Saturday, July 26, 2003

Good though. Let me get that through. I don't mean to razz something I like because I feel I ought to. I felt compelled to set that straight, that the album is pretty darn good and I'm enjoying it. I felt compelled because of a passage from the Screwtape Letters where Screwtape gives Wormwood this piece of advice for demonic work,
"You should always try to make the patient abandon the people or food or books he really likes in favour of the `best' people, the `right' food, the `important' books."

God save me from "ought to." And all of you as well.
Let's do one of these, shall we?

Reading: Martian Time-Slip by Philip K. Dick
Watching: Sweet and Low Down (rewatching and loving all over again)
Listening to: Dead Set

And it's the second Alanis album, I think, for those of you who are keeping score at home. The one with the cover full of a bunch of words and grinning teeth that are as white as my ass.
I accomplished much this sabbath and I even slept in an extra half hour.
After breakfast I went with my mother to the DVD store because they were having extra points towards gift certificates that they send you when you spend enough with their silly buyer's club card. That kind of thing. So, I found myself a Christmas present. The special edition DVD of Fear and Loathing has a commentary track by Gilliam, Depp AND one by HST himself. There's also a disk of documentaries. So, some days I don't regret that tattoo.
We took my grandmother out to lunch. I got a call from Nissa. It's her birthday. We had a nice talk about music and I wished her a happy one.
Mom and I went to the Book Baron and Music Baron. I got "The Sword of the Golem." It's the book that awesome old silent horror film "The Golem" is based on. I also found a used copy of Dead Set and an Alanis album that Niss recommended and I bought because I was made a fan by her performance in Dogma. And I don't care who knows it.

The verdict is that the album is pretty good, but Ani and Kate Bush are always better. That seems to be a lesson I have to keep learning over and over.

Anyway, God bless used places. I haven't paid full price for clothes, books or music for almost a year now... nor could I afford to if I wanted to.
We went to the grocery store and the pet place to get Toulouse (my cichlid) some feeders (six, which he ate in less than twenty minutes.)
For dinner I made us some Boca Italian sausages which we ate in hot dog buns with ranch dressing. We also had a sprite melon and s'mores that I made on the propane grill. And limeade. I love limeade in summer. We ate out on the porch swing like good Americans.
We also went for a walk afterwards. Now I'm very sleepy. But I wrote a ghazal too which I'll post very soon.

Friday, July 25, 2003

The Cabaret Voltaire was a little more structured tonight, which disappointed me a little. There was no point in the show where I felt comfortable going up on stage and I expect it would have been frowned upon. The lady who ran it admitted that she knew nothing about dada.
It was still cool to go up and see a good deal of my new LA friends. I also got to see a NASA scientist rollerskating. That alone was worth the price of admission. There was a really good poem read, a funny stoned guy with a guitar and an alien lollypop, and a part where the lady conducted the audience with pre-passed out statements about herself. So, it was kinda neat.
Other neat things today, Charles and I got stranded until my car cooled down enough to refill the radiator and we got to talk about crack and Elvis separately. I mean we didn't connect the two subjects. Also, I won an ebay auction of a book of satires from Lord Alfred Douglas. 1926, limited printing of 550 copies. It's mainly material smearing Robert Ross like Douglas' papa did to Oscar Wilde.

Thursday, July 24, 2003

Alright. That sonnet's leaving a funny taste in my mouth, so here's a piece that's a little more like what I've been doing lately. Sheesh.
It has no title, but it goes like this:

This summer with it broken heart shards slicing open the bottoms of my feet as I walk,
its smoke grey shells of car engines,
its suffocating humid cloud press.

This summer with its madmen cleaving grocery store heads with swords like melons.
Its flea/wasp/skeeter bumped legs and arms,
its sweat filth skin.

This summer's sky explodes with gun powder colored nights.
Children birds exclaim that they're not working and neither should you in daylight,
Sleeping exhausted after long bike ride.

Summer's heat lays on porch swing hourly books with garden berry juice fresh,
new dove pecked by mother courage strap for 1st solo stomach fill,
dry seeds sit on table like breath mints.

Summer's eyes turn blue green from all bright,
looking dark flesh aimed at sun,
looking tasting good.

Summer forces pull outside by line in lower belly,
Our time drums outdoors feasting sweet ripeness,
gods come in june bugs and hum kiss my lids while slumber.

Blessed summer's tug anger from true heart's impacted teeth.
Mind tunes out affecting rips into blazing moments too clear to ignore.
And before you now bumps next season's weather.
I wrote a sonnet tonight. It's one in the Wordsworth tradition rather than Shakespeare. It goes like this:

What drives men on their mad quest to destroy
to herd all Earth's fragile boon o'er life's edge
and to end all. Men's strength and work they pledge.
Instead of sane backs turned to create joy
Their boots stomp the necks of the hoi polloi.
Ego separates humans from their kin.
Blinded by what seems important within.
The lust of hatred's underside is dredged.

Some would claim the answer is to fight it.
In disgust united they'll hear our moan.
To use our anger doesn't seem right it
might serve instead to make worlds of our own.

With laughs the murderers lose their powers.
All that is alread ours will be ours.

It's been years since I've written in rhyme. But I kind of like it in a way.

Tuesday, July 22, 2003

The heat broke today, but not the humidity. My body responded by sleeping in an hour later than usual. That was nice.
It rained around noon, which was also nice. I don't expect it to last, but the weather is just swell at the moment.
I drove (on my car's last legs) to the Westminster Library and bought more inventory. Since I sold about $200 of books in the last five days, I figured it's time to get some more inventory. It's a question of paying attention to the ebb and flow. It's time to buy.
I got a rare book of vegetarian recipies by an Orthodox monastery (I'm guessing Russian Orthodox from the cat in the author's photo, but they don't make it clear. I guess you're supposed to be in the know if you buy it.) I'm selling it for $55 but I could probably get more for it. It's rare and, in some esoteric circles, in high demand based on the research I did.
I also got the novelization of Quantum Leap, King Solomon's Mines (looking to capitalize off of LXG. Once again my knowledge actually helping me finacially, which is one of the things I love about this job), and a nice crackpot book on the Illuminati. And a lot of other meat and potato books. $190 worth for $8.50. That's the kind of profit margin I deal with. It's all a matter of waiting until the $190 sells. That's the name of the game.

I've got a lot of decisions to make in the near future about where I'm going to live and what I'm going to do. That's what's on my mind at the moment. Also transportation.

The neat news of the day is that I bought tickets for The Dead. They're playing in Irvine in September. So I know I'll be here in the middle of September. I decided I couldn't miss this. I've missed so many great shows because I expected them to come back around. I did that when I got into the Dead in 1995 and thought I'd catch them the next time they toured. But this time, I ain't gonna miss it. I hear that Joan Osborne is singing with them now. I also hear that they're just tearing it up. Neat.
I've decided that the poem I mentioned the other day is very good and I'll type it out very soon.
Today was humid. I have no air conditioning. I just got a fan for my room and, since it is new, it smells like a child's plastic halloween costume. I'm not sleeping. I've taken up sweating instead of sleeping. Actually, I am sleeping, but it takes forever to get there and it's fitful once I do.
I met Poetri tonight. He's from Def Poetry Jam. You should check him out at He's a pretty cool performance artist.
I'm also trying to figure out what to read next. That's how come I aint done my Reading/Watching/Listening To deal for a while. I was terribly disappoined with the Tristan Tzara book. I thought it was a biography, but it's really a dull, academic dissection of his literary output. Explaining it all in turgid words. Kind of takes the meaning out of taking the meaning out of things.
More soon.

Sunday, July 20, 2003

Last night I went to the closing of The Dadaists, the play so nice I saw it thrice. Kelly, Jean Marie, Tyler, Nissa and I all went this time. It was the best performance I'd seen of it yet.
You know, it's rare that I get excited about theater any more. Theater, when I was younger, was something that really could changes live and change the world. It could stoke fires inside of people. Make them angry or joyful or lusty or any range of hightened human emotion. Instead I saw the theaters of the world squandered to make some cheap bucks off of the sit com genre. Phoned in acting, flacid scripts, obediently content audiences. The theater broke my heart because I knew what it could be and wasn't.
The Dadaists was the best show I'd seen in about two years. It made me want to run out and stir things up.
We stayed for some of the party afterwards. I didn't get to sleep until around two thirty and even then I kept waking up all night. I woke up at my normal time this morning and could sleep no more. I'm very tired, but it's also very hot. I don't sleep well in the heat. Maybe I should get a fan for my room. Or one of those personal air conditioners. Yeah. Maybe I'll do that. I just made my quota for the month in sales and my months go from the fifteenth to the fifteenth. I sold another $100 worth of books last night. So I'll be in the money again pretty soon it looks like.