Monthly Archives:
September 2005

the heat is on

I have not been posting lately as a silent protest against my landlord. It is starting to get cooler, which is a natural phenomenon when fall and winter approach, and the heat in my apartment needs to be turned on. Well, the heat is now on and it appears that my act of defiance has paid off. The radiators are now radiating heat. This is good news.

What is also good is my new pants. They fit nice. The company makes even the odd sizes and not just the even sizes. A 32 inch pant-leg is too long and a 30 is too short. So I went with the 31. Just wonderful. The cuffed hem is nice and di I mention that they fit beautifully? The material is soft and warm. Just perfect.

Rita has hit the US now.

“It looks like the Houston and Galveston area has really lucked out,” said Max Mayfield, director of the hurricane centre.

That is what CBC reported even though they have no real reporters right now because they are on strike and are locked out. (More on that in a bit) What I am wondering though is: WHY is there a “hurricane center”? What do people in the hurricane center do? Do they make hurricanes and, if so, why did they make such a terrible one? I mean, come on, this hurricane totally missed Houston and has seemed to almost ignore Galveston. Were they partying too much after the huge success of Katrina? It seems the US can’t do anything right.

But sometimes Canadians botch things too. The CBC had a good thing going and now it looks like it is going to die. 5500 personel are locked out from their jobs and I can’t get any good news and all my late night radio music has turned to Pop-sounding shit. It is nearing a month and a half and I am getting pissed off at the CBC management. This sort of shit is not supposed to happen in Canada. The CBC is a gem but now the scabs are ruining the show leaving me with nothing. To the locked-out employees I say “You go girl, let me hear you roar.”

Oh well. At least my pants are comfortable. I love these pants.

I am the Locust Drenched in Wild Honey

the destroyer wrapped in healing;
the consumer clothed in righteousness;
the disgusting drenched in sugar;
but who am I?
I am the evil of humanity
baptised in the hope of prospect.
I am the 49er sifting
through the debris of society.
I am the compass needle
unobscured by magnetism.
I will be but one of the Saviours
of a satanized, stalinized, capitalized
“civilized” existence.
I am a rejector of Paul
and Proclaimer of Christ:
The reader of the red letter
and the Hebrew Bible.
I am, myself, a New Testament.
I am death revived
and life destroyed.
I am Passerby
and not ambassador with imunity.
I am redeemed and justified
not of or by Paul.
I will to destroy the Jerusalem of Wall St.
and build a new empire.
The locusts will seek, kill, destroy
those pushing camels through the Eye of the Needle.

The Lord’s Prayer

Our Father Augustus Caesar, who art in these thy Substantial Astronomical Telescopic Heavens, Holiness to thy Name or Title, & reverence to thy Shadow. Thy Kingship come upon Earth first & then in Heaven. Give us day by day our Real Taxed Substantial Money bought Bread; deliver from the Holy Ghost whatever cannot be Taxed; for all is debts & Taxes between Caesar & us & one another; lead us not to read the Bible, but let our Bible be Virgil & Shakespeare; & deliver us from Poverty in Jesus, that Evil One. For thine is the Kingship, [or] Allegoric Godship, & the Power, or War, & the Glory, or Law, Ages after Ages in they descendants; for God is only an Allegory of Kings & nothing Else.

Amen
.

[by William Blake]