Cold/Hot: the Decline and Fall

So I went to the boink Burlesque tonight. Managed digits without even fuckin tryin. What the fuck?

People think that we dont understand
What it takes to outta be a man

I've got work early tomorrow
gonna stay awake, drunk, try and write something, then hopefully meet up with Gina for a movie. But nothing really rides on these plans

Sure I need to work.

I don’t care much for that
I don’t know why


I'm working lotsa nights this week, but I made tuesday night at the hub, and I don't feel bad, not one bit. I made it to Deep Ellum, and man, that place is da'shit, but don't believe me, try for yourself.

When I was a kid I saw a light
Floating high above the trees one night

Laura has a new job, and I did my taxes, and I've been saving a message from scott from this morning to savor this evening. Maybe I'll listen to it now.
naw . . .

Thought ‘twas an alien
Turned out to be just god

I've got a riff going and it needs to continue in like fashion lest it be cut off.

Next wednesday, I'll meet Amis again. This time I know I'm a better writer. I can read him and know what he is doing and where he needs to go that he doesn't. When you reach the point that your idols become sketchbooks, you know your ego or your talent need to be controled. I'm hoping its the latter, and that this isn't just some unjustified posturing, some sound and fury, on my part.

f you’re not sure who not to believe
Who has better reasons to decieve

Then they’ll be glad’r
That's all they do


The twentieth century is a minefield. Everything that is worth fictionalizing has been made real. That is what the twentieth has been about. A war without conceivable reason? An extermination without reason? A camp system spread across a continent, all geared towards irreason? That is the twentieth century. Reason applied to irreason, to irrational fears and imbedded prejudice. The twentieth played out all the possibilities of a state gone insane. Gulag archipelago. Vichy.
Stalinism. Auschwitz. Nouns empowered by the state. verbs erased. The dictatorship of is. The rule of has been. processed, enumerated, put to use, eliminated. terminated. Gassed.

You wanna write fiction in the twentieth or thereafter?

Welcome to the realm of cliche and dare not, the realm of cliche and bad-taste. You just can't make this shit up.

Just a fight or just a waste of time
Hiding things that no one wants to find


You wanna write fiction, here in the twenty-first? queu up, pick a spot, grab a ticket. Line the fuck up. There's nothing to be written but what has already been enumerated in blood. From the length of your dick to the size of the galaxy, everything has been enumerated, numbered, devoured, decieved, processed, elimanated, gassed.

This was a much less sunshiney post than I intended.