The Dawning of the Superficial

OK,

Rat-mo said that most blogs are self-centered and self grandizing, so he doesn't read them.

Well good for him.

But, the last couple of post have been that, on my blog for sure.

I will have to get back to serious stuff in 2007.

And, I will read my blog again to see what is up,

Maybe the self needs to be tempered in this experiment.

I seem to have nothing to say about anything but me . . .

And the pictures in my head . . .

Which I enjoy.

Ciao, ciao.

Ding Dong the Witch is Dead -- A Bullet Point Life

OK,

I have been listening to Ding Dong the Witch is Dead by Kermit Ruffins which is playing on my myspace page . . . myspace.com/ unbeachedwhale (cut and paste if you will).

I am still in the middle of the secret project. Tired, muscle aches from lifting an oven, and commuter fatigue. But I march on, though this Xmas Eve is hard. I want to celebrate with everyone else, but I have to finish this stuff. It is like I am a kid with the mumps, watching everyone play from my window.

So, bullet point life:

1. Meet a girl. Trinidadian. Very nice. Will ask her if she wants to go to the opera. I gotta find some opera money first. I can't turn down the Magic Flute.

2. Boys bore me now. No idea why. It is like when I ate a lot of candy corn when I was about eight-years-old from the Sears Department store on Lafayette in Nashville, Tennessee. Now I can barely touch the stuff. Must be the porn, quick sex and lack of conversation.

I need some conversation.

3. Received a book on Jazz that the German musicologist edited and compiled. Makes me miss Germany and the types of projects that are going on there.

4. BBC and Euronews are the bomb . . .who knew half the shit that is going on is going on? I am stuck in capitalist consumer land and Jersey Turnpike purgatory, so no information what so ever.

5. Merry Xmas . . . if I don't speak to you.

Interventionist Thoughts

I got a psychic message the other day about my current job. Today I got confirmation that I should take it.

Anyway, there were several things that got my mind working besides the slight altercation that had my blood raging for a full hour at work.

Things are OK, the cold Chicago brick house food artist, who I wanted to slap in the face with a poisonous jelly fish, and I are going out for a beer later. . . some time very later. I am still looking into some anger management type stuff. I get so worked up, it is like I am ready to fight entirely too much.

OK.

Interventionist Thoughts.

-- I saw a woman so pale that when she walked straight through moving traffic on 58th street tonight her skin and light hair reflected the beams radiating off the head lights of oncoming traffic. It was at about 10 o'clock pm and she was in a total daze, passing through the traffic without flinching, like a Shaolin monk in deep contemplation, wearing a black ankle length coat with a hood. But death was on her walk, she was almost hit.

-- I saw a Christmas tree near Bloomingdale's that I wish my grandmother could have seen. It was beautiful. I just realized that I have received a good amount of my aesthetic sensibility from her enjoyment in observation.

-- When I lived in Germany I sang in a gospel choir with Izora Armstead Rhodes from the Weather Girls. She was in my section, the tenor section, because she was a contralto. Amazingly we had 3 contraltos in the choir that were women. In the short time I knew her I learned a lot about music, and I also learned somethings about church that I did not expect. Izora was not one to change her behavior in a church or out of a church because God watches always. She also said in very direct language that discrimination against people because of their sexual orientation is simply not fair. I miss her in no uncertain terms and wish I could have sung more with her. I just thought of her this moment while writing this post.

There was another singer named Harriet who was the lead alto with Izora's daughter Dee, and mother of the choir. She is wonderful and still tours, but I will never forget when she was talking to me about her first coming to Germany from Philly and not knowing how to act. The world was so open and free to her that she walked the streets taking fruit from the fruit stands thinking it was free.

I don't know why that image visited me so strongly today. Harriet walking down the street, with her long long weave flowing through the air, in a shawl or cape, kept bouncing through my mind. I see her smiling with her bright glossy teeth and speaking to people, touching apples and quinces with her long finger nails, picking her fruit half heartedly because all of Germany is so sweet to her.

Hiatus

OK,

I am beat up. Seriously. Running around in NYC is tiring me out. Plus work is hard now too, so I will have to take a pause from the blogophone to take a nap and catch up on the world. The Baker report looks promising, but also more like the beginning of the true fiasco rather than its logical conclusion.

Need I explain.

Think not.

Gone to fishin'.


PS
I am thinking about this blog differently too. I think it has to do with the job and PU. We will see.

A Thought

What the hell? The Russians are busy spraying radiation all around public places to kill this one guy who has some shit on somebody. Now, if they are doing that, with all their nuclear stock piles and clandestine puffs of smoke, what else have they been doing? Selling uranium to other players?

Meanwhile, my tax dollars are going into Iraq! Please. And Rumsfeld admits that the Iraqi offensive is not working. Can someone give me a double "please" to the wigger in the middle. Man!

We need to call somebody to help get Russia into line. I mean, screw Iran and North Korea! Condi needs and invisible jet and a lasso of truth to figure this one out.

Sexy List for the Future

I am nervous to say what is on my mind. I started this entry and cannot complete it.

Don't know why?

Let's leave it with brioche in the morning, made by me, and some great music. Sun Ra prefered.