———

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rJtIKb4tLU&feature=related

———

It’s more difficult now. I remember when people didn’t take themselves so seriously. It’s funny because they have less reason to now. Our days now are like broken glass on your floor, walking around barefoot. Fuck all this sycophancy! Let’s just get into the writing. Let’s bugger off somewhere and do some buggering together. I need to contrive a pep talk of sorts to get myself to pick up a pen, to give a new woman a call, to quit acting like an old man. My knees ache and the music sounds bombastic – but I’m still marveled by it all. Happy birthday to all who have grown a day today. It’s all we can ask.

 

Cheers,

Jack

 

P.S. I should have something up (finally) in the Media Section in the next couple of days. The first sprout of the experiment.

 

Two (Dogma)

 

Don’t bury your dead

Let them live a little

——–
Never love anybody

Love one and work at it

 

Madness is good

Madness is liberating; an internal revolution

 

If you write, write

If you sick [sic]

 

If you’re clever, then forget about it

If you’re numb, then find a vein

 

Don’t bury your dead

Let them live finally

 

Don’t put stock in repetition

It’s easy, pretty and the wormhole of history

 

Shave,

The hair and blood in the sink

 

The one time she came into the room

She found him staring into his palm

like a gypsy

 

Someone who sees

 

Sway like a hallucination

Or just sway, unknown, doped up

 

The reign is an institution

I just want your kind of precipitation above me

 

Don’t forget how hard it used to be

Make it easier on yourself

 

Thank the supporting ones

Make a family from the cast

And never bury your dead

Let them live because they tried