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Writings and such of Quinn

Posted 19 February 2003, 12.21 am by Unforgiven

Writings/Speeches by Daniel Quinn, Sine I know a few grinders at least have read his work, and a good thing for someone interested in his work, but doesn't want to invest the time into a book. Whether or not you agree with him, it's interesting.

Pain

Posted 18 February 2003, 8.13 pm by Arguile

I've never felt like I feel now
I don't think anything can compare
Everything is beyond belief
I suppose it's not fair
That I'm to feel this way

How many others have had what I had?
Did they realize it too late like me,
Or did they cherish it until it fled
You're part of all that I will be
And nothing we do will change that

I can't tell you what you mean
I can't show you how I feel
Like the sands of time, you've slipped away
Beyond my grasp, beyond my reach
But still I flee through the hourglass
Stretching for a single grain
That resembles all that I once had
And all that I've ever wanted

Every song I sing brings a tear
Every word I write brings me pain
So much self-inflicted torment
Showering me like masochistic rain
Reminding me of what I once had

But still I grasp to thin straws
No matter how I need to be free
I know that I cannot let this be gone
Because it would take a piece of me
And leave a void where it once sat

I can't tell you what you mean
I can't show you how I feel
Like the sands of time, you've slipped away
Beyond my grasp, beyond my reach
Like Alice down the rabbit hole
I blindly leap for something unseen
Knowing that it could lead me home
Or someplace I could relate

Download the Internet

Posted 18 February 2003, 7.03 pm by Craig


Visit Site.

A Virtual Paradise

Posted 18 February 2003, 6.12 am by firebrand

If one is of the bookish persuasion that is.

Just in case you haven't found it yet:

Gutenberg.net

classics. online. free.

Prequel To BushStar Wars 2003

Posted 17 February 2003, 11.57 pm by eggmachine

15.2.03

War is looming. The Empire of Blair and Bush are projecting the overthrow of Saddam Hussein, who is not only the most evil man on the planet, but is obstructing them from taking enough oil to fuel their empire for a while longer. Iraq’s client government-in-exile are discussing how to apportion the spoils. Britain is preparing to demonstrate again against this pain-bringing war. The world is demonstrating again against this pain-bringing war.

Got up 6.30.
The papers (which usually all-but-ignore demonstrations) have printed a map of London with the routes shown as sweeping arrows, a programme like you’d have for Glastonbury of the after-demo rally in Hyde Park, with speakers including Tariq Ali, Tony Benn, Mo Mowlam, Ken congestioncharge Livingstone, Bianca Jagger (whose husband ‘allegedl’y’ thru a tv set thru the window of a hotel near Hyde Park), Charles Kennedy, Jesse Jackson headlining and music from Ms. Dynamite-ee-hee and Damon Albarn, once part of Tony Blair’s Cool Britannia of Blur, Oasis, Damien Hirst all go to hip parties in our new-grooving capital.
I’ve ate my sandwiches in the night so I make some more out of Gromit’s kitchen.
Taxi with Gromit to pick up Fli for 7.45 meet at Memorial Gardens next to the new expensive flats that look like a fourpack of square liqueur flasks.
Fli is amazingly up and prepared with money and a bottle of white lightning. I don’t agree with the stuff, but it is a must for a protest of such ridiculously UndemocraticTerroristsDontAppreciateBlair’sConviction-al dimensions as 2million people walking through London.
Taxi driver’s brother is going. He’ll be watching the telly footage. Of course he agrees entirely this war is a nasty sadist fantasy.
People are milling round the grass triangle. We tell the poet Brinley Price we’ll save him a seat on the coach. We are Coach 19, Wynn Travel with green and blue floppy parallelograms on the side like the harmoniums from The Sirens of Titan (Kurt Vonnegut). Our coach fills up with all manner of people who all agree that Blair is making a murderously stupid mistake in going to bed I mean war with George Bush. Someone gets on the coach and asks Is Jane Austen on this coach? and gets off again. We suspect Bart Simpson sent him.

Darth Blair paces sinisterly around his chambers, nibbling at a ciabatta. His human-rights wife is being exposed by the media again, and even the police’s underestimates of the protesters’ numbers would send the anti-war movement hyperventilating with optimism. Darth Blair can’t sleep nights. Anxiety shows on the faces of his lieutenants, Jack Straw and Dave Blunkett. Darth Blair is taking valium.
Already he has lost a minister of transport and a minister of schools to senseless blunders.
Is his whole government to be next?

We reach London around 12.30. We’re late, but join the march on the north route from Gower Street.
Soon, Gromit, Fli and myself lose our banner amidst

All the people
So many people
And they all go hand in hand
Hand iin hand to
Say- - -

1-2-3-4
We don’t want your racist war
5-6-7-8
Stop the killing stop the hate
(x 57)

and you only pass a couple of replicated police every 20 minutes and its obvious that this isn’t a usual-suspects demo, it isn’t even a leftwing demo, it’s a demo of anyone who is intelligent and honest enough to come to London to pronounce their prime minister a warmongering fool.
Fli is recording on the dictaphone, Gromit is doing visuals, there’s banners and people waving out of windows and playing All You Need Is Love out of windows, and a samba band and Bradford punks and a troop of space hopper peace cadets

Space hoppers
Not Star Wars

And 12 foot high puppets of Uncle Sam and a Quentin Blakey man, and teachers and people waving placards saying Stop Insulting Poodles, and people with banners showing Tony as Bush’s poodle, and children on megaphones, and people up and down as far as you can see, it takes us 6 hours to ‘march’ 3 miles and so we all chant

-War -
-Hurgh~+
-What is it good for?
-Absolutetely nuttin…
-Say it again-
(x 46)

We miss all the speeches, but have a funpacked day of being in the right place, rather than being a devious politico who spends all our taxes on focus groups, but doesn’t realise the biggest demonstration in British history means he isn’t paying any attention to our views.
He’d rather be swapping wives with Bush.

Bush and Blair sitting in a tree
K-I-L-L-I-N-G

AKP interview online...

Posted 17 February 2003, 11.06 pm by kidjuxta

Please chek out the brand new interview with Alex here on www.geocities.com/kidjuxta

Dream a Little Dream

Posted 17 February 2003, 10.27 am by The_Roach

This is a dream I had back in July of last year while I was unemployed. I very rarely remember my dreams within seconds of waking from them, so I try to write them down if they stick for any longer than that. Here's an example of my subconcious:

I got a job. It's at some department store. I'm not entirely sure on the details, but it has something to do with standing around collecting medical information on people and, occasionally, checks. It also has something to do with former NBA All-star Charles Barkley sitting on a metal folding chair looking like, well, former NBA All-Star Charles Barkley. I mention that because he was next to us, being gawked at by the line of people waiting to give us their medical information and/or check. I remember thinking after my first day that I wasn't certain what I'd just done with my day, but at least it was a job. My friend helped me get it. I think it was Bianca.

Bianca is a bitch, but I mean that in the nicest way possible. There's absolutely no denying that she's an utter pain in the ass, but she and I always got on very well in high school. I got along with a lot of bitches in high school. Probably because I didn't particularly care if they were mean-spirited towards everyone else. She's a very talented artist, does these amazing sketches, I mean stunning. Her figure drawing was always spectacular. She's also very, very, white. Quite possibly, the whitest person I've ever seen. Remember that.

After working the second day, we went to some electronics store and I was telling Bianca about mp3 and what could be done with it. She ended up deciding that she wanted to buy a CD-R, portable mp3 player, some bizarre stereo headset, and a cable modem. The store was a little weird. There didn't seem to be any employees, except for behind the counter, and everything was up on fairly high shelves (maybe I should have been looking for a job here). Apparently, everyone was expected to retrieve their purchases on their own. There were a few ladders scattered about. So I helped my friend retrieve her purchases. The cable modem (made by Palm, I don't know why that detail remains with me, probably because I don't think they even make cable modems) was on a particularly difficult to reach shelf and required the tallest ladder to get to. It was sitting by a group of kids who were chatting. When I went to obtain it, the tallest of the three had somehow managed to get his jeans stuck on it, and there was some difficulty in extricating himself from the ladder before I could take it. I think I knew him from somewhere, but I can't place it now.

After all of her purchases had been made, my friend had to do something, go to a movie, or go to work in a movie theatre, something like that. She assured me that her father would be happy to give me a ride home. He was driving her car, some used thing she had just bought. On the drive to my home, I was sitting in the passenger seat, and someone else was sitting in the back. Her father spent the entire ride talking about something of vast social importance, but I'll be damned if I can remember what it was because I was too busy wondering why the hell I was in a car driven by Bill Cosby. I looked at him, mesmerized for most of the drive, and he kept glancing at me in between looking at his friend or the road while he talked. He had these thin sunglasses on, with smoky lenses that you could barely see his eyes through. His expression whenever he looked me in the eye was kinda like "Why are you staring at me? I'm gonna kick your fucking ass if you don't knock that shit off."

After a while, I just turned and looked out the windshield. A green car was making a left turn in front of us. I don't know if Cosby noticed him or not, but we hit him pretty hard. It was a small car, I remember that, because after we hit it, despite being hit in a fashion that would have forced it to slide in front of us, slowing our car until the time in which we would stop, it disappeared underneath our vehicle instead. Cosby didn't slow for a second. He said something like "I'll be damned if I'm letting someone get another insurance claim against me." The next thing I know, there's cops all over the place, and they've all seen the hit and run. It's at this time, when Cosby is about to be pulled over, that I realize I haven't been wearing my seatbelt. I put it on, and woke up.

665

Posted 15 February 2003, 6.57 pm by firebrand

I don't really know how to describe it, but I think it's pretty damn amusing.

665

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Doggybag/baggy_dog is an artist living and working in Barga, Italy. Click here to read about this piece in his own words.


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Hmph

80s candy bars were pretty good

only because i traded it for a candy bar in the 80's.

lol we all know you don't have a soul ghoti

my soul for some carbs...

But of course!

Yo ! Does this work ?

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