“I’m so bored. I hate my life.” - Britney Spears

Das Langweilige ist interessant geworden, weil das Interessante angefangen hat langweilig zu werden. – Thomas Mann

"Never for money/always for love" - The Talking Heads

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Come on, just, tie me to the wall! – Hanin Elias

LI streamed the press conference via the Washington Post site this morning. My reaction to it comes in words can’t really be released from my tongue, because they are long words, in Hittite or something, leaden, chthonic, expressing a hatred and loathing that is older than I am for the creature whose oozing and gurgling at the podium embodied the wadded up effluvium of a million chamber of commerce assholes all shoved up and out one crusted old seamy lead pipe at the Veterans Disease and Fetch Fuck Festival in Tinytown, Applachia; it reminded me of nothing so much as the tune piped by ET spermatozoa colonizing a brain that had caught a fatal dose of athlete’s foot and was eating its syphilitic spinal chord for dinner.

This is my gift to my presidroid: a killer, a moron, a pool of drool.

2 comments:

Alan said...

Roger,

Finally got a post on the happiness/sagacity stuff up here. At the moment the links back to your site are screwed up, but I'm working on straightening that out.

northanger said...

AQ 391 = WE WILL NOT NEGOTIATE (AQ 312 ATARI TEENAGE RIOT) = EVIL IS NEVER ON TRIAL (AQ 508 THE THIRST FOR ANNIHILATION).


"We accumulate wealth in the prospect of a continual expansion, but in societies different from ours the prevalent principle was the contrary one of wasting or losing wealth, of giving or destroying it. Accumulated wealth has the same sense as work; wealth wasted or destroyed in tribal potlatch has the contrary sense of play. Accumulated wealth has nothing but a subordinate value, but wealth that is wasted or destroyed has, to the eyes of those who waste it, or destroy it, a sovereign value; it serves nothing ulterior; only this wastage itself, or this fascinating destruction. Its present sense: its wastage, or the gift that one makes of it, is its final reason for being, and it is due to this that its sense is not able to be put off, and must be in the instant. But it is consumed in that instant. This can be magnificent: those who know how to appreciate consumption are dazzled, but nothing remains of it." —Georges Bataille