Peeking through cracks in the bunker
Hey BM fans. Pluralizing the word fan is an exaggeration, or literary slight of hand, to make it sound as though I am more popular than I really am. Well, it's that time of the month when I feel an obligation to blog, so here I am blogging.
I wish I could live without ever watching the news again. Ted Kazinski had the right idea when he built a cabin in the woods of Montana and lived off seventeen cents a day, cutting himself off from the 11 o'clock news. Off course he had the wrong idea when he mailed bombs. I guess it's one of those "right church, wrong pew" kinda' deals. Either way, if you consciously seperate yourself from the media and the news, all that shit simply doesn't exist. Of course I tune in every so often to catch my daily glimpse of the train wreck. But through it all, two images constantly creep into my mind that temporarily obstruct the wreckage.
The first is a situation that I stumbled upon and was merely a passerby. Last winter I was walking home from Giant Eagle on Centre Ave in Oakland as I approached a bus stop. Sitting and chatting were two old ladies, very stereotypical in voice and appearance. Strolling by I didn't catch a single word either spoke, but the conversation was lively and bounced back and forth. Only a few steps before leaving earshot the conversation met a natural brief pause before the only dialogue I heard clearly, "My name is Synthia, what's yours?"
The second is Sean Penn. As a tribute to Mr Penn, I suggest that Milton Bradley create an action figure in his likeness. Action figure Penn will come with various accessories including a bendable refugee that can be contorted to fit snuggly on action figure Penn's back, a bag of food rations with action rice tossing right arm, and most importantly a personal cameraman to capture all of Penn's heroic rescue attempts. Soon to be added to the collection will be action figure Bono, complete with the trash can of political irrelevance. No, those sunglasses are not an accessory; they are permenantly part of his face. Sold seperately is the starving Somolian child who attaches to action figure Bono's teet.
BM out
I wish I could live without ever watching the news again. Ted Kazinski had the right idea when he built a cabin in the woods of Montana and lived off seventeen cents a day, cutting himself off from the 11 o'clock news. Off course he had the wrong idea when he mailed bombs. I guess it's one of those "right church, wrong pew" kinda' deals. Either way, if you consciously seperate yourself from the media and the news, all that shit simply doesn't exist. Of course I tune in every so often to catch my daily glimpse of the train wreck. But through it all, two images constantly creep into my mind that temporarily obstruct the wreckage.
The first is a situation that I stumbled upon and was merely a passerby. Last winter I was walking home from Giant Eagle on Centre Ave in Oakland as I approached a bus stop. Sitting and chatting were two old ladies, very stereotypical in voice and appearance. Strolling by I didn't catch a single word either spoke, but the conversation was lively and bounced back and forth. Only a few steps before leaving earshot the conversation met a natural brief pause before the only dialogue I heard clearly, "My name is Synthia, what's yours?"
The second is Sean Penn. As a tribute to Mr Penn, I suggest that Milton Bradley create an action figure in his likeness. Action figure Penn will come with various accessories including a bendable refugee that can be contorted to fit snuggly on action figure Penn's back, a bag of food rations with action rice tossing right arm, and most importantly a personal cameraman to capture all of Penn's heroic rescue attempts. Soon to be added to the collection will be action figure Bono, complete with the trash can of political irrelevance. No, those sunglasses are not an accessory; they are permenantly part of his face. Sold seperately is the starving Somolian child who attaches to action figure Bono's teet.
BM out
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