"Man oh man, 'Dr. Menlo.' Now there's an alternative blog. Kindness to animals, Seattle anarchists, nudism galore, SubGenius, anti-Bush black propaganda, jeez louise, Doc, that thing sure is happenin'." --Bruce Sterling, Schism Matrix
by kirsten anderson Kirsten invented and runs the best art galleries in Seattle: the Roq la Rue and BLVD Gallery. abuddhas memes by tony tross Tony chases Eris and his own personal Buddha-kin from the icy outer reaches of the Yukon.
"Ye fucking gods!! Are you nuts!? Those Jesuit bastards will eat you alive!" --Hunter S. Thompson, to me, circa '93
Hey folks, this is pretty important to me, please act quickly before Baby Bush exploits our wildlife:
Sen. Frank Murkowski had a column in last Sunday's Outlook Section of The Washington Post, calling for opening up this glorious area to oil exploration. Bush says this is going to be one of his priorities. Even though Clinton is president for only a few more weeks, he can still designate the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge to be a National Monument which would forever protect that pristine wilderness from oil drilling and other commercial development.
Bush has already stated that he will turn the Refuge over to big oil. Clinton is on his way out and is sympathetic to this cause and has already protected more land since Teddy Roosevelt was president. All he needs is a push from the public.
Call the White House hotline at (202)456-1111 (press "0" when prompted) from 8:30-5:00 EST and tell the comments-line operator that you want President Clinton to declare the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge to be a National Monument as the last great environmental act of his presidency. This one action may result in the protection of thousands of animals and plantlife.
You may also send the president an email at: firstname.lastname@example.org. or fax: 202-456-2461 Your message or phone call can simply say: President Clinton, I am asking you to designate the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge to be a National Monument as the last environmental act of your presidency. Please culminate your time as president with this one act that will save thosands of lives.
Please do what you can!
~envirogirl (this may be one of the most important issues of the century. this land is one of, if not the only last pristine wildlife areas. it has not been touched by humans yet, so why do we feel like we have the right to fuck it up now?)
A FEW YEARS BACK, yours truly spent about 2 years (during the day) earning a paycheck as a bicycle messenger in Washington, D.C. One day I was riding my bike along and got doored (courier parlance for riding on the right side of the road where you're supposed to and having some nincompoop who's just parked or whathaveyou open their driver-side door on you without looking in their rearview mirror first--hence: 'doored').
Well, my way cool purple Rockhopper (later stolen) went on ahead of me and I hit the ground--to my right I could just make out the wheels of a taxicab gunning straight for my head; I thought that was it--my skull was going to be broken open like a pungent watermelon. Luckily, the taxi driver swerved just in time and I got up. The driver of the car that doored me came up and sed, "I'm really sorry . . . can I like . . . buy you a Coke or something?"
LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING: I don't know anything, and neither does anyone else. Anybody with half a brain has only to raise their eyes to the skies, the moon, the infinite beyond, to feel lucky that at least he or she has enough mind pool in order to pour milk . . . tho I hate milk--BLEH!!
So anyway this is why I don't write much . . . because I feel so stupid all the time, because it takes all my energy just to hold my own against the neverending tide of conformist PUKE!!! BUYBUYBUY or you are NOTHINGNOTHINGNOTHING SCREAMS ALL OF AMERICA EVERYWHERE EVERYDAY AND EVERY WAKING MOMENT.
Thank god (you know what I mean, I mean your Holy only) for History--for lovely saints out there who once walked and dedicated their life to that certain beating within their chest which they would not let die.
I'm talking of course about Kerouac and Burras and the buk and Hunter S. and Kundera and PKDick and Jk Rawling and Ferlinghetti and T. Robbins and so many more, I cannot name. Well, there was Vonnegut and can't forget Orwell andandand . . . but you know the score, I don't need to spell it out for you. What did Burras say, "Cuz we're the Source."--well, they were a magical explosion, all right, but something came before. They carried on . . . magnificently, but they weren't the first to stand up for brains and heart and magnificent human originality . . .
The year Ginsberg and Burras dies the Wall St. Journal cries: [pp] "These 2 overrated child-molestin' crayon-wielding, drug-abusing sons of bitches, good riddance!"
Well I say this to the Wall St. Journal . . . er, just been interrupted by a . . . oh, never mind.
What was I saying? Pass me the ice cream.
Just saw the movie "The Source" which is nice, it reminds me that poets once walked the earth. It comforts me to know that the Beats were reviled by the "establishment" when they came out just like those today who dare stand up to anti-democratic institutions like the World Trade Organization--who are uniformly castrati & cliterectomi'd-attempted by the skulking hulking corpo-American-press. Wm. Buckley, that smug sonofabitch who threatened Noam Chomsky--get me in a room with him and his son and I'll get SINCERELY NONBUDDHIST ON THEIR ASS . . . tho I aspire to the inner core, om mani padmi . . .
(Sure I wander, I follow my brain accurately/in fractals it goes--and so would yours if it worked well. Quark Power.)
So anyway . . . it's like this: in the movie they ask Ginsberg in the 70's about the 50's and he says "It's all the same, it's all eternity, man"--[pp]--and FUCK YEA IT IS!!! . . . So why don't we plan the Revolution Slow--The Baby Boom II, because YOUTH KNOWS THE SCORE.
And dabble in the amore--tha's where the life is, the precious baby core. Without human affection, a newborn dies--that little factoid should mean more to everyone than "BUT WHAT ABOUT THE STOCKHOLDERS!?!". Almost everybody who works in advertising today is nothing but an Evil Poet. Tibor Kalman and Dr. Suess notwithstanding, and no longer around us, too--may they not rest in peace but carry on and sustain us forever.
To keep your head today, in the year 2000, in the coming millennium, where the corporate version of the Vast Dehumanizing Machine works better than it ever has in the history of all mankind--is in and of itself, a righteous task. Here are some basic tips:
1) Don't watch tv. One classic book by Bukowski or Dosteyevsky will give you more than ten years of American tv all put together. (with several major exceptions like the "Simpsons" and Bill Nye & Sister Wendy . . . )
2) Follow your Bliss. See Campbell, a wonderful teacher if ever there was one.
3) Know that you can never know enough.
4) Question everything, including penniless me.
5) Remember the Buddhist factoid number one: all life is pain, & the truth path is an ascension away from this.
etcetera, etcetera . . .
But then again, I don't know anything.
--But I sure as hell know more than the Wall St. Fucking Times. About life, that is--which is all I or anyone ever has--a short lease on the senses.
You know what I'm trying to say? Sure you do--you know the score. Now carry it on, now spread it around, now smile and dare to stay high.
. . . because the humanist revolution will continue . . .
For a limited time only: the George Dubya Dance . . . normally this type of thing wouldn't be of much interest to me, but in this case this is an unauthorized mirror of a site which was taken down--due to pressure, no doubt? So take this George, and as Hunter S. recently sed: [pp] "May the entire Bush Family be burned in poison oil."
Arguably Seattle's most popular blogger Zannah recently made no mention whatsoever of the WTO Anniversary protests . . . categories on her blog include "Recently Acquired Items:", "Stuf I Need:", "CDs I Need To Buy:" and "Spending (Way Too Much) Money Here:" . . . coincidence?