swaying minds

Reading a book based on politics
is an arduous use of time
to learn the same bullshit
you can get from five minutes
of television.
I tell you nothing of what you read
is any more real
than the fantasies of
one egotist.

isn't this how it started?

Worried that I might kill my dog.
Burning incense
and smoking tobacco-laced,
marijuana cigarettes.
I'm pondering nervously
about my own selfishness
to continue smoking
as this thought, I pen
to identify with a
human audience.
Now the bright irony
in the prose of this situation
is coming to my realization
and it is
in no
way
pleasant.

a psychologists field day

Last night I dreamt what I would define as a psychologists field day.

At first I realize I am in a wood cabin of sorts and it is shaking. Members of my family and unknown faces alike, work together to empty the space of all valuables. It is transforming into a restaurant space.

I walk outside there are soldiers flanking every direction. I walk back inside. My dad congratulates me on planning a fine victory and escape method and for bringing peace to his civilization. I have come under the assumption that our cabin is a giant prison cell being escorted by an army of 10 thousand strong, medieval soldiers and I have coordinated our daring method of survival but i cannot recall what it is despite the fact that it is a plan that is currently in execution.

Soon after I decide I have to go to the washroom. I go to the washroom. In my pants. I take off my underwear and say, "that is fucking gross, have you no dignity?", I look at the underwear, they are the pair of underwear I usually consider "lucky". They have never brought me luck.

I walk outside the cabin naked through a new exit donning ten foot hgh velvet curtains. I get lost in them exposed to immediate darkness, confusion, then immediate light, and blindness for a brief moment to reveal a dusty city street where I see Leone, my friend, selling books. One of the collection of books that stand out to me are seemingly original prints of Lord of the Rings. I notice that she is flipping through them, and answering wittily to everyone who asks if they are real with comments like "no I am just good at photoshop". These prints are real, or at least, I assume them to be real in the dream. I remember they have a distinct rough edge to the paper and all the font is itailcized and only consumes about a half of every page. The pages are not double side printed and I think this forces the books to be larger than they genuinely need to be.

Then I wake up to my alarm.

M&Ms

A tall, thin man walks quietly along the beach, feet washed over by the rolling waves. He picks a seashell up from the ground and lifts it up to the sky where the details of the shell are lost in a silhouette around the aura of sunlight. He has created an eclipse which he stares into intensely, wondering between thoughts of priorities and lovers if he will soon go blind. The details of the shell are all but lost without the direct influence of the sun, but they reveal themselves through tiny refractions of light bouncing off the sand and into his hand as he hands the shell to an apparation of a woman who is now blissfully accepting the seashell as if it were the greatest gift she ever received. She smiles at the thin man and holds the shell to her ear. He is intrigued by this mermaid on the beach, and trusting of her, but onlookers are in wonder as they see a thin man, alone on a beach, with a seashell floating before his eyes. They wonder if he is a magician.


The mermaid and the magician walk together under the setting sun and the onlookers retreat to their homes in awe, to tell the story of what they just saw. The mermaid invites him to the ocean, to meet the King of the Sea. The magician is afflicted by this invitation for as a child, he once drowned. He asks to hold the sea shell once more. It is larger now than it has ever been before. He smiles at the mermaid who seems to have disappeared back into the ocean, where she swims away gracefully laughing and coercing the magician to swim to her.

The magician looks at the seashell and watches the ocean. He notices the ocean is on a decline, like a snowy slope in Northern Canada that he once had performed his most magnificent of illusions on. A dog watches the magician curiously as he stumbles nervously toward the mermaid in the ocean, which the dog cannot see. The dog advances closer and begins barking. The magician is afraid of dogs and begins to run toward the mermaid until the depth of the water has matched his height and he hops on the seashell, now the size of a small dingy.

Like a vessel of fear and intent, completely sentient, it carries him off to the mermaid where they meet in mid sea and kiss until the weight of their consummation forces them to the sea bed. The magician is breathing and thinks, "This is my greatest illusion yet," and the mermaid releases herself from their liplock. Suddenly he loses his breath and panicks.

The air from his lungs escape him and his fright immobilizes him. He can only see the light from the sun fading on the ocean ceiling and soon he is sinking into a tight, body sized cave. The mermaid, lands on his body and kisses him, floating back up toward the shore. He cannot chase her and with his last breaths and remaining sources of light information he can see the seashell sink gently over him as it covers the only exit to the cave.

Now the magician can breath, but he is afraid to break this containment space. He ponders for hours about whether or not he wants to be reintroduced into the seemingly deadly sea. Soon after he becomes famished, in a way he's never felt and he laughs uncontrollably, almost insanely, as he kicks off the seashell cover and it floats up back towards the sky, once again eclipsing the light. The seashell cuts in an out of the path of light like a strobe casting sporadic shadows and he sees, in slow motion, that he has grown a pair of fins.

Maybe I'm an ignorant Canadian

OKay!


WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE...



Obama is an elected official right? Leader of the country.
Didn't he get like 67 or 77 or some percentage?
The percentage doesn't matter (some of you may say it does)
but the matter of the fact is that the MAJORITY of people believe that Obama can lead the United States and it's citizens to a more 'prosperous' tomorrow.
Even if you disagree with that, it doesn't matter to me.
See my problem is these people, crying, CRYING on CNN
CRYING FOR FUCKS sake.
WHY?

because Obama wants to address the schools, he wants to talk to the kids, he wants them to understand politics, understand the country and grow up working hard staying in school eating vegetables and studying to become scientists of tomorrow.

BUT WAIT
there's more.
THE HATERS
the racists.
YES
RACISTS
the fear-mongers.
YES
YOU
ARE AFRAID of "socialism"
when all he wants to do, is let your kid know that life, BELIEVE IT OR NOT, is in fact hard.

instead you don't want your children to grow up understanding the context of their future?
you don't want them to see an intelligent leader, and you don't want them to what?
to learn?
Obama asking for kids opinions is wrong because children shouldn't be involved in politics?
I SAY NAY NAY!
this is essentially democracy at it's finest.
after all, you elected him to make the big decisions. You elected him based on the probability that he has YOUR best interest in mind. He loves the country, he loves your kids.
I believe he does.

He doesn't want to turn your children into socialist dogs. He's not starting a youth-army service. He's not asking you to fly planes across the ocean and bomb other countries.
He's showing compassion and giving a voice to the citizens who need it most. The children who will grow up paying for YOUR mistakes. So yeah, they need a little encouragement.
Really, it may be better if Obama was an evil Nazi, set on hypnotizing your children to emancipate themselves from the parents and devote themselves to the country. Watch those little girls of his grow up and later tell me you don't wish your kids were as startlingly intelligent and mature as them. If Obama hypnotized your kids, the whole country would be better off, because you suck at parenting.

Don't forget though, that your kids are the foundation of the country's future and if you raise them to turn a blind eye to a black man behind a podium,
you are teaching them to be bigots.

which is far worse than anything Obama will say on wednesday.

Grow up America, you're fucking it up for the rest of us.

Quadrant 1: Idolize Quadrant 2: Idolize Quadrant 3: Idolize Quadrant 4: Idolize

Are there bears in Marilyn Monroe's hair?
As seen in Andy Warhol sheets.
I hide in my room and peek at the world
Through a colourful box on my desk.
From that place on the bed
against Marilyn Monroe's head
I can create and see
all of our crazy antics,
and I ponder quite slowly
about what Warhol would make
of all our 'mistakes'
and obvious foresight.
Maybe he was as ignorant as we are,
maybe he was the start?
Monroe was the image of purity being slain
and Warhol told us off with colourful stains.
He humbled the artist in playing completely dumb
and we idolize him for it.
We idolized Marilyn for it.
We idolize the internet for it.

ctrl + f "mary-land"

ctrl + f "mary-land"

things i might possibly 'miss' about mary-land
she is calm and quiet, a 'shock' from bustling busy new york city, but
she is no less sporadic
she had a lot of trees.
she had a community of people who liked tv.
she is full of conversations.
she can possibly have radioactive water.
she is likely a candidate for places to 'settle down'
she listened to a lot of diverse music, none of which i disliked
she has negative space, and parallel lines within her composition
she is friendly to animals and likes to preserve wildlife
she feels slightly incomplete in memory
she could possibly be unreliable but
she is totally worth the risk
she is a highly irrational concept to pursue
she is sparsely decorated with 'unneccessities'
she is hard to reach but easy to find

the other day, I brushed arms with mary-land
and today I don't know where she is