Liar Liar

I wish I could I wish I could

never forgive never forgive

or forget or forget

living without you living without you

pain more pain pain more pain

in my memory in my memory

erase it erase it

easy soft easy soft

no bad dreams no bad dreams

live live

faraway faraway

you tell me you tell me

once once

is enough is enough

but once is impossible but once is impossible

because because

there is then there is then

there is now there is now

two times two times

that never add that never add 

up to up to 

once

Melanie Emmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

She sat in the diner in her wool pinken dress

her pantyhose tied round her neck

and a violet's short stem behind her

Nothing but bliss she believed in its kiss

and a new day born from the ashes

If looks could kill well she probably still 

believes in what the mirror says

and round round her neck the nylon stretched 

as she looked in the mirror

Bashing her parents her teachers her pets

who had all got so far ‘tween her knees

She was tired of silence but no one could hear

when she talked her mouth chocked her with glass

Broken so young no need to get old

for breaking takes longer for some

who just aren’t as ready

who’s hands aren’t as steady

when they try to pick up the gun

all cowards, we age in our blue jeans

She dressed herself up, and tied back her hair

with the longest elastic in air

and in her pinked woolen dress she stuck out her tongue

and hung it to fuck  

all the people who found her

She is still living there, with a part in her hair

and one of her shoes on the floor

if you walk up beside her, don’t bother don’t mind her

The mirror wasn’t shattered, it held her and grabbed her

like the hand of a tv show debonaire

Once walked a moment, once walked a girl

along a cold bitter street

but if you happen to find her, her body still warm

forever you’ll wrap in her arms

and the chill once it finds you will keep you so perfect so young and so rare

And the promise of death, that promise is kept

forgetting forgetting the swoon

and the pain of her lovers who spurned her who covered

their mistakes with their suits and their fumes

They now hang beside her for youth is no minder of

whether you’re black or you’re blue

Mohammed and the Moneycounters

it was a 

bonfire of the vanities

but in vain

the princes live still in their castles

counting the heads of their prisoners

deciding which ones they will trade

that day

it was rumoured that all the shades from hell had risen in smoke and fire

but it was only money that fuelled the flames

and the noxious fumes it sent forth

were shaped into tanks and bombs and guns

no soul slept in repose after that

there was blood money to be made

a type of money that cannot burn

but kills by fire nonetheless

and the souls cried out for peace

and prayed to god

but god could not hear them

for god has

nothing at all to do who

rules hell as well as who 

sets the rules of heaven

the prisoners sit in jails somewhere else is all

and the princes they worship are

clothed in

glistening

ash

How to Get Mildly High and Incredibly Constipated for the Small Fee of Setting Up a Science Lab

You know that weird thing when you're on the net looking for something and you find something completely different -- and weird? I just came across a site called Opiophile (people that love opioids) who share tips and suggestions on how to get high on on opiates. Well, getting high on opiates isn't all that hard, as that's what they do, get you high, as well as act as painkillers. But these people aren't even talking about anything so obvious as Hillbilly Heroin (oxycodone), which itself is leagues below the morphine injections you get in the hospital after surgery. These "opiophiles" are talking about getting high on, of all things IMODIUM, the antidiarrheal over the counter medication! Here's a description of Imodium  (generic name Loperamide) from Wikipedia: Loperamide is an opioid-receptor agonist and acts on the μ-opioid receptors in the myenteric plexus of the large intestine; by itself it does not affect the central nervous system. It works similarly to morphine, by decreasing the activity of the myenteric plexus, which in turn decreases the tone of the longitudinal and circular smooth muscles of the intestinal wall.[6][7] This increases the amount of time substances stay in the intestine, allowing for more water to be absorbed out of the fecal matter. Loperamide also decreases colonic mass movements and suppresses the gastrocolic reflex.[8]
     I  have a long history with Imodium -- not to get high, that's for sure -- I have used it as an antidiarrheal for Crohn's disease. It was once explained to me by a pharmacist that it is related to codeine but that the molecular structure is mirrored as well as missing a few components, so while it works on slowing down the gastro-intestinal tract like codeine, only a minuscule amount is able to pass through the blood brain barrier to effect the central nervous system, so you get the constipating effects of an opiate but without the CNS effects -- no high and can't poop! But I really hate the stuff;  I find it doesn't work for me at lower doses, and if I take enough for it to work at all it works too well and my intestinal spasms don't just slow down, they stop. Makes me feel like a pregnant hippo, or like I swallowed a giant barrel cactus.
     Some people who obviously can't get anything more than a tylenol from any doctor  anywhere forever (probably because they have a rather suspect history of doctor hopping and abusing prescription painkillers) have come up with a way to get what little bit of opiate is present in Imodium to pass through the blood brain barrier and effect a CNS high. Apparently they add pulverized Imodium tablets to a solution of Butyl Cyanoacrylate (BC)  and Polysorbate 80 (P80) in acidified water. BC is used to make those weird bandage-less bandaids--you know, the liquid bandages that you paint over a cut--and P80, a sugar alcohol found in all sorts of food products as an emulsifier. The last thing added is Insulin, a hormone that helps our cells absorb glucose from the blood.
  The end result of all this weird science is to first break down Imodium into small particles through the acidic water, and to allow the  nanoparticles of BC, P80 and Insulin to first deliver, then bind the opiate properties of Imodium to cells within the Central Nervous System. The preferred method of delivery is by IV injection.
     I really wonder exactly how long it took for someone to figure this all out and, well, the pertinent question is WHY? There must be easier ways to get stoned. And shooting yourself full of bandaid-glue is kind of creepy if you ask me. Where exactly would you get readily available insulin? Insulin can be farmed from mice, but most of the Insulin people use nowadays for diabetes is artificial, no harm done to any animals at any stage at all. Do they have shelves of mice they feed a lot of sugar too in order to increase insulin production? Wouldn't you need a warehouse for all this equipment? Or do you just do it at the kitchen table in a frying pan?
   Well, that's my weird find for the day. It just goes to show that if a person wants to get high and constipated for about two weeks straight and maybe have to go to the hospital for a high colonic enema, where there's a will there's a way!

Movie Review: August: Osage County (release date Jan 10/14)

I really wanted to like this film. The premise, the actors, the fact that it centers on a family of real grown ups (not 50 somethings playing 30 somethings with teenagers who are 20 somethings). I was looking forward to watching an American film in which the actors play their ages (it seems of late that when an American movie requires grandparents who actually look like grandparents and NOT the evil browed botox caricatures Hollywood passes off as grandparents they have to fly in British actors whose attempts at American accents sounds as if they have a flute up their nose) and WHAT ACTORS: Julia Roberts, Meryl Streep, Juliette Lewis, Ewan McGregor et al. From the promos it seemed the film would deal with real issues. Well, this film does have issues, all right. Buckets, wheelbarrows, truckloads of issues. There were so many issues I thought I had gotten lost on Erskine Caldwell's Tobacco Road, but without the realism -- this was the same white trash but living in a bigger house, and had they been living in a hovel this film would have been attacked as classist in the extreme. Incest (suggested), infidelity, addiction, alcoholism, racism, manipulation, bullying, greed, lying, stealing. It was so hard to find any redeeming quality in any of the characters that it was hard deciding who to hate or who to blame. The mom, Meryl Streep, might make a good scapegoat/punching bag for all the family's problems, but her ho of a sister (or sister in law, I forget and who cares) is no better, and neither are her kids. They go on and on and on and on about their junkie mom but have they ever really tried to help her? And moan about their poor, poor dad, the drunk, as if the fact that he doesn't need a prescription filled to get his mojo and no one in the family ever brings his scotch consumption up since he's such a great guy because he's never been to rehab makes him some kind of saint for sticking by his pill popping wife! One of the daughters wants to marry her cousin, which is creepy enough but when she finds out from her mom that he is her half brother (without the mom knowing she had the hots for him in the first place) she blames the mother for, for, for, WHAT EXACTLY? For never telling them their dear old dad was such a dog and was for years screwing their nice Aunt Mattie? The daughters all play "who's the bigger martyr" although they really don't seem to give a damn about anyone but themselves. Even when Julia Roberts has had enough at a family dinner, freaks out at her mom then flushes all her mom's pills down the toilet, exactly who is she doing this for? If her mother's pill addiction is as bad as they make out, wouldn't abruptly stopping the pills put her into intensive care? There really was no one in the film that was worth caring about, or rooting for, or even mourning. In terms of acting, well, it would be impossible to not over-act with such scenarios and such a script, and the actors in this film do not let us down in that regard. The mom's ability to talk non stop for 20 minute intervals without taking a breath while suffering from MOUTH CANCER(!!) and puffing a cigarette at the same time is admirable, and reminds me somewhat of King Lear's hefty dramatic monologues but with a lot of smoke. So if you want to see one of modern cinema's greatest actors (Streep) pull that off, I suppose it's worth the price of admission. And even though he was a lying philandering drunk, ultimately the dad really isn't so bad. He had the sense to off himself at the start of the film, which I was itching to do to myself half way through!

Three Words

I wanted to write a book

when I was younger

Bigger than The Entire Encyclopedia Britannica

More Important than Einstein's Theory of Relativity

as World Changing as The Gospels of Luke John Mark Matthew

and The Epistles of Paul

Now I just want to write one good word

followed by another

and another

Just three that go along together well

like

I Love You

or 

I Hate You

or 

Oh My God

something

original

but

familiar

like

Let's Fuck

(the 's being a second word, more powerful in its suggestion. 's could be Us or So What or even Salad. 's can mean more than one, or maybe more than one time, or s as in single or small serving or simple. at this point in my life i'd be happy to either create or experience an 's, full of meaning and apostrophic doubt as it is, but it has already been done)

I like to think that if someone came across my three words, perfectly chosen and perfect in order

they would

feel an epiphany

as though a cat walked over their brain

a new

understanding of the meaning

of the universe

and their place in 

it.

I had so many words planned

and so many planned words

but they all drifted away

like children who grow up and move to 

Montreal

or 

maybe Barcelona

and I hope there is a god

capitalized or not

who will feel sorry for me

and give me

my

three 

words

This is not my personal intellectual property, but it is my name!

Manifesto

It is time to

disassimilate

to say our final farewells

without having to

die

To find a new kind of freedom

to discover a new way of living

that is as important as

dying

To understand that what binds us to each other

is that which promotes slavery

is that which annihilates the soul

and maintains evil in the world

While I cannot see the future

I can hope

and I can dream

of a binding

without discrimination

without hate

without poverty

without high and

without low

A new relationship with each other

in which no one holds more power than any other

in which all colour is beautiful

in which no colour is beautiful

in which sex and gender is Absolute

freedom

A world where

no one is rich

just as

no one is poor

In which we police ourselves and not each other

especially not each other

for the policing of the world is what destroys the world

it is a policing in which the poor police the poor and the slave the slave and the worker the worker

to increase

and to profit that which first steals identity

and returns identity by naming that which it has stolen

making us owners who are owned

by thieves

by imaginary desire

by worthless worth

until we are nothing but items on a shelf

lined up like poultry

laying our young out to be picked by

farmers with no fields

landowners with no land

branded

with a warranty that lasts a lifetime

For too long have we ignored this

For too long have we believed

that only a life worth living is worth living

Perceive the worthlessness of this vision

how it has strangled us

how it has dulled us

how it has failed us

and prevented us from being able

to see that worth does not mean going up in value

Disassimilate

it will be hard

almost impossible

almost the end

almost more frightening than death

always more frightening than death

for death is freedom, and freedom is frightening

but we need not die to become free

if we break these ties

this noose

this suffocation

we no longer have to go "up" we can go

sideways

in circles

whatever we choose

The first step is to realize

that we can say

goodbye

whenever we want

Safe as Houses

There is no home for some of us

it changed its mind too often

so we 

paint our walls with the visions of philosophers

and fashion windows from the minds of artists

and pattern doors from the rags of fairytales

the pounding of fists cannot open it

nor can the loudest scream pierce its glass

it is remarkable how 

the deepest tissue of the brain

can create a house so final

that daddysmellslikeginandpussyscaringmummywhoissoscaredshehitsustoprotectusandissososososososorrysorrysorrysorrysorry

and nosupperforyoumissyiwillgiveyousomethingtocryaboutyoulittleshitfuckassholebastardbitchdon'tyoudareusethosewordstheyarebadlikeyoubadlikeyoubadlikeyoubadlikeyoubadlikeyouandiwillwashyourmouthoutwithsoapandiwishyouwereneverborndon'tcryyoulittlebaby

cannot break through its hard doors and though it takes forever when it is finally 

final

we can finally go

home