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She lived her life under near-constant surveillance and was continually stressed by interactions with the human world. She was tracked and logged as data, reflecting the way we have come to see the world around us through Tron and Matrix-like filters, qualifying and quantifying everything, rather than experiencing and interacting.
Posted on February 7, 2012
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ABSTRACT: A troubled girl lives in apartment in Greenwich Village. She is always losing things, and she carries a flask of Scotch around in her handbag to help her through daily crises. Her daily life in the city is described through street scenes & subway scenes. She thinks about her stay on an island off the coast of Maine with her lover. The holiday wasn’t a success. She stops in at St. Patrick’s Cathedral & inadvertently finds herself telling a priest that it has been 15 years since her last confession. She goes on talking for a while & he tells her if she is in trouble she can come to the rectory next Wednesday & speak with him. She tells him she is frightened to death but he chooses not to hear. She leaves, and starts uptown for an appointment. She is in a doctor’s office lying on a table. Somebody cried, “Hey that hurts, it hurts.” Slurp, water whizzing in the basin. Will it travel down the sewers like an abandoned pet, eyeless, lost to the gene pool, never to breed? Doctor having left the room, his assistant matter-of-factly sprinkled water over what was in the basin, saying, “I baptize thee in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.” “You are baptizing a newt”, she said reproachfully. In the next scene she is at a party.
Posted on December 19, 2011 with 2 notes
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On the last day of the world
I would want to plant a treePosted on December 2, 2011
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And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting—on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave ….
So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark — that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.
Posted on August 24, 2011 with 1 note
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According to the Weekly World News, the discovery of Bat Boy’s family tree on a genealogy chart recently stunned evolutionary scientists who used to think the famed imp was a pitiful, one-of-a-kind mutant - but now believe he belongs to a race of creatures who have interacted with humans for at least 400 years. In the tabloid’s account, the chart itself was written on vellum and found in the same Ozark Mountains cave where Dr. Ron Dillon, a biologist, rescued Bat Boy after he was trapped by a falling rock in 1992 (it should be noted, however, that the Ozark Mountains are nowhere near West Virginia).
Posted on May 12, 2011
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There is nothing more practical in the end than the preservation of beauty.
Theodore RooseveltPosted on March 13, 2011
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When was that? In the previous life. Well, yes, these things happened. But we forgot about it. We have been working on our mistakes. But trust me, those were great games. Fans were excited! Unfortunately, not our fans.
Posted on March 8, 2011
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We have learned to fly the air like birds and swim the sea like fish, but we have not learned the simple art of living together as brothers.
Posted on January 18, 2011 with 4 notes
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I know it is the fashion to say that most of recorded history is lies anyway. I am willing to believe that history is for the most part inaccurate and biased, but what is peculiar to our own age is the abandonment of the idea that history could be truthfully written.
Posted on December 28, 2010
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… at a time when people in America are desperate and you’re raking in the bucks promoting some sleazy Free Credit Score dot-com, maybe you shouldn’t be asking us for sympathy. Instead, you should be down on your knees thanking God and/or Ronald Reagan that you were lucky enough to be born in a country where a useless schmuck who contributes absolutely nothing to society can somehow manage to find himself in the top marginal tax bracket.
Posted on November 21, 2010
