Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Go, and never darken my towels again! [Groucho]

hey, you looking at me?

The Libertine
--Aphra Behn

A thousand martyrs I have made,
All sacrificed to my desire,
A thousand beauties have betray’d
That languish in resistless fire:
The untamed heart to hand I brought,
And fix’d the wild and wand’ring thought.

I never vow’d nor sigh’d in vain,
But both, tho’ false, were well received;
The fair are pleased to give us pain,
And what they wish is soon believed:
And tho’ I talk’d of wounds and smart,
Love’s pleasures only touch’d my heart.

Alone the glory and the spoil
I always laughing bore away;
The triumphs without pain or toil,
Without the hell the heaven of joy;
And while I thus at random rove
Despise the fools that whine for love.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Mom! Dad! It's evil! Don't touch it! [Kevin, Time Bandits]

Hey, don't smoke!
Funeral Blues
--W. H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

I never forget a face, but in your case I'll be glad to make an exception [Groucho]

go on, make my day...
Does the noise in my head bother you?

Monday, November 28, 2005

Don't worry about life, you're not going to survive it anyway...

are you peeking?
Go to bed with itchy bum, wake up with smelly finger!

The bad news is time flies. The good news is you're the pilot.

Please, don't bore me

Saturday, November 26, 2005

Hang in there!

I couldn't stand you a minute longer...
I hate you
I hate the way you breathe
I hate the way you move
I hate the way you look
I hate your bad breath
Your farts
Your uncleanliness
Your wanting to live
To exist
To be near me

I hate you
Because you smell
You booze
You fuck
You shit
You burp
You flatulate
You pig out

You exist

I hate you

I hate the way you write
The way you speak
The way you walk


Friday, November 25, 2005

It's a rat's life (Guess who drank the radioactive water...?)

yours certainly is!
When rats leave a sinking ship, where exactly do they think they're going?

Share the anger, share the angst

The mind of the past is ungraspable;
the mind of the future is ungraspable;
the mind of the present is ungraspable.
--Diamond Sutra

Nothing in the cry
of cicadas suggests they
are about to die


Opening bell
echoes from the canyon walls --
raindrops on the river.
The sounds of rocks bouncing off rocks;
the shadows of trees traced on trees

Finally out of reach -
No bondage, no dependency.
How calm the ocean,
Towering the void
--Tessho's death poem

My legacy -
What will it be?
Flowers in spring,
The cuckoo in summer,
And the crimson maples
Of autumn ...

I sit, still.
The canyon river chants,
moving mountains.

just as it is,
as it is,
as is.
Flowers in bloom.
Nothing to add.

The sermon spun on the still point:
dropping off eternity, picking up time;
letting go of self, awakened to Mind.

To what shall I compare this life of ours?
Even before I can say
it is like a lightning flash or a dewdrop
it is no more.

Loving old priceless things,
I've scorned those seeking
Truth outside themselves:
Here, on the tip of the nose.

Fathomed at last!
Ocean's dried. Void burst.
Without an obstacle in sight,
It's everywhere!

Spring has its hundred flowers,
Autumn its moon,
Summer has its cooling breezes,
Winter its snow.
If you allow no idle concerns
To weight on your heart,
Your whole life will be one
Perennial good season.
--The Golden Age of Zen

Thursday, November 24, 2005

You're talking through the wrong orifice

waste producer
Any fool can criticize, condemn, and complain - and most fools do.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Big mouths speak with forked tongue

a loud nothing
If at first you don't succeed, failure may be your style.
--Quentin Crisp

This is MY blood

leave it alone!
Pointed criticism, if accurate, often gives the artist an inner sense of relief. The criticism that damages is that which disparages, dismisses, ridicules, or condemns.
--W E Henley

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Arggggh, the pain and the waste!

shut up!
In any sufficiently large group of people, most are idiots.
--Kaa's Law

Monday, November 21, 2005


halt the blabber

Sunday, November 20, 2005

How can I make you stop drilling my brain with your nonsense?

you're wasting my mind
Wise men talk because they have something to say. Fools talk because they have to say something.
-- Plato

Saturday, November 19, 2005

Ready to reap the wasters -- knock, knock...who's there?

I'm gonna waste you!

Thursday, November 17, 2005

A crock of...

the timewaster factory - there's always one plopping down
A timewaster in the making!