Friday, September 29, 2006

america, RIP, 1776 - 2006

well, we've arrived. we stand on the gleaming shores of our Own Brave New World. a world where you can be held indefinitely, without knowing the charges against you, be tortured by any number of Presidentially Approved methods that may or may not violate Geneva Conventions, never see a lawyer and never have a public trial, a world where you must watch what you say and who you say it to. a world where the twisted savages amongst us are running wild and tearing the throat out of what's left of the American Dream, gleefully rutting in the bloody muck, snorting and bellowing, the foul stench of pure loyalist shit rising like a deadly mist all around us. these are dark days. it is no longer about debate, it is no longer about reaching a middle of the road compromise. no no, it is now about defining yourself as PRO TORTURE and PRO WAR or not. and if you support the current administration and its headlong rush into soft fascism and the full apparatus of a Comfortable Police State, then you support the terrorists who want America dead. get it? you want the same thing they do: the end of the America of freedom and justice, of habeus corpus and the Bill of Rights, the end of privacy and personal space, the end of the very principles that we fucking stand for here in this goddamn country.

go here, here, and here (for how we have it in Fulton County, GA) if you want to get a better idea of what the fuck is going on.

I leave you with this:

Okay. That's it for now. Read it and weep...See you tomorrow, folks. You haven't heard the last of me. I am the one who speaks for the spirit of freedom and decency in you. Shit. Somebody has to do it.

We have become a Nazi monster in the eyes of the whole world - a nation of bullies and bastards who would rather kill than live peacefully. We are not just Whores for power and oil, but killer whores with hate and fear in our hearts. We are human scum, and that is how history will judge us. No redeeming social value. Just whores. Get out of our way, or we'll kill you.

Well, shit on that dumbness. George W. Bush does not speak for me or my son or my mother or my friends or the people I respect in this world. We didn't vote for these cheap, greedy little killers who speak for America today - and we will not vote for them again in 2002. Or 2004. Or ever.

Who does vote for these dishonest shitheads? Who among us can be happy and proud of having all this innocent blood on our hands? Who are these swine? These flag-sucking halfwits who get fleeced and fooled by stupid little rich kids like George Bush?

They are the same ones who wanted to have Muhammad Ali locked up for refusing to kill gooks. They speak for all that is cruel and stupid and vicious in the American character. They are the racists and hate mongers among us - they are the Ku Klux Klan. I piss down the throats of these Nazis.

And I am too old to worry about whether they like it or not. Fuck them.

-- Hunter S. Thompson, Kingdom Of Fear, (2003)

still more later...

Saturday, September 16, 2006

how to understand things...

how to understand the president (interpreter provided):

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

some lit shiz...

greetings, all. things have been crazy busy with the Guerilla Poetics Project, and we've only just begun. there is quite a bit of so-called "buzz" in the small press, with mentions appearing in a number of places and we're but a month old. there have been discussions of interviews, ad space, press releases, and much more. soon, there will be a Guerilla Poetics Project Reader available which will feature selected poems from Core Members, and all proceeds from its sale will go to further the GPP cause. we are "money where your mouth is" poets here, and we like to get things done. so head over to the website or the blog and sign up, donate your time, energy and MONEY to the cause. art is a dying animal in this modern world and we are its fucking life support, kids.

on the home front, I've had poems taken by Words Dance for their print issue, and by Pearl...hmmm, others, but my desk is a fucking shitpile and I can't find anything right now...looking....oh, this, from The Iconoclast is damn good:

Thru the Heart of This Animal Life, A Measure of Impossible Humor

Christopher Cunningham

everyone is someone else's mark

In a few short years, Mr. Cunningham has produced a body of work that should be the envy of those establishment small press names we grew tired of a long time ago. Not only the poems, but the production values are fresh, with the poet taking a hand in making each of his chapbooks special. If nothing else, Mr. Cunningham is the champion of common (or uncommon) dignity - those left among us who haven't yet been swept away by Jesus or Nascar - who work with their hands - who know their dreams ended on Day 1 but manage to survive, if not always gracefully, then with a kind of madness that would be the envy of a division of pill poppers.

[First Prize Winner 2005 Nerve Cowboy Chapbook Contest]

money is invigorating:
when you have it,
you are somebody.
when you don't,
you can only afford

-- from crossroads

($6, 44pp, Liquid Paper Press, PO Box 4973, Austin, TX 78765)

makes you wanna run out and buy it, right? well, you can and you can support the Guerilla Poetics Project while you're at it. go here and purchase the book, plus other great works, and every dime goes to fund the Project and its efforts to spread the dementia of the greatest writers in the small press to the culture at large.

do it.

more later...

Saturday, September 09, 2006

coming soon...

more from me.

I promise.

go here to see the new Guerilla Poetics Project site. we're gonna take over the reader at a time.

I'll update with some lit news and some goodies later, but in the meantime, if there's anyone still out there, please feel free to use this as an open thread; talk about what's on your mind...

Saturday, September 02, 2006

"Thoughts, Pt. 1" from Berriozabal...

Why do we spend so much effort, money, and resources to explore the moon? Why do scientists and mathematicians spend their lives in solving complex equations or investigating the existence of God? And if in fact it is proven that God does or does not exist, what is to become of these findings? World War III? Is that why the moon seems like such a desired destination, where the human race can escape to after the earth is blown all to hell? And if there is not a God, who is going to take his place? Will it be the people who control the world through power, wealth, and amassing the most dangerous weapons in terms of destruction-making capabilities. Why doesn't the earth concentrate on dealing with the earth's problems before sending spacemen out to space? Such a question is too simple, I'll leave that to all of you to answer. It seems like the human race is always seeking what others have, never satisfied with what they have. There is so much of the earth that we don't know about, and so much we know about that we could solve without resorting to genocide, outright thievery, and enslavement of the mind, body, and soul. How much did it cost to wipe out Pluto from planet-hood? Who wants to be God? Those who say aye might suffer Pluto's fate.

- Luis C. Berriozabal

go HERE for a review of Luis' book Raw Materials

**posted for LCB by CC**