it’s a compulsion that verges on addiction, and I don’t
really want to be cured.

today, i smoked weed on wreck beach with winnpeggers, after making my first motion at plenary.

we went thru broadway and commerical taking photos of me, we bought a glass bottle of choclate milk,i sat in on three hobos playing foggy mountain break down. we went to a nice irish pub where a band was playing and there was cider on tap but there was not enough kidney in the steak and kidney pie. we drove to an electroclash party, on the way there i tried to convince him to play bowling at a 24 hr joint, at the party there was a man in lederhosen, another man in a lavender fencing/cowboy type shirt, i had shots of cinammon schanpps, and half a beer. i danced a bit, and made a clever comment about electro that i forgot, then we drove arround, stopping at broadway and commerical again for blueberry crumble. the we drove to the beach at kitsalno, after driving down davies. i took my shoes and socks off, and then rolled down a grassy hill, we had fun.

first day in Vancouver:
i8 galleries,( some good art- esp. at tracey lawernec, with a drawing show that looked mike kelly la and murakami toyko and cancuckleheaded all at once) a fist fight ( i watched a 20 yr old flatten a man), sushi(salmon roll bento box-4.99) one dollar pizza slices (3), a Danish 1950s teak credenza that cost 120 dollars and 300 to ship
taking the bus with a boy that looked like a missinoary i once knew except the missionary didn't speak fluid French
meeting a girl on the street from Queensland, Toowoomba-reaizing her (Jane Carisle and her sister(Sarah Carisle) knew Geoff, went to school with him- talked about his writing,
how confident and independent he was.
the phrase Geoff is Geoff was used, which is a phrase that was used to describee me often.
5 cassette tapes of obscure anglopop,, bow wow wow, housemartins.

last night two hours of drinking beer and smoking weed and gossiping about papers, the Ubsessy still uses light boxes and wax.

http://ilx.wh3rd.net/thread.php?msgid=3110863#3110984

people think i should write about country for the village voice.

off to van tomorrow. i got fred astaire happy.

One of the side effects of Remeron, the new tricylic i'm on, is slight drowsiness-which i can deal with if it means slight drowsiness. What it means is that I go to bed tired and frustrated ca. 19:00 and get up groggy ca. 10:00. I have a 9 am class, I have deadlines, I cannot sleep for 15 hrs a day and still funcution. But if I go off my meds, it's a miracle that I get up at all.


The trip to Van. starts at 7 am on Thursday, with four other people. Fuck -14 hrs in a car with four other people, can you say claustraphobia and panic attacks-why am i going to this thing, i am so anxious about it, im thinking of just giving up.

yesterday in class, tom got angry about the tulip formation in calvinsim, i was not sure what it meant. i realized that i am so stupid when it comes to hardcore protestant theology.

So campus food drive, two hours trick or treating, this time for food for the food bank, every house i went to had food for us- on one house there was a note that said that this is all she had because her mom was in a nursing home. in others they gave us candy or words of encouragement. i feel like god has blessed me with this experince, reminded me that although depression often leads to solipism, if you can extend yourself it will be alright.


ballet tomorrow.

toms in vancouver, and im there next week and i am looking forward to it immensly.

It was a rather modestly sized audience that gathered last Saturday morning at 11 a.m. in Cooper Union's basement Great Hall to see newscaster Peter Jennings interview the 47-year-old New York artist Jeff Koons. The morning repartee kicked off the annual Art Walk NY fund-raiser put on by the Coalition for the Homeless, so everyone was full of a charitable spirit. Except that Jennings seemed not particularly sympathetic to Koons' work. "How did you like being called a 'master of kitsch' and a 'self-promoter'," he asked early on. "It was very painful," Koons answered earnestly, a tone that he maintained throughout. "I just tried to keep my work pure to my objectives."
Koons is a good salesman for his own work, and he explained what he was after in some of his more sensational pieces (in the vacuum cleaners he sought "the darker, masculine side of consumerism," and his explicit color photos of love scenes between himself and his ex-wife Ilona Staller, otherwise known as Cicciolina, an Italian porn star, were meant to express a romance of everyman and everywoman. "My work has always been collage, so I thought I'd collage myself into my own work." For those who look for secrets in an artist's childhood, Koons noted that his father had run a furniture showroom, and that he was always seeing things displayed.

The conversation had several bizarre highlights. Jennings asked Koons if it was true that he admired Michael Jackson more than anyone -- Koons apparently made such a statement in the past -- and Dan Graham asked from the audience whether Koons thought Jackson was gay. Jennings parried by asking to reserve the question for later. (Later never came, though a slide of Koons' ceramic sculpture of Michael Jackson and Bubbles, which sold last year at Sotheby's for $5.6 million, did eventually go up on screen, and Koons said something about it representing the speed of evolution.) Koons volunteered that he admired Jackson because "he would do anything for his work, but ended up a tragic figure."

The artist also brought up his former wife and spoke at length about their divorce and child-custody dispute. "My ex-wife has a borderline personality disorder," he offered by way of explanation. "All ex-wives have borderline personality disorders," joked Jennings. Koons remained serious, and told the audience that his son Ludwig, now 10 years old, was "abducted" by his ex in 1994, and that in a "tremendous injustice by the Italian judiciary" he is not allowed to see him or talk to him on the phone. He hopes that his son will look back on some of his recent works with childlike imagery and realize that "my dad was thinking of me."

Koons also said that as a result of the clash, he had sought out and destroyed "60-some" works from the "Made in Heaven" series, the images of he and his wife having sex. He also talked about the 200-foot-long backdrop he made for the currently touring Rolling Stones stage show, which included images of female underwear stretched across the stage ("to create tension"), a trash can flying through the air, and a cascade of oversized corn kernels. Keith Richards was to be positioned in front of the corn, and had Koons remove five kernels from the mural, since he didn't want to be completely surrounded by corn when he played.

From artnet, we all love mr koons.

and joan mitchell

Thats a prince, a print though, not a painting and not the one i thought of.

joan mitchells in all the latest magazines, first major retrospective since she croaked and really i dont see it. ive read the theory and looked at the paintings, thought about it, looked some more, seen some live in london and nothing. its the stuff i usually like, the colours at least, and thats all a boy expects from abex these days- maybe tohugh its the incompleteness of the field or the failure to intergrate certain lines, or the messy scrawl- there are v. few messy scrawlers i enjoy (twombly), hmm- no idea really.

i do like the new richard prince joke paintings though, they look so serious- buff on buff, black on balck, white on white. silly henny youngmen style one liners.

its for of course. ive read this text book twice and i cannot think of anything but churlish thoughts. due on wednesday. trying to reconstruct an essay for adam, failing. tired .

an odd do nothing day

wrote for nyplm and this blog at &;30 , meet jess from newman

class at 9 am, talked about hellenistic athens, one class short

did about 50 pages of reading fro class

treid to talk to raymond about a gateway article

had a drs appointment for mens stuff- have you ever had a test for stds (i havent had pentrative sex for at least 6 mo. but my scrotum has been hurting for about three days) anyways they stick a swab up yr urethra-unpleasent in extremis.

got an email that some of my "fiction" would be published (50 bux american)-email me if you want details on that one

went to mass where the priest talked about depression

went home did some more reading

back to the gateway, tried to revise the saint albert art peice, my email decided to stop opening attachments

left gateway, bumped into daniel for a bit and we talked about the german new wave - wenders herzog fassbinder- along with the ldsers, sceintologists, orzon,punch drunk love et al

newman or my sisters games tonite- not sure which i want to go to.

thomas is speaking at campus crusade tonite, but i talked to him on tues., had class w. him on wednesday, and dropped by his work yesterday-where we talked again an hour and a bit-do i want to see him again?

fearsomes bitching about my lack of comments, but my nyplm writing has them and it makes me a wreck when there are none.

list is queer novels, written for ilx

Top Twenty

01) Death in Venice by Thomas Mann

02) On the Road-Kerouac

03) The Immoralist by Andre Gide

04) Billy Budd-Mellville

05) Symposium-Plato

06) Confessions of a Mask -Yukio Mishima

07) The Talented Mr Ripley-Highsmith

08) Cities of the Red Night-Burroughs

09) The Berlin Stories-Christopher Isherwood

10) Death Comes for the Archbishop -Willa Cather

11) Head Hunter-Findley

12) The Persian Boy - Mary Renault

13) Funny Boy -Shyam Selvadurai

14) The Coming Storm-Russell

15) Aimee and Jaguar-Fischer

16) The Naked Civil Servant-Crisp

17) Other Voices, Other Rooms-Capote

18) Myer Breckinbridge-Vidal

19) Collected Short Fictions-Saki

20) Maurice-Forrester

2/4 of thomas's roommates have started blogs. including one on shit. back to sleepless nights. midterm back today.

this new medication has caused me to sleep more then i have, well ever. 15 hrs a day for the last three days.

instead of writing an exam, thomas read my blog and then qouted it to me extensivley, with comments.

i am slightly uncomforatble, and emailed him thrice trying to process how i felt.

i forgot how meloncholy and personal this website is.

btw the quoting of Christs last words on the cross was meant to be self mocking.

thomas invited me to church three weeks ago, and i missed it, so he invited me again this week.
now i am not sure wether he is inviting me because he has to, i mean an evangglical christian likes to have his friends show up, its status, it means that he has saved one more then others
maybe he likes me though, and wants to do something socially.
i called him yesterday to see what time church was, but what i really wanted to ask him was- why me?
is it 'cause a sinner in the hands of an angry god is hot to convert
is it 'cause you want to spend time with me.
i also wanted to ask him how a baptist church service works, whether there was communion, who would be there, what am i expected to do, what do i wear.
i have been having a panic attack all day 'cause of this and my midterm, which is monday.
though i walked into the 2nd Cup attatched to the library today and my buddy Patricia comped me a an italian soda, and i have two a and e stories coming.
still unhappy.

so i went to the dr to get on medication. the therapist that the u of a requires one to see b4 the shrink told me that it was my deportmant.

next week, when i get the money together, i will be taking remeron. a tricylic-havent done those since i was 8, he says that my appetite and my anger may increase.

im trying to fit in as much people time as possible, cause im not miserable with people, they distract me.
i feel like a failure, like i tried every thing and nothing worked. i feel like i have betrayed a ton of people who have tried to help.
i feel like god has left me.
eli eli lama samach (correct my hebrew josh)

wondering why im not happy, even though my life is going well,wondering why i depend on god so much, curious about why i think my writing is shit, worried about how slow my writing is i pick up noon day demon and come to the awareness that depression will be with me pretty steady and that content is as good as happy, and recognzing that when i am tired i should sleep is all ok. its calming.

Lombardos Adam has been destroyed, it shattered after a pedestal collpased at the Met in NYC. Here is image about the sculpture and here is a NYT story about the entire fiasco It makes me sad

thursday- meeting w. fr. stephen. talked about god,sex,the saints ,obdeince(sp), why I would be a poor priest, mass, and of course edward gorey and the gashleycrumb tinnies - then interviewing two artists from mt allison nova scotia, doing their mfa here.

friday- 4 hours of bingo then adoration of the host, rushed home to change and then rushed back, discussion over pot luck, newman with icebreakers, worship and praise, and a talk by a nigerian seminarian which destroyed the pollyanna attitude north americans view conversion.then mini golf, a gin and tonic at the old timey british pub inside of the mall and a ride home where my drinking habits and what happens after i drink was displined

Top 40 Conserative Pop Songs, via NYPLM

odd list, but glad some one is looking at pop seriously and deeply. Hes wrong about the Beatles Revolution and Paul Anka sucks though.

sorting things out
The Hannibal Lecter trilogy, the one with Hopkins, is a discussion of the misbalanced body/mind Cartesian dialectic
In the first movie, SoTL- Hannibal, through his culture and intelligence seduces Clarice, and this seduction is thwarted because he could not escape, when he manages to escape- he does so to the sounds of the Goldberg variations and a Nitsch style spectacle.
He is Sadistic, not in the sense now, but in the sense of 18th century France- an aristocratic man of taste, who has enough money to fill those tastes in comfort until he goes a little too far.
In this view Hannibal, the movie is an extension of the madness of taste and money. Hannibal is an aristocrat, he sends flowers, he goes to the symphony, and he is spending his time as a Florentine scholar. When Clarice finally tracks him down, their love affair or his seduction goes foreword. The beginning of the quid pro quos is extended to its most logical extremes.
As well the villains in both of these are feminine- either transgendered freaks or the detective cuckolded to the point of castration.

This seductive man of wealth and taste, who commits evil out of boredom or prediction (like a fetish) is a common trope in 20th cent literature (cf. Dracula, That fucking rolling stones song, the master and marghertia, Hitler as frustrated artist et. al)
The filmmakers had extended the intellectual side of Lecter too much, and had to balance the themes. This is where Red Dragon comes in. It is a villain humiliated for his exterior ugliness, and therefore tries to correct it through sadistic acts of violence. The crimes here are not crimes of necessity (Jamie Gumb) or art (Lecter), they are pure Freudian acting out. This is why, when Lecter tries to seduce the detective (played by ed Norton), he fails. He uses the same techniques as he later uses on Clarice- esp. notes of class and senses other then sight (side note-bisexuality as signifier of open sexuality- is Lecter queer, is his taste queer- we assume that people who know about these things are- there is a note of it through the novel?)

anyways, the other thing is that the detective is handsome, and so is the victim- there are shots in singlets and shirtless. The physical is emphasized. The gumshoe is also married, with a family providing a borgie criticism of Lecters lack of family.
*Spoiler* in the last scene, the family in danger cliché fest, the detective humiliates his son the same way the killers grandmother humiliated him. Apparently the Red Dragon was a bed wetter that was threatened by castration every time he did it. The deceives kid pisses himself, and Norton’s character threatens with castration the same way. He also calls him a faggot, but this seems not homophobic as much as well a reinforcement of the humiliation of losing genitals, of being less then a man (as opposed to gum, who is desperate to get rid of his)
The last scene in red dragon has Norton’s family sailing into the sunset, is this analogues to Lecter wandering around a Brazilian market in
SoTL.
(note-Castration here meaning removal of both penis and testicles.
That castration-or fear of- is also found in all of the novels and movies- Gumb tries to Castrate himself, the hanged man, Judas and the Dectective are all castrated (but do not have their penis removed in Hannibal-as well Lecter eats most “meat” cuts, but does not eat the penis and testicles- unlike real serial killers (ie Ed Gien or Dahlmer)

At this house party i suggested john cage as a way to mock my pretension, he had some.

b/w growing up with an lds and a drunk, i am never sure how much booze is too much

After the retreat, there was a house party- i went (sort of invited myself) and it was catholic- made a fool of myself only once(an englishman wrote God Save the Queen on the whiteboard, and i scrawled under it- the facist regime-shes in the country and its pissing me off);slept for two hours on his couch, talked to one of the housemates about my conversion experince( a teacher named terry-not sure if hes queer or urban), ate v. good puffed wheat sqaures, and was driven home ca 3:30 am

As I was leaving Sat.s Retreat, a youth i councilled asked if i was coming tomorrow, and i was not sure i was invited, so i said i didnt know, he looked crushed.

There was a handsome man on the bus today, who spent his trip eating a plum and reading notes for a chem eng. class- on sat night i spent an hour telling someone to go into chem. eng.

I haven't been sleeping well lately, one or two days of no sleep followed by 12 or 14 houts of dead sleep, also been sleeping on buses, at parties, and nodding off everywhere from class to the movies.

I've been v. religous lately-the youth retreats, johns church, mass, reading the scripture, going to reconcillioton

when these two coincide, it usally means i am deeply unhappy but i like my life.

second catholic youth retreat in a month, am growing comfortable with the church, growing needy for god. talked to the vocation director at the retreat today and he thinks i should think about the priest hood. the only thing that is holding me back is celibacy.

thinking of johns praise band and realzing what i thought was straight ahead r&r was more then that, a constantly changing work, that suited the auidence and the preacher, who worked the same riffs over and over again, until they became signifigant or changing. this is important to my understanding of whats happening there, i just cannot place it.

email from out of the blue from a buddy who disappeared...nice.

clarifcation from yesterday about the two faced thing-i'm a gay christian, something i live w. , w/o the conflict it confuses some people

write a peice on the roman catholic priesthood advocating celibacy- get the back page in the opinon section, write smut(esp. using the line "butch gods with cocks like tree trunks"- get yr mug plastered in the teaser, have old buddies stop and gush. (although two people i know have commented out of the blue on the r/c thing) (which makes me worry-what do the people who like the celibate preist hood thing think of the cockpeice and vice versa, i mean do i have to belive every word to be a good writer, if i am confused and write a peice of advocacy, am i a hypocrite- am i being honest to my audience ? )

working on another fag peice- this time comparing the recent outing of our anon. ball player and the "gay marriage" of the two wrestlers. its all about the autehnticity of idenity compared with the politics of spectacle, it aint gonna fly at the gateway, anyone want it ?

btw, nath and mark both like my blog-which makes me feel stupid, because all it is is self indulgent ranting-come here you two and give me mad hugglez-yes thats a word.

Went to john’s church on Monday, after not going to bed on Sunday night, johns church is the evangelical one.

Go in and its lit like Vegas, praise band playing loud- sound check etc.

Start up, singing dancing praying the usual stuff.

Sermon from a preacher in Velasquez- wanted volunteers to go up to the front, and I want up. Object Lesson about Matthew 25:6 (speaking of which that chapter is my favorite in the gospels)- for those w/o bibles in hand its the one about talents, anyways, it was a cute lesson, sat down his cadence got stronger and my heart got weaker, I cried and I felt like I was losing control- he asked after praying over the congregation if anyone wanted to be blessed- disappointed I missed the altar call last week went up, got up waited in line- this pastor (Greg-first names only, his wife’s name is Linda. ) blessed me, told me I was a man of great worth, told me I was a five talent man, told me god loved me, told me that I would be great in the eyes of the lord my knees buckled and I collapsed, laying on the floor, hearing nothing, though I know the band was still playing, seeing nothing.


I got up and went back to my seat and sit and thought.




I had been up 18 hours at that point, everyone was being blessed- and it was a time of great emotion- everyone I think felt the same way, or I thought they did- anyways fall always makes me worried about God and introspective


Later that night I got a ride home from one of johns friends, and he like john asked the money question (he also asked a dozen other questions that were frankly none of his business, but I answered them and the money question bothers me the most, you know where do you get yr cash sort of thing) I don’t talk about money, it wasn’t done in my house- john asked the question too.

(Side note- I think john is uncomfortable with me- maybe it’s the gay thing, maybe it’s the two faced thing, I look two faced to some people, I struggle with a multitude of situations and am never sure of a solution, many possibilities entertained at the same time, it may also be finances)

Earlier in the day I met a handsome man at a record store, a man I want to sleep with desperately, and gave him mix cads- we met a week earlier and I was telling him all about Scott Walker and momus- not sure if he's queer maybe a bit too forward- he told me about his coke dealing brother and his divorced parents though- * shrug *

So that’s my life, men I want to sleep with in the afternoon and Jesus is lord type in the evening.

I have been proud of my nyplm writing of late

This is a local story on the matter.

Three Students from the Alpha Gamma Rho Frateritny in Oklahoma city had a costume party. Complete with a klu klux klan clad man lynching a man in black face, with a man dressed in a confederate bandana watches. Fuck- How can American University Students do this, have they not been educated since birth about Racism and Slavery and all of those injustices ? Maybe I had good parenting. The other thing is that they were not expelled or even punished that much. This makes me sick, physically ill.

some closeted a hole baseball player sort of kind of came out in out this week, its awful and self indulgent. if your queer tell the world or dont-please try to avoid writing anon. bitchfests in national rags

sending some files to an online buddy, i figure that the RIAA will never suceed. Kaaza will die, but AIM won't and a genuine file sharing program is building up from the roots.

This is Absurd

First Christian Cheerleaders, Second American Idol, Third Videotaping, Fourth,What the Fuck is Worldliness.

talking to fearsome via aim, i remember i need to link him since he linked me- thinking about adding comments, writing about queer ethics and the wwe, and crying along to 69 love songs.

Two weeks ago I was invited to an evangelical church service for youth between the ages of 24 and 35, now I couldn't make it last week-but feeling guilty about denying an invitation, I made it this week.

I did it out of politeness, as a fellow Hebrew scripture student said come, and I did it out of curiosity- a certain writers instinct that this would be worth at least 500 words, and I did it out of an intellectual curiosity, and I did it because Jesus and I have not been on the best terms of late.

It took me an hour to get their by bus, and the church looked like an ancient, decaying convention center, with red velveteen cushions on the pews- I spent the first hour listening to a good praise band- they played rock and roll, in that most basic bass, drum, guitar, keyboard set up, and I sort of started grooving, but also writing a draft in my head, taking note of things I wanted to mention- their was a call to offering and I put my name on a visitor card, and I was doing all that cult watch shit my father taught me- then everyone sat down, and there was a sermon, there was in this hour a call for all the new people to put their hands up, and another about guests coming forward.

This sermon started like any hipster does, bad anecdotes about airplanes and questions asked to the audience, I answered two questions- cause I knew the answer - and I was all of a sudden noticed, something I was trying to avoid- the sermon had scripture by power point, something I would usually mock, but I really didn’t feel my cynicism or winking irony I usually have to survive these situations.



Then something happened that I cannot explain at all, he finished his sermon, and the band started up, and I left- I was weeping outside, and I didn’t want to be conspicuous, after I came back-there was an altar call, and I felt imprinted to go to the front of the church- I felt blank and happy, like how the spirit of god is described in conversion literature, my head shut off and I felt a strong desire to go to the altar and be cleansed- like all of my sins, and all of my actions others consider sins-would disappear, and I would be happy and joyous and forever in the arms of Christ Jesus. I have been unusually quiet today, and is feeling deeply confused

i grew up mormon, and was excommunicated. i was v. v. angry for a long time, and recently i have gotten over my anger and felt a certain nostalgia for the faith. its the earnestness and the belief that they are changing the world-but also a commitment to community that i rarely see in other places-you need someone to move you the church is there, you need a job-the church has an employment centre, you need food- there is a welfare cannery to provide you with the basic needs until you are back on your feet.

there is virture there.
( this comes from coming home with mormons straight from scripture classes, they are on the same bus and they read the bible, and are pleasently shocked when i know what they are talking about.

lecture with a visting german artist, reception following- three glasses of wine, 7 smoked salmon crouquettes, talk w. the artist, gossip about modernism, and blair handing out my review of the show like party favours. fucking fun i had.

The wife of Tyco CEO, who is under investigation in congress, had a birthday party costing 2.1 million dollars american. A highlight was the realsize replica of Michealangelos David in ice. His penis pissed vodka

Got a real letter from rosemary on afroken stationary, will get my defense of preistly celbiacy oin the newspaper on tuesday-though i am still struggling with mechanics, tom says that my long peice on the geopolitics of morissey will come out this weekend on Freaky Trigger ( i compare him to norma desmond), i mock josh about foccult at fearsome pirate and hope he is not too offended.

I have a catholic canoe retreat on sunday but its only three hours of canoeing and the rest is icebreakers,group discussions,praying,eucharist,the bishop talking et. al. I thought it would be four hours of canoeing, then an hour of lunch/religion and then four hours of canoeing. i haven't canoed all summer, i love canoeing more then life itself- three hours is like foreplay w/o intercourse

i think i am happy. though writing about arts for adam is a struggle.

i am open-minded!




How indie are you? test by ridethefader

You're pretty knowledgeable about music in general. You like indie music, sure, but that's only part of it.
You'll listen to any old shit as long as it sounds good to you. You're not snobby about music at all, you
just like what you like. How boring. Curiously, this makes you popular with the same sex.

editoral in-decided to stop caring,if it goes in it goes in

sorry this has all been writely of late,



i in the last three days, I've had 4 religous conversations-two with fundementalists about queerness, this is unusual.

what is the universe trying to tell me?

flipping thru the tube tonight, all i see is documentaries about 9/11 and new york.. what about washington or philedphia ?

I didnt write a reveiw of swimfan, submitted two woefully flawed cd reviews (spelling and puncuation), fucked up on an interview today(which may have been a simple misunderstanding) and felt out of place at meetings, i think i may be subconciously sabtoging my career at the gateway

got a cd review in, pleased the phrase fret wankery stayeed, but it isnt one of my best peices.

a good editoral didnt go in-i think its dense and first persony, maybe thurs.

have to add and edit the moz peice for ft, doing research for an essay and the essay (cleo and iannana-surrounded by women, if ever such)

been feeling tired and meloncholy, and things are bumbled because of it, drinking too much as well.

i talked to adam, my editor at the gateway today concerning a folk cd that i reviewed

its folk, traditional and mostly about farming and i started with a personal anecdote.

when writing crit, i rarely use the first person but he fit and he agreed calling it a nice segue(sp).
he then asked me to cut it .

if its a nice segue and a well written peice, what's the problem ?




also the oxford annoted bible is the best translation i have found.

maintaing the majesty of the king james , the populism of the niv, the flow of the new revises standard version and adding recent hebrew scholorship. the bottom 1/4 of the page is filled with footnotes for almost every page, showing the reasons and sources for translations

The School Board in
Conroe Texas banned Perfectly Normal: Changing Bodies, Growing Up, Sex & Sexual Health," by Robie H. Harris and illustrated by Michael Emberley because and this is a quoute That book tries to minimize or even negate that homosexuality is a problem," said County Judge Alan B. Sadler. "This is clearly a book for children about sexuality, and it clearly tries to steer the child toward being pro-homosexual or at least neutral." Perhaps everyone would like to email hard core pornography to Judge Sadler, cause you know he ain't getting what he wants at homeHere is his website

this is my pre editor draft of the catholic peice, its not as through as i'd like and it doesnt feature latin but hey

Catholicism is in crisis. Priests are dying and there are not enough young seminarians to replace them causing parishes to close, and the tasks of the church to be neglected. The Church is irrelevant to most of its members and they go for days of obligation if at all. If this crisis is not addressed the church may not die, but its strength will be sapped. To address these concerns, three things have to be done immediately. First lift the ban on female priests, second give ordinary Catholics (or the lay) more power and remind them of their obligations and lastly make the church transparent on all levels.
The most controversial of these three is the ordination of women. The Holy Father has forbidden the discussion of it. The problem is that the prohibition is not biblical. Paul, in his letter to the Corinthians talks about a Deaconess by the name of Phoebe. Before that there were woman in Christ’s life who did His work and who worshipped with Him. They buried Him and were the first to see him rise. Women act in all aspects of the Lords Supper except blessing. They are even altar servers, until very recently an all male calling. If we ordain women there would be more priests and priests who care about the life of the faith.
We can also prevent the exodus of priests by allowing the to encourage them to participate in the power they do have and give them more prominence. The Second Vatican Council changed the church to concentrate on the lay. The priest now faces the congregation when blessing the host, the mass is spoken in the vernacular, and they read at the pulpit and serve the Eucharist.
The problem is that there is a devout class that rises to fill these tasks, not a community. The tasks of the basic Christian (feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, mourning the dead, visiting the imprisoned) are left to the priest, not giving him time for the sacraments. The parish members who avoid these tasks are betraying the faith. To save the priesthood the lay will need to follow their obligations.
The last is transparency. The Vatican is ancient and large and beaurocracy comes naturally, which causes a split between the church at home and the Church of Rome. The Church of Rome is contained with in a hermetic bubble, with a tendency towards interior contradiction. For example speaking constantly about the importance of Ecumenism and then delivering an encyclical on the Superiority of Catholicism. There is also the censoring of Liberation Theologists. Five years after the pope did this he was talking about the power of the worker on the floor of Saint Peters.
To Change the church, to make it relevant and to stop the bleeding of Priests and parishioners is to prayerfully consider the implications of who we are. It is to fulfill the duties of faith and demand clear direction from Rome and our diocese. We need to agitate for change, because with out change, the damage done will be irreversible.

its nearing 4, and i am sober but tired.

i just finished writing about the catholic church and reading about iannana over mozza sticks at the local dennys.

on my way there an upper class even mix of whites and asians in suits poured out of a 4 star hotel drunk and jublient from a wedding

at denny themselves there were club kids in their slut clothes, a drag queen and her court, priest(s), a birthday (who celebrates their birthday at 4 am at a dennys ?), a man in a powder blue polyester suit, secuirty officers, cops, someone dealing dope in the shitter

walking back a man asked if i knew where he could get a little skirt in a tone of voice that suggested little meant age - there is a tandorri hut next door thats still open.

i write good first drafts in public places over greasy food.

Damian

jason from fearsome piratesent me this one line email : < br>
forgive him

and i was confused, until i read my blog and realized what i posted about my father

i have forgiven him, but have not told him that. does this mean i havent ?

i dont know what to think, but it does feel good to think people read this thing.

i have decided against continuing at the university of alberta. i did very well on my S.A.Ts and have applied to several schools in the states, i am going to the twin citices in december to follow up. i have also applied to calgary to take english, lethbridge for art history, simon fraser for film studies and brandon for education. i cannot deal with the game playing that infects the university. i cannot stomach the long knives disembowlling religious studies,film studies and interdiscpinary programs. kristin was supposed to get ahold of me re: smog and pitchfork and it aint happening, my peice for freaky trigger seems in dry dock. i had two assignments for the gateway i let drop and im feeling itensely depressed lately, like i should chuck it all and study a trade or something.

my father told me today he was a bad father. he was. what do i tell him.

sort of dont have a comp, using the uni machines or friends machines. have things due with pitchfork and gateway.

been working on a massive response to an 8 page goldbrath poem.

went to an lds wedding today. roast beef seems to be the theme. 6 people asked me when i will settle down with a nice girl dont eveb have a nice boy

forgot danielles url so if shes reading this- let me now

talked to daniel for an hour and a half about things, and he says he read this so i have to be more digilent on keeping my peeps informed.

interesting shit on pyschogeography.

i just went to blockbuster to see if they had any liz taylor movies . they had 8 copies of patch adams
they had no liz taylor movies.

larry rivers died last night.

nyt register, its free.

pamela de barres was running thru heathrow, trying to make an appointment. she had 3 plaster cocks in her bag, two well hidden one not. she was afraid of getting caught with obscene objects so sidelined into a washroom, stuffed one up her kegel strenghtened cunt and sailed thru customs

sea lions escaped from the prauge zoo due to flooding, just swam away.

I am preparing a paper for publication. It is a year long process and i am not even sure it will happen-but my classics prof thinks im good enough.

i have been feeling in the last few months like an adolescent. i am shedding my old life and painfully emerging into some thing else.
To prove my point, last night i had a wet dream. I didnt even have those when i was 14, though i havent wanked in a week and a half.

Oh and my classics prof got her doctorate on friday.

YEAH LISA.

I have spent 28 out of the last 36 hours at the folk fest, writing it up for the university paper.
There are 90 pages of notes written in my cryptic scrawl, some times with a bit of short hand thrown in for conveince. It's going to be a herculean task to sort out what of my writing is good, take my interviews and notes on the music and musing on the scene , but there will have to be a 500 word summary and it will happen.