The Radio and The Internet

She didn't use the word father, only thought it. She touched him where he lay in the bed. His skin was warm, breathing with her. She let the word she didn't say, all the words that were said and unsaid elsewhere throughout the Brooklyn tenement apartment and the walls spare of any decoration save their coats, outdoor attire. Not so much as a mirror, or one mass-produced stock photo of a landscape or a wild animal.  He didn't guess at her thoughts. He only waited for her thoughts.  "He's not the one who dropped you in the water. Is he."  He grinned with only his right teeth, part of his right eye. He said, "No."  She put her head on his chest, her soft exotic hair like a pony's, where his ancient reborn eyes could count the follicles like straw & rice until the first day of time where it brought them back to the cautious serenity of the room. He thought of her feeble smile and how nothing could erase it from her.  She'd spent long hours th...

They were Austrian-Hungarian by bloodline, something else on paper. Levanarskie's face, in particular, exuded the distressed archaeology of the world before him where the little that could be invested all but predisposed the tablescraps awaiting its investors. The quiet night-morning absorbing their animosity and the sea like some happenstance/heuristical soapcake.  Said Grauerholz, "These are ours, yes?"  "Yes, these are ours."  The crates had ostensibly been dripping into the country for some years, certainly since the Great Depression and Prohibition. America was enormously keen on fortifying the land/property since the post-Civil War Western Expansion, and there was much oil, food and varied other resources from the natural vaults of the earth and with the philosophy of men like Washington and his peers set in the culture like railroad-spikes and those recently discovered dinosaur fossils, the only detail begging to be assured was that families bore children...

                                                          OrbitoPFC                                                              Anterior Cingulate Cortex  Past/Future Mechanism/s                                              Present Recognition; Categorized Thinking Direction/Navigation              Broca's/                                                        Insula /Right Amygdala    ...

America. Some years ago....  The Bush/Gore votes had been counted  for some time and the animosity on Gore's side  hadn't really been extinguished however the country  in a default, general sort of way had moved forward.  By 2003, 2004 the latest, the way I remember it,  you were anti-patriotic if you didn't support  the war and President Bush and everyone else  in the heated pre-X pre-Twitter bullet-loading...discussions  going on in print, the workplace, the et cetera et cetera.  The way I remember it, it never stopped being  maddening and depressing.  Other people, foreign/unseen, immediate/close  weren't burdened by this thing the way  I felt burdened by this thing.  Or if those feelings of agony were mutual,  they seemed deeply-compartmentalized  like pieces of a machine meant  somehow  to be estranged from the others in its assembly.  Some years passed.  Obama took office....

"Writing does not equal typing. Typing is about as much writing as using an etch-a-sketch makes you an accomplished illustrator."  ****  There's something about being born in the 80s,  I think, that develops a person differently.  Something not quite unmistakable but  once you hear it you can't miss it.  Maybe it's because of Reagan.  There hadn't been that sort of consistency  in a president in decades. Maybe  it's because no one studied history. Maybe  it's because when they did they lied.  You don't hear much about Jimmy Carter  except that after he left office he committed  himself to helping poor people. (And I'll always love  him for referencing Bob Dylan even more than  10 years after the fact.)  Certainly no one took the Energy Crisis seriously.  Or racism. Or drug-addiction. Or wealth-inequality.  About ten years earlier than I was born, George McGovern  ran with the party that had se...

Holy Mother Gaia, who is the sky  that preserves the life of her children,  Protect us against our abnormal thoughts and  the illiterate body-language of hapless perverts.  Or do what you can....  I'd woken up about 6 A.M. or so as I usually do,  started the coffeemachine, tidied the room...and it's the part  of the week when I've exhausted the charitable allowance  that my remaining-parent provides, the tophalf of which pays  for the week's supply of marijuana. So I was at  a convenient crossroads of sobriety.  I did some stretching, meditation, a Zazen Buddhist Rosary if you will.  And besides the rest of the day with no close friends, no significant  other, there's YouTube, and I was meant to do a job-screening,  over the phone, to work with children in a school-setting.  I was excited about that.  I've had some trouble with this new phone though  and while I can hear the voice at the other end as ea...

The more things change....  For the last 20 years or so little  of the ephemera and trivia of life  has gone unrecorded.  Sandwiches, emotions, videos watched, audio listened to:  if it's convenient, it's important.  Da Vinci among others would be deeply troubled, and rightly so.  This obsession of calories and body-types does nothing  for film, music, philosophy,  other than create new targets for projects.  (And those targets can become exhausted  as fast as anything else.)  If I didn't know any better, I'd think quantity has replaced  our ability, independent and collective, to produce anything  worth keeping.  The days begin to slow.  Maybe you think  how little of the world,  especially in America,  has been said or heard  in firsthand conversation  about the years between  Richard  Nixon  and Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan.  Maybe you do something about that...

PREFRONTAL CORTEX UP HERE  Suppose: A Law is the highest form of abstract thought.  I  I I Laws.... Depend on  Object Identification I I I (depend on) Sense of Nuance   I I I (depend on) Sense of Phenomena   I I I (depend on) Root, Base Experience  SUPERIOR LOBES/CORTEX HERE  ****