The EsoTERRYc Chronicles (Cont.)
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Brian Musikoff’s rendering of the long lost Monday Night Football Cartoon, discovered by Tom Scharpling. 1 of 3.
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Hey! Arrested Devaa;dslfskandsf;asohgodwhyyyyyy
via fuckyeahdementia:
well that’s weird
(via thebluthcompany)
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Exploded Chuck Close (via The Exploded Portraits of Lola Dupré | Yatzer)
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“Two possibilities exist: Either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.”— Arthur C. Clarke
Put this in your pipe and smoke it:
The lawmakers are idiots.
The dirty laundry airers are idiots.
The law-abiding citizens are idiots.
The lawn-sitting denizens of my Chi Town den of thieves are idiots.
The idiots are here!
Now take a long walk off a short pier…
Are these fools playing possum or are they really dead?
Did they shoot themselves in the foot or shoot themselves in the head?
They made their beds for everyone to sleep in
And hired the Feds for everyone to keep in
Mind over matter as a matter of fact.
Disappearing act when it comes down to it.
Who’s actually creating change or creating at all?
So many antis and I get it. I do.
But who’s pro-anything anymore? Haiku.
Why you sit there and do nothing is beyond me, I swear.
Hair of the dog that bit you will set you free, and if it doesn’t
I got your back with one arm tied behind mine. Truth or dare.
The protestors are idiots.
The politicians are idiots.
They’re all a bunch of fucking idiots!
You’re an idiot for reading this.
I’m an idiot for writing this…
…But I’ve got a lot of solid ideas about peace and justice, but I’m just a sage
In the digital age…
Incubator, Incubus, Ink, Inc.
Like a caterpillar in its cocoon,
We marinate. We swoon
Over the possibility to precipitate change
From midnight to noon
This planet is filled to the brim with hippocrates.
But would Hippocrates even sneeze at the amount of justice being served in these times of strife and struggle.
We juggle 2-3 jobs trying to make ends meet.
Take a seat and listen, tweetin’ while I glisten.
“Who the fuck left the cap off my Glisten?” -George, Sr.
Our development is arrested
Patience is being tested
Patients being blessed with an opportunity to heal.
So tell me: how do you feel?
“Aliens landed and said our planet wasn’t worth invading. Because all of our natural resources are fading.” -Deltron 3030
Does it feel like it’s the end of the world?
Well, maybe it should but who cares if it is or isn’t.
Organic and pure, future turns to present.
We’re living in the universe’s 4%.
And it gets to me that the mystery is becoming less and less important than what’s hip to be
In terms of considering a lifestyle that’s really environmentally friendly, really race relation appropriate, and balanced to promote self awareness leading to consciousness of your surroundings.
Being Green fights racism.
These words combat fascism.
Naïve natives and ignorant implants apply the same methods and trains of off-track thought to maintain the madness. Helping their own cause, and allowing themselves to sleep at night.
I don’t rob. I ain’t a snob.
I’m somewhere in between Malcolm and Bob.
Incubator, Incubus, Ink, Inc.
I am God.
I am I.
I am calculated. I am on the fly.
I am transparently blurring all the lines at once.
I am all the ethnicities, all the cities ever to exist.
I am the exit, and I am the entrance.
I am Terrance. I am just another walrus.
I am peach colored flesh, blood red and blue.
I am me and I am you.
I am Pangean, Puerto Rican, Mexican, Native American.
I am European, Anglo-Saxon. I am African and I am battling.
I am Canadian, Vietnamese and Hawaiian.
I am Anciently Greek. I am geek.
I seek universality. I am forced to bite my tongue in cheek.
I am surviving in my fitted. That’s Galapagos speak
For being all you can be, be, be…
In spite of all the nonsense though:
We are Gods. We are we.
We are human, alien, changing.
We are Asian and Australian, but we are failing.
We are Antarctican, anti-hailing.
Forget about where we’re from,
Think about where we’re to.
We are here. We are now.
We are spherical. We are round.
We are infinite. We are wowed.
We are definitely sophisticated and sound.
Believe what you wanna believe in.
Propaganda propagates ignorance and instigates the dumbing down of an entire population.
I fought for pure thought, and pure thought won.
Ready now?
1-2-3-Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
I’ll be me.
You
BE YOU.
One night a few years ago as I was driving down a narrow alley in downtown LA a car approached from the other direction, ignoring the conspicuous ONE WAY sign pointing in my favor. Our vehicles met and paused. It was a showdown. From the opposing car’s sunroof, an athletic young man in a backwards baseball cap popped out like a jack in the box, his arms outstretched in the universal symbol of manly martyrdom popularized by Creed frontman Scott Stapp.
“It’s a one way street, yo!” the young man roared. He was half my age.
I think about this moment a lot when I’m in traffic, or alleys, or being confronted by angry men popping out of things. What, exactly, happened? There are at least three meanings that could be attached to this seemingly simple interaction. The obvious reading—that Stapp Lite was too dumb to realize his error—seems a little too obvious. My gut tells me he didn’t care about his error, or he didn’t care about his error to such a great extent that he wanted it made clear that the error was mine in challenging him (by not immediately evaporating into a cloud of dust).
Stupid people are more complex than we give them credit for. A 1999 Cornell University study, “How Difficulties in Recognizing One’s Own Incompetence Lead to Inflated Self-Assessments,” reached one inescapable conclusion: stupidity bolsters confidence to, more or less, the same degree that smartness weakens confidence. The less you know, the less you don’t know what you don’t know.
Classic egghead East Coast bullshit, right? The study, however, ignored one crucial distinction. People who don’t know they are stupid are not necessarily the same as people who shamelessly flaunt their stupidity. Bush 2, Sarah Palin, and Rick Perry (the governor, not the candidate) all made careers for themselves by playing up their stupidity as a denial of eggheadishness. Secretly, of course, they conceded to their pals that they were terribly smart by allowing us coastal eggheads—the true dummies, in an intuitive, down to earth sense—to believe that they, the alleged dummies, were, in fact, dumb to begin with.
It’s complicated! Making things even more complicated, there’s plenty of overlap between Self Aware Stupids and Stupid Stupids. Pundit Michelle Malkin scolds bookworms for their bookworminess, but she also uses the word “idiocracy” without acknowledging the recent movie of the same name which depicts, in graphic detail, what would happen to this civilization if she and her buddies were allowed to continue pooping all over everything. Millions of stupid people buy books (Arguing With Idiots, If Democrats Had Any Brains, They’d Be Republicans), written to make them believe their stupidity is morally superior to prevailing smartness. Every week, some nationally elected goofball wins supporters by treating a Colbert or Onion story like a bona fide outrage. The Get A Brain Morans guy could absolutely run for office on the strength of one simple typo.
As for Sunroof Bro, I had a vision that night in the alley; he would someday work in the hospital or Hospice I would reside in as an old man. He’d still wear a backwards baseball cap. Years of violent, sexual workouts would have made his body lean and hard, so that he would tower over my feeble, bedridden figure while exclaiming, for the sake of his chuckling buddies, “check out this fucking egghead.”
And when I looked up, a single tear rolling down my wrinkled cheeks, he’d puff his chest out and be all like, “WHAT!?”
Previously – Waiting for a 9.2
http://drinkingtownwithasportsproblem.wordpress.com/2012/02/07/the-saniterryum-dictum-meum-pactum/
Read this every Tuesday. Share this with anyone who knows how to read and think. Love…
Writing is something that eventually consumes you. Deny it all you want, but it should encompass your total soul if it’s what you love to do. That really goes for anything that anyone finds themselves passionate about in life. Creating anything inherently consumes your core. In the days of yore, the ease with which we are able to get our stuff to the eyes and ears of the masses did not exist. In the days of yore, it was a chore to get something published, or recorded, or hung in a gallery, or showcase your skills in their signified setting.
Nowadays, we create our own galleries in the streets. We improvise with Pop Up galleries of our own creation. We blog online, essentially publishing ourselves everyday, if we feel the need. We write and write and write. We record music on SoundCloud, in our friends’ attics, basements and padded closets: makeshift recording studios on our own terms. We are innovators, plain and simple. We are here and now, complex and intricately complicated.
Definitions do not exist.
This thesis I’m working on right now is rapidly developing into my first book. I’m tentatively calling it “Some Of Us.” I’m hoping it will bring all of us living on this largely ironic rock floating in the universe to a place of understanding, of oneness, of empathy and realization of our true capability.
Part poetry, part non-fiction philosophy, “Some Of Us” began back in December of 2011. It explores our innate ability to look past our similarities to, for one reason or another, to focus on our differences.
“Some Of Us” reminds the reader that despite what you’ve been brainwashed to believe, we are all here to accomplish and contribute.
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