ghost, blue, donner, levi are known aliases of glad all talking to each other, hoping somebody wanders in
quinn (saying "crapspeak", which glad says to himself) and gasket (what a coincidence, just romping through minutes after this incoherency is posted) appear, losing count of the nonpeople in here
mighty few actual people in here
mighty lame exercise going on
if you're not glad and you're in this thread, get out, the call is coming from inside the house
You're the only person that has come here to criticize this post. We were doing fine on our own. What's your beef? You can think what you want. But why spread negative thoughts here?
I asked spam to drop in and spread some negativity because the positivity was getting out of hand. And it said get out if you're not me, so beat it and leave me alone with myself.
And blue guy. What's this I hear about how articleman ran you off? If he ran you off, how come you came back? You better be careful.
Articleman didn't run me off, it was another. How weird to have someone follow me to threads and "out" me. Though articleman has a new idea that no one should "promote" their own work. I was going to point out the huge support of your citjour project by our tribe, but, he's a lawyer so I thought maybe he would figure it out.
I find a certain *squareness* in the 'nauts as a tribe.
We're happy over here. Had a good time amongst our crowd. A couple of new faces. Very pleasant. Someone thinks the quinn esq
kid is you. He's from Canada. Man, he doesn't know what he's in for on that.
I can't get over how square some of these people are. Right now, I'm trying to imagine a topic that would really make a difference in their lives. You know what I didn't figure about Obama? How really boring he and his message are.
I would say "go to Hell" -
Better yet, re-check the spell.
dude ! Why so mad. It's kinda calm and funny over here. I liked your poem.
;)
there you go... how about this :)
I hardly know how I did that. Can't think of a name for you. Path.
No. Whatever. I like your pic. Flowing, really. Looks good in the pic-form.
Winding Road.
most of the parts are filled at this moment, gasket, but your rep had a lot of cred. Who's your agent?
I am.
Gasket wants to be handin' out pamphlets. Constitutions &such. Regular English newsboy, he is. Seems there's few buyers lately.
But he'll shout for cash. Show us yer money. (I'm in for 30%.)
Well, Billy. I came here as a 'naut and was cured. I'm in a wait- and see -mode and hoping for the best. I still like him and think he's going to do well. But who knows? It's one thing to support Obama, and quite another to row like you're a 'naut slave.
Yes, he's the stiff guy in the corner drinking ginger ale that can't quite figure out the music.
Think Chauncey in "Being There" except with more self-awareness and media skills.
So you're sayin' he's somewhere between Fast Eddie and Chauncey? Why do I feel like we're not narrowing it down much here?
We are large, we contain motley dudes.
3 pts fer the pun'll getcha 3 pints fer anon.
thass me.
But Chancey had a garden
Totally Chauncey. Jerzy Kosinski.
Yeah, maybe. But you come across as a sanctimonious cunt, so who give a shit what you think?
Billy Glad: Why don't you go fart in a jar and sniff it? I think that would make you exceedingly happy.
BillY Glad, you are a complete dickhead. Did I mention that already? You lost because you didn't have the GUTS to fight. You lost because you think you can HINT at what you believe, and that what you believe in is clearly right. But the fact is, what you truly believe is total CRAP. You lost because the image of what you think you are overrides reality. But only for you. The rest of us never believed it in the first place. I jusr traveled 1500 miles to celebrate the birthday of a friend. That's what life is all about. Do you get it, Billy Glad?
Maybe if you weren't so obnoxious you could find a friend closer than 1500 miles.
Hint: did your parents have to tie a steak around your neck to get the dogs to even play with you?
NO PERSONAL ATTACKS. Don't you get it chimp !
New policy. Be nice. *hug* LOL
I'm considering asking TPM to take away your avatar as offensive, and also because we don't know who you are, or were and there have been accusations of some relationship, or meeting, or conspiracy with KNOWN offenders of various things we will not stand for in America.
So I ask you now:
HAVE YOU NOW OR EVER BEEN________________(space here for fill -ins__________________(Crap-speak) __________________ !
And if you don't believe me, I've retained ArticleObamaMan to sue you.
Dig it, you fragment, you toad, you __________space for fill ins_________________
BigBadJoe 1984
Spam. Come on. At least keep the alter-identities straight. You've got them all mixed up.
That was a neat trick DONNERPASS, pretending to "leave" for a day.
a cunning stunt.
you can't beat the white and green colors wafting down the thread.
Why? You thinkin?
I'm a vile thing, quinn. I don't want to hurt your feelings. So, where's the trail?
hard to sneak up on us Quinnie...we got all these trails covered.
But the boys in the bunk house are interested in what kind of tracker you might be.
We are the last of the Hyperboreans. The snow holds no trails, ahead or behind.
The coyotes and I roam these canyons and squares,
our long, ragged coats sweep the streets
as we wander.
We are the Cherokee Curse
upon the American Mall,
pursuing the Trail with magic
and soft padded paw.
The coyotes stop to breathe on a store window,
warm tongues on cold glass
write the revolutionary word:
Communion.
As a wider man once said.
Wow, oh bald head with exposed hard and soft palates. I want what you're smokin' !
We are stakes through the eye of fashion,
and our bride is squalor.
I don't know. It's probably something that eats right through your soft tissue.
I got about 20 pounds of soft tissue I wouldn't mind it eatin through.
ok quinny
you be on some trail we ain't seeing...yet
back on this later...
Trapper Quinn,
We welcome you to the campfire. But we don't speak no frenchie, 'cept the few words of the trade language. Is it true that you don't sing or fiddle american? We'd like that, if we know the words, and
even if we cain't knowem. Could you give us a tune now, and parlay the american fer us?
I once knew a girl. We met every morning in a little cafe. A greasy one. Eggs and sausage, toast and coffee every morning. The authorities tried to close it down on us. She stopped 'em. Damned if they would've listened to me. She used to talk to Americans. But they were kinda afraid, what with her red hair and all. So.
To turn away a woman like that? Well, after that, I figured they'd never listen to a fool such as me. Nothin to do but wait for em to work it out. Work the poison out. It didn't get there by itself.
quinn, I find this hard to say, but speaking as a head with a head for chaos, i don't have a clue what this is about. Is it the girl? Stumped by chaos on my own chaotic blog.
The song or the story?
Ok. The story. Maybe Spam & Co. will figure out I'm not you. (Or you. Or you.) They seem to have a hard time with the idea that one man might have more than one story. Since their lives seem to lack some juice, I'll be literal here. I sometimes have to be, though it's a dreadful comedown from the people we need to be. But if Spam and Barefooted come back this way and are still having a hard time figuring it out, well... that's their loss. I'm tired. I can spare one story. Life has many, done properly.
I spent most of 1996-2002 in London. Big times, much to do politically, etc. Blair was coming. And I'd promised to come back, just to help reverse the works of Maggie. So I did.
I lived near the Heath. Hampstead Heath. There was a little cafe, down at the foot of Parliament Hill and South End Road. Called Polly's. Here. Look. Come on in.
It was a greasy spoon. Perfect for me. So I'd fall down the hill every morning for coffee etc. Turned out it was also the haunt of Annie Lennox. Same Mendes. Minghella. Made for interesting chats. Mendes was doing American Beauty.
Thus, Annie's "the girl." When in the Eurythmics, her sexuality scared the shit out of people. The red short hair and all. When the Council tried to close Polly's down for some stupid licensing thing, Annie organized the response. We won.
The English struggle with America, and what it means. The song was her video on the end of a love affair. With America. the love's still there, but the horror got pretty thick for a while.
I'm not a riddler. Myth, I get.
But fuckitalltohell. My blood's from America. Fucking Mayflower. Fuller's. My family's back in America now. I'm not, as of yet. Decisions to make. But I feel it. And if you can't see the look in Annie's face, ricking herself in pain, in the back of that cab, and get what this has all meant to people... well. I kinda run out of words. And now.... when there's the slightest sniff of hope... to see the morons, as one-dimensional as ever, still not having figured out that THAT'S why the ship got captained by a fool, to not get that the cubic souls they've created are the very problem, and now, all of them clustering in to close hope off.... It kills me.
Do not mistake me. I think Obama carries a great deal in this time. So much so that in fact I'm sure he will fail and sink under the waves from time to time. We'll see if he also rises. Which is precisely why the dull would do well to understand myth.
There. I'm unlikely to be this literal again. Christ, I hope I don't have to be.
Good ol' Camden, if I'd only known which corner to hunker into I'd have been famous, or brushed with fame. Instead I chose Hackney, and what did they give me? A Cab. And a good pint with chips. Now I have a Camden exile here, no better for the travel - he's turned into a werewolf. Probably Polly's fault as well.
Hackney, Des? Used to hang at London Fields. Albion Drive. Colombia Market. Many friends there. Election Night, in fact. Ahhhh, that was glorious. "Like A Rolling Stone" snarling out windows at 2 am when Maggie's crew went down. How does it feeeeeel? Had to move to the Heath, Hackney got no tube. Had everything else though.
Funny, I have a brilliant bootleg of Like A Rolling Stone from Albert Hall that I bought in Camden Market only to discover later that the nice stark stereo sound vanishes about 18 seconds later into a mush mono mess. But the beginning is beautiful.
And THAT wins the prize as "Best Description Of Tony Blair."
I'm bein' cruel. He did a lot. For a lot longer than 18 seconds.
But at some point... nothin' but static in that boy's head.
He's the political equivalent of the Thompson Twins - there's only so much of that you can take before you come out looking like a... poodle?
who are the Thompson twins?
T-Twins. Sad story from youngr days. Boy meets girl. Find twinship. Stare into others eyes. Twins meet synthesizer. They connect. Hold me now, they sing. Synthesizer does. Twins assimilated. Much lunch money is saved, but song remains the same. Tragedy often repeated amongst the Eurotrash peoples.
was it a Korg or at least a Roland?
King Roland, not Rothgar.
There was a young girl named Annie
Who exposed a bit much of her fanny
(While the Yanks say "her crotch",
It was only a splotch,
But the fame that it brought was uncanny).
Wasn't she a Brit an needing therapy?
No...bad delivery there damn it.
Try something like "Britten Needs" and make a face also, as if you have *noticed* the missing undergarments.
Now I'm thinking of Britney and her knees and that really horrid snatch shot. Water, I need water....
Beware, lest you stare too long into the abyss....
And apologies to all others reading. Twas "spam" that got up my nose. People who worry about multiple avatars, and then speak in the name of Christ.... I honestly don't know what to say about idiots like that. Ack. I need Mars Attacks.
quinn, just saw this and I'll give it a fine read in the morning. All stories are welcome here. Thanks for visiting the tribe. See you in the morning.
OK. Barefoot is not the enemy, so you'll need to re-read the poems, and apologize. That's important.
The story:The content often summerged in the style, though I must say, that is my style too, so extra points for being obtuse. Style matters, content less so.
Seems you lived in England from 1996-2002 and worked for Tony Blair, angry that your previous girlfriend "Maggie" has undone the Brits. Maggie wasn't into the old/young thing (at least with you) so you went looking for a new girlfriend with a greasy spoon (did you have it, or did she). This took place at a lively little cafe where you met Desidero. Also at this lover's nestle were various celebrities that no one remembers. You feel in love with the one who sells her Cds on CD Baby. Her video broke your heart, and that's when you started channelling Piaf, because, as much as you like older women, she was sleeping with the headless horseman in the states. There were many talks about the meaning of life. Then you had some crisis about who you really are. I thought you were from Canada, now you're a returning Brit, but you came on the Mayflower, but not with the 'nauts. You have angst.
Desi met you at the cafe. You and he reflect on apartments. You offer yours, but the chimp wants a better pad.
You are sometimes angry. Amazing stuff. Do I believe it? Oddly, I do.
It's almost like you were there. Or with the NSA.
Except for the Des part. If memory serves (when does memory ever 'serve,' BTW?) 'hoo, Des was DJ'ing, perma-high, XXXtatic, bringing Madchester to the masses. One night, BPM's rose beyond human limits, 78 young people exploded, Des forced to flee.
Bewarned.
apologize yet to barefoot?
If he doesn't show respect to the other actors, we can't use him.
yah. done below.
where do i get to go to bitch about everyone? prima donna's. stepped on lines. director who doesn't recognize talent. ass fat in these pants. surely to god, there's a place.
There is certainly a place for the more experienced actors. Don't you have your own thread somewhere. Some of my actors are blacklisted in the other theaters. Your theater would be best for your own beefs. We tend to keep the blacklisted actors in a safe place. Good roles over there. We'll give a look now and then. We're going on tour anyway with no return engagements here. Good to meet you,
I think they're saying off-Broadway - I'd say shag it and head for Ibiza or Mallorca, this Shakespeare society stuff is getting on my nerves. Now where's my water bottle?
Could have been worse - a closet with a rope around my neck? Exiled to Devon listening to my Siouxsie disks get scratchier and scratchier? Stuck in Scotland spotting trains?
the song next time
Yah.
Fear not, I'm not gonna talk to you.
Ah...but it's Cypher who should fear you, codeman. You see everything. I hate you computer guys. So smug just because you can write the code the rest of us need for air.....
Hey, someone's gotta do the dirty work...
what about that "clean code" thing you guys are always bitchin' about?
Clean code and dirty work are not mutually exclusive. When all you do is shifting bits and bytes around, strange things can happen.
you're telling me...my dirty code needs some real debugging ...that's code talk, right?
Dirty code may be beyond redemption and no amount of debugging, baling wire and duct tape may save it. But even clean code tends to need debugging. It's just that clean code is a lot easier to work with than dirty code.
Until it's smut code it's not worth my undies drawer. Keep crackin'. Keep hackin'.
schmutzig,, (umlaut?) code
nicht gut
I'm not talking. I'm communicating to those wires you have connected to your head. I'm sending you secret messages only you will be able to "decypher."
girl, you ain't bad lookin', even if you ain't blue. Me wires be hot.
They're not. They'd be red if they were really hot.
you're a code guy. could you do the chimp thing and make them glow on and off?
You need a graphics dude (or dudette) for that. I'm not so good when it comes to visual art.
This is the chimp thing when hot. Hard to get back in the bottle. I am become death, destroyer of worlds. Dig my orangeness.
Atoms at 700 k coming towards me and I count them.
Ohm....Ohm...Ohmm
Aren't you a pic? A blue guy, but still a pic, no?
drift thing, how's that hobo stuff working for you.
well, here's the deal...what constitutes a pic or a person is highly debated among the different tribes.
some say that warpaint is a mythic transformation, transformative, as it were, and often through a plant my tribe collects then heats and becomes a sacred smoke we call "dormshaman."
In that case, I could definitely go for a transformation right about now.
we sell our smoke you know.
you being a drifter and all that, haven't you seen anyone from our tribe, decked out in shamanic garments, chanting, and taking VISA for beads, beer or tabacci ?
Cypher, almost time to bunk down. But you done good boy. Look at the lyricism of the colors flowing down the thread like a sweet water cascade ! If they only understood that our people just like the mythic message of the colors, dagnabbit.
Blue Dude finally posts!
I ran out to feel the pulse of the White Oak on my doorstep to see if all's well. Nothing's wrong, and yet, here's the Blue Dude posting.
C'mon, sweet thang, let us talk to you.
Tell us, who're you really looking to talk to?
crick, you girl of C's heart. The boys in the bunk house have told me that I'm getting hurt all the time by opening up my deepest feelings **hug**
what should I do?
Why're you opening up your deepest feelings on cyberspace? Find a horse to talk to. That's what I do. Got a Centaur living next door. Give him his carrots every evening and he listens to me before his two legs shows up and takes him home. You do the same, find a horse.
On another thread I saw people yelling atchya. Them's people known to have good hearts and yet they were yellin' atchya. Why? What did you do?
He's blue. That's enough for some people.
Come to think of it, you're pretty blue (pretty in blue?) too... and so am I. But he's still the bluest.
i'm blue, true,but seriously wired with the old guage. Me wires are frayed, C++ (?) man, and i'm too deep in the forest, down by the bridge and too near that spot down the hill from the church with the river on the right (or was that left00 gotta ask donner) and too close to where the traitor's messenger was caught with the plans of the USA to be saved. I hate red-coats.
but ever true to my friends
Major John André. Fascinating character from what little I read about him.
King Solomon or Henry?
On second thought, I'll go with Henry. Even though he was a wife killer and evil man.
So. You got interested in Major Andre. Honestly I don't know much about him except his excellent speech at the hanging. I'm intrigued by Arnold. What makes a fellow turn traitor? He was a hero, after all. What's a little politics in an army. Happens all the time. Patton didn't go fight for the Germans cause Ike dissed him.
Andre. Poor soul. They wouldn't even shoot him --hanged him.
Redcoat spy in Tarrytown NY. Who would have imagined ?
There's a poem in here somewhere contrasting Solomon and Henry. But I'm out of material.
Codeman, were you around for the treasures on the right? Especially the Marc Chagall stained glass windows in the church?
Okay, folks, dig deep for our poetry muse,
his lips are parched, his spirit's flagged,
a penny or tuppence to revive his spirit
and his fine eye for a catchy rhyme.
Step lively, lass! Mead! All around!
you're a night person, right?
Trying to lighten up...
crickala, (Blue guy speaks yiddish)
You say get me a horse ! Damn if that's not what the old guy keeps telling me. But crick, I tried the horse thing and that's how I became a lopped
thing, with only wires to my former form.
As for people yelling and whining and passing attitudes --you mean that kind of thing.
Well, my little crushed piece of pineapple, you see that some pics allow other pics great license and won't cut the blue guy a break....group **grp hug**
Also, me madonna, in my tribe we honor humor the most, and have a fucking sense of humor. In fact, the game among our tribe is sneaking up on one another all the time, and planning for it, and writing poems about it, and riddles, any such thing....that's the trail of tears, crick,.,we are going it for the other shamans..
But crikie, that's like arguing which mirage is the miragiest. We're all ephemeral.
I was out wandering blogspace and then returned and was trying to reply to the Blue Dude and could not find this thread on the list. I thought it had gone over the top and to sleep. I was looking in the wrong place.
Look at the colors of thread ! I'm the only loser, the old black and white guy. This, cricket, is a conversation of high moment. You got the color thing right at the get-go. There's something fine always in elegance. Don't feel in the middle of anything. Except beauty. Everywhere on this page.
Thanks, oldtimer.
Yes, it is a pretty thread.
crickcrick,
I cant get over the blue highlighted by the bright yellow and softened by the earthy browns. Color beats content, it is meaning.
yes, a talent. Does she have an agent? Let's get in a call to her people. Not sure on the various names, though:
cricket, crickie, crickala, crickcrik, and SHE calls herself AAACK.
We'll have to deal with that later.
ztop nakemg fum of ny mani, Berj Liaj!!
You do foreign roles also. Really, who is your agent? Ms. Cricket.
Mo omi you kmow. Qirtaemhy mot zoni juji manij Jinintij. Ajmyway, E lavi mo teni tojay to qlat wetl fhuti phayemg poziurz wetl berjz om tlier liajjz.
Byi.
Pljukng Bwjlynt.
OK quinnie, me mounty boy
let's see if me can smoke up a verse--
I'm so tired
I'm just not wired
THAT ain't no good. Wait up.
Me sad, me blue,
Nahhh...I'm not as good at this as some others.
But I speak a dialect, quinnsky, the one that makes me the best scout in the tribal wars. And in fact, I'm actually fluent in crap-speak, the lingo of the insiderpicspeeps. Sometimes it has a certain ring to it. It's a patois, incidently.
OMG OMG WTF i am me
LOLY LOLY LOLY LOL
GNW but no one knows
(Three line chants are sacred for the insiderpicspeeps)
Need training in crap-speak. Sample text? And the ipp? Are they tall? Or small?
To continue the wide man's words:
The prophet said, "They are armed..."
Where there was earth, they have sown erosion.
Where there was truth, they have sown advertizing.
Where there was love, they have sown the Super Bowl.
Where there was justice, they have sown opinion polls.
Where there was dance, they have sown tranquilizers.
Where there was community, they have sown prime real estate.
"...and we are dangerous."
Don't ask me. I'm just repeatin' what he said.
no idea
tell us more
I think he's a French singer, partner. Move your head up. Need help? River was on the left, always on the left.
alls me gets here is that gftb, quinny and Des speak Frenchie.
I was unhappy that no one read my poem, which had an old word in crap-speak, not used today.
He's blue, 'tis true..
But tribal or libel?
Since hope springs eternal
He should be nocturnal-
Shapeshifters as he are too few.
barefoot
you look lonely on your the trail of tears
i share such loneliness
if i could write a poem, i would
Take flight, your fear is nigh..
Hold a breath, release a sigh.
Cowards fail, heros call..
Hold a hand, release and fall.
rancid peat amongst the leaves
leaves a taste for shrums and trees
tress that grow a thousand years
so some hippie can tie himself and his girfriend to the top, live up there for the summer, save the the tree and get credit for ecology 2.01 in the fall.
Doesn't quite rhyme, but has a ring to it?
Interesting at best, silly at least -
Comes to a crest, leaves with the beast.
blind and blue, I follow you
beyond the tree where I took a pee?
I'm really tired. I'm a morning person. Can you come back in about
7 hours? I'll be wired on a latte..
thanks for visiting out tribe, really
Truth was told, all I said -
Now is time to lay my head.
Pillow here, blanket there -
Thanks for listening...anywhere.
Roses are red
Cypher is blue
I took six damn hours trying to figure out something more clever I could say about it
But now I have work to do
Coda
Icky, sticky, kind of tricky,
"Mickey" doesn't rhyme with "crikie".
The Bangkok girls say "me no likie"
While you keep saying "don't be picky".
Yes, I smile.
A little while.
Farebooted. My apologies. I lumped you in with 'spam' yesterday. An unfair thing. Had been crossreading posts, got irritable, trashed about for names. Plucked yours. Won't do it again. Unconscionable. Sorry.
Farebooted?
I'm lysdexic.
desi is good, desi is bad
desi, the best bomb that we've ever had
will he go dirty or will he go clean
dirty works good, but clean is swift mean
donnerpass, sticky and icky with blood
snow cannot clean him, so vile was the flood
from tushies and fleshies of pics he once knew
Now wants to eat more like Desi can do
Tribal, barefoot, as you are too. Methinks you shape shift also, trained by some unknown spirit.
Mirrors create reflection.
Reflections create thought.
Thoughts create truth.
Truths create misconception.
Misconceptions create fear.
Fears create fanatics.
Fanatics create mirrors.
... Mirrors reverse reflection.
More than a few trails here now. Kind of interesting I'd say. No one liked it when this tribe talked about history, mythology, voting patterns in West Virginia, history of the civil rights movement, Obama and the Hiroshima Bomb, structural anthropology, paradigms for teaching history, patterns of anglo-celtic songs that reached Appalachia, proto-indo- european language studies, poetry of John Donne, patterns of pre-christian cultures and more recent Christian overlays, fer starters. Yep. We be just a bunch of lowlife dummies, not for the likes of these fancy folk.
the power of christ compels you
the power of christ compels you
leave tpm
the power of christ compels you
Everyone has their trail, friend. Welcome at the Lord's Table.
Compels.... hmmmm. Just a sec, and I'll check.
Nope. He says that's bullshit. Just more bullshit. And to leave Him outta it from now on. Actually, He said somethin' about how "you can't make a mule from a horse." Not quite sure what he meant.
These two kids. They know. One of em speaks American. Reinvigoration for the Nation.
Complication for your Consideration.
Obliteration for your Station.
Rumination for your Castration.
Dummification for your Illistration.
Well that's just damned..... harsh.
yeah, harsh....just what the Canada kid said. And was just going to give you a *hug*
did you mean that spelling on "ilistration" or was that a castration of the regular deal?
Stratification for your Immolation
Facination for your flatulation
Your face falls flat
The treeline spat
But what's behind
The broader strokes
Is but a piece
Of what's in store
When Donner unropes
The bag he totes
Don't look at me
With gazing eyes
Avunculed smile
That words bely
Until the limbs
Akimbo rise
And there you have
Your raison d'être
'Tis better unfettered
Than be et by a setter.
No matter what you think
I'm neither blue or pink.
No matter what you say
I just won't go away.
No matter what you do
I'll still be watching you -
But if I'm the Ghost who Walks, how come the shadow? Or if I'm the shadow, who am I trailing?
From The Ghost in this House to the Ghost who walks. Nothing more beautiful, sad or touching than this. Ein cadeau von mir falls du non lo conoces.
weren't that "settler" back then and also, there was a time we ets
chimps, but you're just a soup mix now. Still.......mighty hungry
and cold, and the bones are quite old.
I wuz thinkin he got et by a setter and the setter got et by a settler. Lot of good that did, then the cold came.
des, if anybody was actually with us in the snow, it surely was you.
You are the great shape-shifting shaman, and Prince here, surely. Thanks chimpo. We're on the road, but will check your performances.
Tally ho, into the snow we go.
Getting saddle sores from sitting still too much.
This is the Overlook Hotel at Donner Pass - this is the final stop, no further travel possible. We have been compelled before and will be compelled again, and yet you never seem to like the results. We are all one in spirit - it's the bodily incarnation that creates the confusion. Perhaps you would like to talk about the lambs? What exactly did you see?
Baaaaa....?
Arkansas, my head hurts.
I'd love to stick around and maybe make it worse.
Clarice, you cheap trailer trash Hoover girl, I smells you. I'll have to kill Miggs, though his liver is probably gone bad. But Clarice, do you ski? My friend donnerpass has a lodge. There are openings.
Anthony can't come. He's banned since that "Legends of the Stroke" movie.
See. I've been saying all along that Hillary's donnerpass wasn't fully prepared. She's not ready. How da like that MR director.
I would say "go to Hell" -
Better yet, re-check the spell.
Yup. I'm sorry. But what about my poem, the one that had the hippies in the trees? I thought it was good. I just couldn't find an end for it.
Left to mingle in the trees,
Lovers on the ground -
Through her eyes the more he sees,
Treasures to be found -
OK all you cowboys and cowgirls. Let's bunk down by this here fire. The trail is long, you know, up these high Cascades to the Sisters, the twin goddesses. We'll look down past the Sahalie soon and then to Abiqua. Sleep by the fire and keep an eye out for any wanderers.
And the shaman sang
wonder...wonder...wonder
Ohmmm......Ohmmmm.....Ohmmm
Hell. You take one day off. This reminds me of the one day I missed school one year. Whole damn school got into a food fight. Happened only once, and I missed it for some reruns of Charles in Charge.
Moral of the story - never take a day off because you might miss the food fight?
She didn't miss nothing last night, it was her turn to do DONNERPASS. No one told you. We didn't want to interrupt your sagas.
All seems infected that the infected spy, As all looks yellow to the jaundiced eye.
see, this is more you, the ingenue. donnerpass is such a stretch at this point in your career. The makeup was good though. How'd you get that grizzled thing?
Whoa....hold on head, you think that "infected spy ' is an ingenue
line, more like a Mata Hari, bunko. Who did you last night? The headless horseman. Hey, Mr. Director ! Notes please.
There are notes?
yes...but you have to get them from levi, that humming control freak. I think he liked you, though wants fewer lines, thinking that
you're best effective with less dialogue. That whole "canada trade " piece was effective, I thought. But ask levi. He's off the set, but around.
Is that a thread compliment? If so, on behalf of myself and perhaps two "other" people, Thanks!
Idunno, she doesn't tell us which episodes of Charles in Charge...
Don't recall now. One with the blond kids.
make that three, Hillary did Donnerpass
Yah. And I'll be less of a grump tomorrow. Donno what (beyond the obvious) got up my nose. Might be that Spain beat Italy, and Seaton'll be insufferabler.
'Course... then again.... that could be fun.
Less of a grump? But Trapper Quinn, you've such a fine way with words, closing our campfire with your tales. Just as I wandered into the mountains in my dreams, I heard you say, "Goodnight George C. Fucker. What a lovely thought. Thanks
And goodnight, George C. You fucker.
Rest in peace.
Damn.
Where's levi? We needs one of them hindi things to put some kind of nicety to breakfast. levi !!!!
He ain't singing nothing. Today's his turn to direct.
Right. And it's your turn to stop dialing it in. There will be NO performances till the "lead" gets a lot more range. Go off by a crick
and listen to the sound. That sound is you now. When you got that, go back to the old script of how you once were good looking, and a great singer, till all the krickkricts, the gftb's, and the barefoot indian girls chased you and tore you to pieces. Work on THAT moment. When you have it, and can really feel what's left of you, and I mean feel that you are only a damn head.....get into that damn krick and float to Lesbos.
Still casting there. But I'll have it done. I had an application from an old director named demented or something. Writes scripts as well.
Might give him a try as second chair for the Lesbos shoot. Now go work. Everyone, go work.
Junb trohh. Tlemkz phayemg fhuti wetl berj pirqlij om liaj wehh naki you appiar, wlat - qooh?!
MOT!
You might want to do some back story on the myth of Orpheus, You are so right for one of the parts. We're doing it in English here and French in canada. Does that work?
I will never back get the 5 minutes I spent on this thread.
We welcome all. But did your parents know you were coming? You'll need their permission next time.
But I feel more enlightened, somehow.
Imhegltimij? You riahhy nuzt bi hozt to femj et liri em am iqlo qlanbir.
Ruuum!!
So this is what touch typing looks like when performed by people who can't touch type? At least it's too early for you to be drunk...
It's actually pretty cool. But it does make my head hurt a little.
OK troupe. Pack it in. We're on the road. Seems like some insiderspicpeeps may come in and destroy the set. But what can you do? Our work is done here.
Cypher, you will not under any circumstance keep on appearing where you are not wanted. Is that clear ?? I mean, do you get it ??
That is over. Let's be graceful and play to our own audience. Check back in when the bus reaches the sea. We can do notes then.
And thus i speak as levi, he of the old troupe (you rookies) --I have said it, and it will not be undone,
You WANT to be the guide. But are you up to the task? Point us in a direction, Tell us why the center of the circle is not necessarily the center of Power. Have you been there? I asked before--I ask again. Have you been in the center of the circle? Did you think that was a poem? I wasn't fucking around. I'm waiting for your answer. Give it up. Tell us what you know.
Levi: Quit DICKING AROUND. If you know something, give it up. If you don't, QUIT DICKING AROUND.
A robin sings its twilight song.
QUIT DICKING AROUND, Levi.
He's gone, bunnycat, he's really gone. He goes with the wind, that one. To a journey on a winding path, I suspect. Past the old village, once called Bluff. Singing the blues and the songs of the mountains.
Uh...OK
June 22, 2008 3:31 PM | Reply | Permalink
Highly recommended. ;-D
June 22, 2008 3:33 PM | Reply | Permalink
ghost, blue, donner, levi are known aliases of glad all talking to each other, hoping somebody wanders in
quinn (saying "crapspeak", which glad says to himself) and gasket (what a coincidence, just romping through minutes after this incoherency is posted) appear, losing count of the nonpeople in here
mighty few actual people in here
mighty lame exercise going on
if you're not glad and you're in this thread, get out, the call is coming from inside the house
June 22, 2008 8:53 PM | Reply | Permalink
You're the only person that has come here to criticize this post. We were doing fine on our own. What's your beef? You can think what you want. But why spread negative thoughts here?
June 22, 2008 9:08 PM | Reply | Permalink
I asked spam to drop in and spread some negativity because the positivity was getting out of hand. And it said get out if you're not me, so beat it and leave me alone with myself.
And blue guy. What's this I hear about how articleman ran you off? If he ran you off, how come you came back? You better be careful.
June 22, 2008 10:30 PM | Reply | Permalink
Articleman didn't run me off, it was another. How weird to have someone follow me to threads and "out" me. Though articleman has a new idea that no one should "promote" their own work. I was going to point out the huge support of your citjour project by our tribe, but, he's a lawyer so I thought maybe he would figure it out.
I find a certain *squareness* in the 'nauts as a tribe.
We're happy over here. Had a good time amongst our crowd. A couple of new faces. Very pleasant. Someone thinks the quinn esq
kid is you. He's from Canada. Man, he doesn't know what he's in for on that.
June 22, 2008 11:34 PM | Reply | Permalink
I can't get over how square some of these people are. Right now, I'm trying to imagine a topic that would really make a difference in their lives. You know what I didn't figure about Obama? How really boring he and his message are.
June 22, 2008 11:59 PM | Reply | Permalink
I would say "go to Hell" -
Better yet, re-check the spell.
June 23, 2008 12:17 AM | Reply | Permalink
dude ! Why so mad. It's kinda calm and funny over here. I liked your poem.
June 23, 2008 12:22 AM | Reply | Permalink
;)
June 23, 2008 12:23 AM | Reply | Permalink
there you go... how about this :)
I hardly know how I did that. Can't think of a name for you. Path.
No. Whatever. I like your pic. Flowing, really. Looks good in the pic-form.
June 23, 2008 12:29 AM | Reply | Permalink
Winding Road.
June 23, 2008 10:05 AM | Reply | Permalink
most of the parts are filled at this moment, gasket, but your rep had a lot of cred. Who's your agent?
June 23, 2008 11:36 AM | Reply | Permalink
I am.
Gasket wants to be handin' out pamphlets. Constitutions &such. Regular English newsboy, he is. Seems there's few buyers lately.
But he'll shout for cash. Show us yer money. (I'm in for 30%.)
June 23, 2008 12:24 PM | Reply | Permalink
Well, Billy. I came here as a 'naut and was cured. I'm in a wait- and see -mode and hoping for the best. I still like him and think he's going to do well. But who knows? It's one thing to support Obama, and quite another to row like you're a 'naut slave.
June 23, 2008 12:25 AM | Reply | Permalink
Yes, he's the stiff guy in the corner drinking ginger ale that can't quite figure out the music.
Think Chauncey in "Being There" except with more self-awareness and media skills.
June 23, 2008 3:03 AM | Reply | Permalink
So you're sayin' he's somewhere between Fast Eddie and Chauncey? Why do I feel like we're not narrowing it down much here?
June 23, 2008 3:29 AM | Reply | Permalink
We are large, we contain motley dudes.
June 23, 2008 3:46 AM | Reply | Permalink
3 pts fer the pun'll getcha 3 pints fer anon.
thass me.
June 23, 2008 12:26 PM | Reply | Permalink
But Chancey had a garden
June 23, 2008 9:10 AM | Reply | Permalink
Totally Chauncey. Jerzy Kosinski.
June 23, 2008 10:13 AM | Reply | Permalink
Yeah, maybe. But you come across as a sanctimonious cunt, so who give a shit what you think?
June 23, 2008 10:36 PM | Reply | Permalink
Billy Glad: Why don't you go fart in a jar and sniff it? I think that would make you exceedingly happy.
June 23, 2008 9:20 PM | Reply | Permalink
BillY Glad, you are a complete dickhead. Did I mention that already? You lost because you didn't have the GUTS to fight. You lost because you think you can HINT at what you believe, and that what you believe in is clearly right. But the fact is, what you truly believe is total CRAP. You lost because the image of what you think you are overrides reality. But only for you. The rest of us never believed it in the first place. I jusr traveled 1500 miles to celebrate the birthday of a friend. That's what life is all about. Do you get it, Billy Glad?
June 23, 2008 10:12 PM | Reply | Permalink
Maybe if you weren't so obnoxious you could find a friend closer than 1500 miles.
Hint: did your parents have to tie a steak around your neck to get the dogs to even play with you?
June 24, 2008 2:48 AM | Reply | Permalink
NO PERSONAL ATTACKS. Don't you get it chimp !
New policy. Be nice. *hug* LOL
I'm considering asking TPM to take away your avatar as offensive, and also because we don't know who you are, or were and there have been accusations of some relationship, or meeting, or conspiracy with KNOWN offenders of various things we will not stand for in America.
So I ask you now:
HAVE YOU NOW OR EVER BEEN________________(space here for fill -ins__________________(Crap-speak) __________________ !
And if you don't believe me, I've retained ArticleObamaMan to sue you.
Dig it, you fragment, you toad, you __________space for fill ins_________________
BigBadJoe 1984
June 24, 2008 5:05 PM | Reply | Permalink
Spam. Come on. At least keep the alter-identities straight. You've got them all mixed up.
June 23, 2008 2:30 AM | Reply | Permalink
That was a neat trick DONNERPASS, pretending to "leave" for a day.
June 23, 2008 9:11 AM | Reply | Permalink
a cunning stunt.
June 23, 2008 9:22 PM | Reply | Permalink
you can't beat the white and green colors wafting down the thread.
June 24, 2008 5:09 PM | Reply | Permalink
Why? You thinkin?
June 22, 2008 3:47 PM | Reply | Permalink
I'm a vile thing, quinn. I don't want to hurt your feelings. So, where's the trail?
June 22, 2008 3:57 PM | Reply | Permalink
hard to sneak up on us Quinnie...we got all these trails covered.
But the boys in the bunk house are interested in what kind of tracker you might be.
June 22, 2008 4:01 PM | Reply | Permalink
We are the last of the Hyperboreans. The snow holds no trails, ahead or behind.
The coyotes and I roam these canyons and squares,
our long, ragged coats sweep the streets
as we wander.
We are the Cherokee Curse
upon the American Mall,
pursuing the Trail with magic
and soft padded paw.
The coyotes stop to breathe on a store window,
warm tongues on cold glass
write the revolutionary word:
Communion.
As a wider man once said.
June 22, 2008 4:26 PM | Reply | Permalink
Wow, oh bald head with exposed hard and soft palates. I want what you're smokin' !
June 22, 2008 4:50 PM | Reply | Permalink
We are stakes through the eye of fashion,
and our bride is squalor.
We are safety net fallout,
and regret nothing.
We are the silent extras,
on the Imperial set.
June 22, 2008 5:09 PM | Reply | Permalink
You are:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFRuLFR91e4
June 22, 2008 6:11 PM | Reply | Permalink
Oui. Rien.
June 22, 2008 6:35 PM | Reply | Permalink
Ceci n'est pas une pipe.
June 22, 2008 6:39 PM | Reply | Permalink
Ahhh. But it COULD have been.
June 22, 2008 9:28 PM | Reply | Permalink
I don't know. It's probably something that eats right through your soft tissue.
June 22, 2008 5:58 PM | Reply | Permalink
I got about 20 pounds of soft tissue I wouldn't mind it eatin through.
June 22, 2008 11:14 PM | Reply | Permalink
ok quinny
you be on some trail we ain't seeing...yet
back on this later...
June 22, 2008 4:50 PM | Reply | Permalink
Trapper Quinn,
We welcome you to the campfire. But we don't speak no frenchie, 'cept the few words of the trade language. Is it true that you don't sing or fiddle american? We'd like that, if we know the words, and
even if we cain't knowem. Could you give us a tune now, and parlay the american fer us?
June 22, 2008 8:07 PM | Reply | Permalink
I once knew a girl. We met every morning in a little cafe. A greasy one. Eggs and sausage, toast and coffee every morning. The authorities tried to close it down on us. She stopped 'em. Damned if they would've listened to me. She used to talk to Americans. But they were kinda afraid, what with her red hair and all. So.
She stopped.
This is the song she wrote about it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qCFbKEVzlOo
To turn away a woman like that? Well, after that, I figured they'd never listen to a fool such as me. Nothin to do but wait for em to work it out. Work the poison out. It didn't get there by itself.
June 22, 2008 9:41 PM | Reply | Permalink
quinn, I find this hard to say, but speaking as a head with a head for chaos, i don't have a clue what this is about. Is it the girl? Stumped by chaos on my own chaotic blog.
June 22, 2008 11:39 PM | Reply | Permalink
The song or the story?
June 23, 2008 12:15 AM | Reply | Permalink
Ok. The story. Maybe Spam & Co. will figure out I'm not you. (Or you. Or you.) They seem to have a hard time with the idea that one man might have more than one story. Since their lives seem to lack some juice, I'll be literal here. I sometimes have to be, though it's a dreadful comedown from the people we need to be. But if Spam and Barefooted come back this way and are still having a hard time figuring it out, well... that's their loss. I'm tired. I can spare one story. Life has many, done properly.
I spent most of 1996-2002 in London. Big times, much to do politically, etc. Blair was coming. And I'd promised to come back, just to help reverse the works of Maggie. So I did.
I lived near the Heath. Hampstead Heath. There was a little cafe, down at the foot of Parliament Hill and South End Road. Called Polly's. Here. Look. Come on in.
http://www.welovelocal.com/en/london/camden/belsize-park/cafes/pollys-nw32qb.html
It was a greasy spoon. Perfect for me. So I'd fall down the hill every morning for coffee etc. Turned out it was also the haunt of Annie Lennox. Same Mendes. Minghella. Made for interesting chats. Mendes was doing American Beauty.
Thus, Annie's "the girl." When in the Eurythmics, her sexuality scared the shit out of people. The red short hair and all. When the Council tried to close Polly's down for some stupid licensing thing, Annie organized the response. We won.
The English struggle with America, and what it means. The song was her video on the end of a love affair. With America. the love's still there, but the horror got pretty thick for a while.
I'm not a riddler. Myth, I get.
But fuckitalltohell. My blood's from America. Fucking Mayflower. Fuller's. My family's back in America now. I'm not, as of yet. Decisions to make. But I feel it. And if you can't see the look in Annie's face, ricking herself in pain, in the back of that cab, and get what this has all meant to people... well. I kinda run out of words. And now.... when there's the slightest sniff of hope... to see the morons, as one-dimensional as ever, still not having figured out that THAT'S why the ship got captained by a fool, to not get that the cubic souls they've created are the very problem, and now, all of them clustering in to close hope off.... It kills me.
Do not mistake me. I think Obama carries a great deal in this time. So much so that in fact I'm sure he will fail and sink under the waves from time to time. We'll see if he also rises. Which is precisely why the dull would do well to understand myth.
There. I'm unlikely to be this literal again. Christ, I hope I don't have to be.
June 23, 2008 12:50 AM | Reply | Permalink
Good ol' Camden, if I'd only known which corner to hunker into I'd have been famous, or brushed with fame. Instead I chose Hackney, and what did they give me? A Cab. And a good pint with chips. Now I have a Camden exile here, no better for the travel - he's turned into a werewolf. Probably Polly's fault as well.
June 23, 2008 1:57 AM | Reply | Permalink
Hackney, Des? Used to hang at London Fields. Albion Drive. Colombia Market. Many friends there. Election Night, in fact. Ahhhh, that was glorious. "Like A Rolling Stone" snarling out windows at 2 am when Maggie's crew went down. How does it feeeeeel? Had to move to the Heath, Hackney got no tube. Had everything else though.
June 23, 2008 2:25 AM | Reply | Permalink
Funny, I have a brilliant bootleg of Like A Rolling Stone from Albert Hall that I bought in Camden Market only to discover later that the nice stark stereo sound vanishes about 18 seconds later into a mush mono mess. But the beginning is beautiful.
June 23, 2008 3:22 AM | Reply | Permalink
And THAT wins the prize as "Best Description Of Tony Blair."
I'm bein' cruel. He did a lot. For a lot longer than 18 seconds.
But at some point... nothin' but static in that boy's head.
June 23, 2008 3:26 AM | Reply | Permalink
He's the political equivalent of the Thompson Twins - there's only so much of that you can take before you come out looking like a... poodle?
June 23, 2008 3:45 AM | Reply | Permalink
who are the Thompson twins?
June 23, 2008 9:27 AM | Reply | Permalink
T-Twins. Sad story from youngr days. Boy meets girl. Find twinship. Stare into others eyes. Twins meet synthesizer. They connect. Hold me now, they sing. Synthesizer does. Twins assimilated. Much lunch money is saved, but song remains the same. Tragedy often repeated amongst the Eurotrash peoples.
June 23, 2008 11:06 AM | Reply | Permalink
was it a Korg or at least a Roland?
June 23, 2008 11:42 AM | Reply | Permalink
King Roland, not Rothgar.
June 24, 2008 4:35 AM | Reply | Permalink
There was a young girl named Annie
Who exposed a bit much of her fanny
(While the Yanks say "her crotch",
It was only a splotch,
But the fame that it brought was uncanny).
June 23, 2008 3:50 AM | Reply | Permalink
Wasn't she a Brit an needing therapy?
June 23, 2008 9:49 AM | Reply | Permalink
No...bad delivery there damn it.
Try something like "Britten Needs" and make a face also, as if you have *noticed* the missing undergarments.
June 23, 2008 11:55 AM | Reply | Permalink
Now I'm thinking of Britney and her knees and that really horrid snatch shot. Water, I need water....
June 24, 2008 2:55 AM | Reply | Permalink
Beware, lest you stare too long into the abyss....
June 24, 2008 10:18 AM | Reply | Permalink
And apologies to all others reading. Twas "spam" that got up my nose. People who worry about multiple avatars, and then speak in the name of Christ.... I honestly don't know what to say about idiots like that. Ack. I need Mars Attacks.
June 23, 2008 12:57 AM | Reply | Permalink
quinn, just saw this and I'll give it a fine read in the morning. All stories are welcome here. Thanks for visiting the tribe. See you in the morning.
June 23, 2008 1:01 AM | Reply | Permalink
OK. Barefoot is not the enemy, so you'll need to re-read the poems, and apologize. That's important.
The story:The content often summerged in the style, though I must say, that is my style too, so extra points for being obtuse. Style matters, content less so.
Seems you lived in England from 1996-2002 and worked for Tony Blair, angry that your previous girlfriend "Maggie" has undone the Brits. Maggie wasn't into the old/young thing (at least with you) so you went looking for a new girlfriend with a greasy spoon (did you have it, or did she). This took place at a lively little cafe where you met Desidero. Also at this lover's nestle were various celebrities that no one remembers. You feel in love with the one who sells her Cds on CD Baby. Her video broke your heart, and that's when you started channelling Piaf, because, as much as you like older women, she was sleeping with the headless horseman in the states. There were many talks about the meaning of life. Then you had some crisis about who you really are. I thought you were from Canada, now you're a returning Brit, but you came on the Mayflower, but not with the 'nauts. You have angst.
Desi met you at the cafe. You and he reflect on apartments. You offer yours, but the chimp wants a better pad.
You are sometimes angry. Amazing stuff. Do I believe it? Oddly, I do.
June 23, 2008 9:25 AM | Reply | Permalink
It's almost like you were there. Or with the NSA.
Except for the Des part. If memory serves (when does memory ever 'serve,' BTW?) 'hoo, Des was DJ'ing, perma-high, XXXtatic, bringing Madchester to the masses. One night, BPM's rose beyond human limits, 78 young people exploded, Des forced to flee.
Bewarned.
June 23, 2008 11:01 AM | Reply | Permalink
apologize yet to barefoot?
June 23, 2008 11:35 AM | Reply | Permalink
If he doesn't show respect to the other actors, we can't use him.
June 23, 2008 11:56 AM | Reply | Permalink
yah. done below.
where do i get to go to bitch about everyone? prima donna's. stepped on lines. director who doesn't recognize talent. ass fat in these pants. surely to god, there's a place.
June 23, 2008 12:21 PM | Reply | Permalink
There is certainly a place for the more experienced actors. Don't you have your own thread somewhere. Some of my actors are blacklisted in the other theaters. Your theater would be best for your own beefs. We tend to keep the blacklisted actors in a safe place. Good roles over there. We'll give a look now and then. We're going on tour anyway with no return engagements here. Good to meet you,
June 23, 2008 12:37 PM | Reply | Permalink
I think they're saying off-Broadway - I'd say shag it and head for Ibiza or Mallorca, this Shakespeare society stuff is getting on my nerves. Now where's my water bottle?
June 24, 2008 2:59 AM | Reply | Permalink
Could have been worse - a closet with a rope around my neck? Exiled to Devon listening to my Siouxsie disks get scratchier and scratchier? Stuck in Scotland spotting trains?
June 24, 2008 2:53 AM | Reply | Permalink
the song next time
June 23, 2008 9:35 AM | Reply | Permalink
Yah.
June 23, 2008 11:07 AM | Reply | Permalink
Fear not, I'm not gonna talk to you.
June 22, 2008 3:55 PM | Reply | Permalink
Ah...but it's Cypher who should fear you, codeman. You see everything. I hate you computer guys. So smug just because you can write the code the rest of us need for air.....
June 22, 2008 4:03 PM | Reply | Permalink
Hey, someone's gotta do the dirty work...
June 22, 2008 4:32 PM | Reply | Permalink
what about that "clean code" thing you guys are always bitchin' about?
June 22, 2008 4:49 PM | Reply | Permalink
Clean code and dirty work are not mutually exclusive. When all you do is shifting bits and bytes around, strange things can happen.
June 22, 2008 5:11 PM | Reply | Permalink
you're telling me...my dirty code needs some real debugging ...that's code talk, right?
June 22, 2008 5:35 PM | Reply | Permalink
Dirty code may be beyond redemption and no amount of debugging, baling wire and duct tape may save it. But even clean code tends to need debugging. It's just that clean code is a lot easier to work with than dirty code.
June 22, 2008 5:55 PM | Reply | Permalink
Until it's smut code it's not worth my undies drawer. Keep crackin'. Keep hackin'.
June 22, 2008 6:41 PM | Reply | Permalink
schmutzig,, (umlaut?) code
nicht gut
June 22, 2008 7:08 PM | Reply | Permalink
I'm not talking. I'm communicating to those wires you have connected to your head. I'm sending you secret messages only you will be able to "decypher."
June 22, 2008 4:17 PM | Reply | Permalink
girl, you ain't bad lookin', even if you ain't blue. Me wires be hot.
June 22, 2008 4:22 PM | Reply | Permalink
They're not. They'd be red if they were really hot.
June 22, 2008 4:30 PM | Reply | Permalink
you're a code guy. could you do the chimp thing and make them glow on and off?
June 22, 2008 4:41 PM | Reply | Permalink
You need a graphics dude (or dudette) for that. I'm not so good when it comes to visual art.
June 22, 2008 5:14 PM | Reply | Permalink
This is the chimp thing when hot. Hard to get back in the bottle. I am become death, destroyer of worlds. Dig my orangeness.
June 22, 2008 6:43 PM | Reply | Permalink
Atoms at 700 k coming towards me and I count them.
Ohm....Ohm...Ohmm
June 22, 2008 7:32 PM | Reply | Permalink
Aren't you a pic? A blue guy, but still a pic, no?
June 22, 2008 4:27 PM | Reply | Permalink
drift thing, how's that hobo stuff working for you.
well, here's the deal...what constitutes a pic or a person is highly debated among the different tribes.
some say that warpaint is a mythic transformation, transformative, as it were, and often through a plant my tribe collects then heats and becomes a sacred smoke we call "dormshaman."
June 22, 2008 4:47 PM | Reply | Permalink
In that case, I could definitely go for a transformation right about now.
June 22, 2008 4:58 PM | Reply | Permalink
we sell our smoke you know.
you being a drifter and all that, haven't you seen anyone from our tribe, decked out in shamanic garments, chanting, and taking VISA for beads, beer or tabacci ?
June 22, 2008 5:10 PM | Reply | Permalink
Cypher, almost time to bunk down. But you done good boy. Look at the lyricism of the colors flowing down the thread like a sweet water cascade ! If they only understood that our people just like the mythic message of the colors, dagnabbit.
June 22, 2008 8:20 PM | Reply | Permalink
Blue Dude finally posts!
I ran out to feel the pulse of the White Oak on my doorstep to see if all's well. Nothing's wrong, and yet, here's the Blue Dude posting.
C'mon, sweet thang, let us talk to you.
Tell us, who're you really looking to talk to?
June 22, 2008 5:15 PM | Reply | Permalink
crick, you girl of C's heart. The boys in the bunk house have told me that I'm getting hurt all the time by opening up my deepest feelings **hug**
what should I do?
June 22, 2008 5:30 PM | Reply | Permalink
Why're you opening up your deepest feelings on cyberspace? Find a horse to talk to. That's what I do. Got a Centaur living next door. Give him his carrots every evening and he listens to me before his two legs shows up and takes him home. You do the same, find a horse.
On another thread I saw people yelling atchya. Them's people known to have good hearts and yet they were yellin' atchya. Why? What did you do?
June 22, 2008 5:47 PM | Reply | Permalink
He's blue. That's enough for some people.
Come to think of it, you're pretty blue (pretty in blue?) too... and so am I. But he's still the bluest.
June 22, 2008 5:57 PM | Reply | Permalink
i'm blue, true,but seriously wired with the old guage. Me wires are frayed, C++ (?) man, and i'm too deep in the forest, down by the bridge and too near that spot down the hill from the church with the river on the right (or was that left00 gotta ask donner) and too close to where the traitor's messenger was caught with the plans of the USA to be saved. I hate red-coats.
but ever true to my friends
June 22, 2008 6:15 PM | Reply | Permalink
Major John André. Fascinating character from what little I read about him.
June 22, 2008 6:18 PM | Reply | Permalink
King Solomon or Henry?
June 22, 2008 6:48 PM | Reply | Permalink
On second thought, I'll go with Henry. Even though he was a wife killer and evil man.
June 22, 2008 7:08 PM | Reply | Permalink
So. You got interested in Major Andre. Honestly I don't know much about him except his excellent speech at the hanging. I'm intrigued by Arnold. What makes a fellow turn traitor? He was a hero, after all. What's a little politics in an army. Happens all the time. Patton didn't go fight for the Germans cause Ike dissed him.
Andre. Poor soul. They wouldn't even shoot him --hanged him.
Redcoat spy in Tarrytown NY. Who would have imagined ?
June 22, 2008 7:17 PM | Reply | Permalink
There's a poem in here somewhere contrasting Solomon and Henry. But I'm out of material.
Codeman, were you around for the treasures on the right? Especially the Marc Chagall stained glass windows in the church?
June 22, 2008 7:40 PM | Reply | Permalink
Okay, folks, dig deep for our poetry muse,
his lips are parched, his spirit's flagged,
a penny or tuppence to revive his spirit
and his fine eye for a catchy rhyme.
Step lively, lass! Mead! All around!
June 23, 2008 2:03 AM | Reply | Permalink
you're a night person, right?
June 23, 2008 9:47 AM | Reply | Permalink
Trying to lighten up...
June 24, 2008 4:40 AM | Reply | Permalink
crickala, (Blue guy speaks yiddish)
You say get me a horse ! Damn if that's not what the old guy keeps telling me. But crick, I tried the horse thing and that's how I became a lopped
thing, with only wires to my former form.
As for people yelling and whining and passing attitudes --you mean that kind of thing.
Well, my little crushed piece of pineapple, you see that some pics allow other pics great license and won't cut the blue guy a break....group **grp hug**
Also, me madonna, in my tribe we honor humor the most, and have a fucking sense of humor. In fact, the game among our tribe is sneaking up on one another all the time, and planning for it, and writing poems about it, and riddles, any such thing....that's the trail of tears, crick,.,we are going it for the other shamans..
June 22, 2008 6:23 PM | Reply | Permalink
But crikie, that's like arguing which mirage is the miragiest. We're all ephemeral.
June 22, 2008 6:45 PM | Reply | Permalink
Hmmmm.......
June 22, 2008 7:43 PM | Reply | Permalink
aaack!
Blue Dude - crickala
Desi -- crikie
feeling very much in the middle
This thread is no longer on the list.
June 22, 2008 8:06 PM | Reply | Permalink
What list, pretty lady?
June 22, 2008 8:17 PM | Reply | Permalink
Reader Post list. I am wrong. It's still there.
June 22, 2008 8:27 PM | Reply | Permalink
What made you look? What made you care?
June 22, 2008 8:34 PM | Reply | Permalink
I was out wandering blogspace and then returned and was trying to reply to the Blue Dude and could not find this thread on the list. I thought it had gone over the top and to sleep. I was looking in the wrong place.
June 22, 2008 8:43 PM | Reply | Permalink
Look at the colors of thread ! I'm the only loser, the old black and white guy. This, cricket, is a conversation of high moment. You got the color thing right at the get-go. There's something fine always in elegance. Don't feel in the middle of anything. Except beauty. Everywhere on this page.
June 22, 2008 8:51 PM | Reply | Permalink
Thanks, oldtimer.
Yes, it is a pretty thread.
June 23, 2008 12:45 AM | Reply | Permalink
crickcrick,
I cant get over the blue highlighted by the bright yellow and softened by the earthy browns. Color beats content, it is meaning.
June 23, 2008 9:30 AM | Reply | Permalink
yes, a talent. Does she have an agent? Let's get in a call to her people. Not sure on the various names, though:
cricket, crickie, crickala, crickcrik, and SHE calls herself AAACK.
We'll have to deal with that later.
June 23, 2008 10:47 AM | Reply | Permalink
ztop nakemg fum of ny mani, Berj Liaj!!
June 23, 2008 11:49 AM | Reply | Permalink
You do foreign roles also. Really, who is your agent? Ms. Cricket.
June 23, 2008 11:52 AM | Reply | Permalink
Mo omi you kmow. Qirtaemhy mot zoni juji manij Jinintij. Ajmyway, E lavi mo teni tojay to qlat wetl fhuti phayemg poziurz wetl berjz om tlier liajjz.
Byi.
June 23, 2008 11:57 AM | Reply | Permalink
Pljukng Bwjlynt.
June 24, 2008 3:06 AM | Reply | Permalink
OK quinnie, me mounty boy
let's see if me can smoke up a verse--
I'm so tired
I'm just not wired
THAT ain't no good. Wait up.
Me sad, me blue,
Nahhh...I'm not as good at this as some others.
But I speak a dialect, quinnsky, the one that makes me the best scout in the tribal wars. And in fact, I'm actually fluent in crap-speak, the lingo of the insiderpicspeeps. Sometimes it has a certain ring to it. It's a patois, incidently.
OMG OMG WTF i am me
LOLY LOLY LOLY LOL
GNW but no one knows
(Three line chants are sacred for the insiderpicspeeps)
June 22, 2008 5:27 PM | Reply | Permalink
Need training in crap-speak. Sample text? And the ipp? Are they tall? Or small?
To continue the wide man's words:
The prophet said, "They are armed..."
Where there was earth, they have sown erosion.
Where there was truth, they have sown advertizing.
Where there was love, they have sown the Super Bowl.
Where there was justice, they have sown opinion polls.
Where there was dance, they have sown tranquilizers.
Where there was community, they have sown prime real estate.
"...and we are dangerous."
Don't ask me. I'm just repeatin' what he said.
June 22, 2008 5:55 PM | Reply | Permalink
no idea
tell us more
June 22, 2008 6:09 PM | Reply | Permalink
I think he's a French singer, partner. Move your head up. Need help? River was on the left, always on the left.
June 22, 2008 7:52 PM | Reply | Permalink
alls me gets here is that gftb, quinny and Des speak Frenchie.
June 23, 2008 9:38 AM | Reply | Permalink
I was unhappy that no one read my poem, which had an old word in crap-speak, not used today.
June 23, 2008 10:00 AM | Reply | Permalink
He's blue, 'tis true..
But tribal or libel?
Since hope springs eternal
He should be nocturnal-
Shapeshifters as he are too few.
June 22, 2008 6:27 PM | Reply | Permalink
barefoot
you look lonely on your the trail of tears
i share such loneliness
if i could write a poem, i would
June 22, 2008 7:21 PM | Reply | Permalink
Take flight, your fear is nigh..
Hold a breath, release a sigh.
Cowards fail, heros call..
Hold a hand, release and fall.
June 22, 2008 9:37 PM | Reply | Permalink
rancid peat amongst the leaves
leaves a taste for shrums and trees
tress that grow a thousand years
so some hippie can tie himself and his girfriend to the top, live up there for the summer, save the the tree and get credit for ecology 2.01 in the fall.
Doesn't quite rhyme, but has a ring to it?
June 22, 2008 11:43 PM | Reply | Permalink
Interesting at best, silly at least -
Comes to a crest, leaves with the beast.
June 23, 2008 12:34 AM | Reply | Permalink
blind and blue, I follow you
beyond the tree where I took a pee?
I'm really tired. I'm a morning person. Can you come back in about
7 hours? I'll be wired on a latte..
thanks for visiting out tribe, really
June 23, 2008 12:42 AM | Reply | Permalink
Truth was told, all I said -
Now is time to lay my head.
Pillow here, blanket there -
Thanks for listening...anywhere.
June 23, 2008 1:42 AM | Reply | Permalink
Roses are red
Cypher is blue
I took six damn hours trying to figure out something more clever I could say about it
But now I have work to do
Coda
Icky, sticky, kind of tricky,
"Mickey" doesn't rhyme with "crikie".
The Bangkok girls say "me no likie"
While you keep saying "don't be picky".
June 23, 2008 2:12 AM | Reply | Permalink
Yes, I smile.
A little while.
June 23, 2008 2:41 AM | Reply | Permalink
Farebooted. My apologies. I lumped you in with 'spam' yesterday. An unfair thing. Had been crossreading posts, got irritable, trashed about for names. Plucked yours. Won't do it again. Unconscionable. Sorry.
June 23, 2008 11:17 AM | Reply | Permalink
Farebooted?
June 24, 2008 2:52 AM | Reply | Permalink
I'm lysdexic.
June 24, 2008 10:08 AM | Reply | Permalink
desi is good, desi is bad
desi, the best bomb that we've ever had
will he go dirty or will he go clean
dirty works good, but clean is swift mean
June 23, 2008 9:33 AM | Reply | Permalink
donnerpass, sticky and icky with blood
snow cannot clean him, so vile was the flood
from tushies and fleshies of pics he once knew
Now wants to eat more like Desi can do
June 23, 2008 9:46 AM | Reply | Permalink
Tribal, barefoot, as you are too. Methinks you shape shift also, trained by some unknown spirit.
June 23, 2008 9:56 AM | Reply | Permalink
Mirrors create reflection.
Reflections create thought.
Thoughts create truth.
Truths create misconception.
Misconceptions create fear.
Fears create fanatics.
Fanatics create mirrors.
June 24, 2008 3:06 AM | Reply | Permalink
... Mirrors reverse reflection.
June 24, 2008 10:10 AM | Reply | Permalink
More than a few trails here now. Kind of interesting I'd say. No one liked it when this tribe talked about history, mythology, voting patterns in West Virginia, history of the civil rights movement, Obama and the Hiroshima Bomb, structural anthropology, paradigms for teaching history, patterns of anglo-celtic songs that reached Appalachia, proto-indo- european language studies, poetry of John Donne, patterns of pre-christian cultures and more recent Christian overlays, fer starters. Yep. We be just a bunch of lowlife dummies, not for the likes of these fancy folk.
June 22, 2008 8:15 PM | Reply | Permalink
the power of christ compels you
the power of christ compels you
leave tpm
the power of christ compels you
June 22, 2008 8:55 PM | Reply | Permalink
Everyone has their trail, friend. Welcome at the Lord's Table.
June 22, 2008 8:58 PM | Reply | Permalink
Compels.... hmmmm. Just a sec, and I'll check.
Nope. He says that's bullshit. Just more bullshit. And to leave Him outta it from now on. Actually, He said somethin' about how "you can't make a mule from a horse." Not quite sure what he meant.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6wUPCqwWI8
These two kids. They know. One of em speaks American. Reinvigoration for the Nation.
June 22, 2008 10:01 PM | Reply | Permalink
Complication for your Consideration.
Obliteration for your Station.
Rumination for your Castration.
Dummification for your Illistration.
June 22, 2008 10:25 PM | Reply | Permalink
Well that's just damned..... harsh.
June 22, 2008 11:19 PM | Reply | Permalink
yeah, harsh....just what the Canada kid said. And was just going to give you a *hug*
did you mean that spelling on "ilistration" or was that a castration of the regular deal?
June 22, 2008 11:46 PM | Reply | Permalink
Stratification for your Immolation
June 23, 2008 2:06 AM | Reply | Permalink
Facination for your flatulation
June 23, 2008 2:45 AM | Reply | Permalink
Your face falls flat
The treeline spat
But what's behind
The broader strokes
Is but a piece
Of what's in store
When Donner unropes
The bag he totes
Don't look at me
With gazing eyes
Avunculed smile
That words bely
Until the limbs
Akimbo rise
And there you have
Your raison d'être
'Tis better unfettered
Than be et by a setter.
June 23, 2008 3:19 AM | Reply | Permalink
No matter what you think
I'm neither blue or pink.
No matter what you say
I just won't go away.
No matter what you do
I'll still be watching you -
June 23, 2008 3:35 AM | Reply | Permalink
But if I'm the Ghost who Walks, how come the shadow? Or if I'm the shadow, who am I trailing?
June 23, 2008 4:43 AM | Reply | Permalink
From The Ghost in this House to the Ghost who walks. Nothing more beautiful, sad or touching than this. Ein cadeau von mir falls du non lo conoces.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dWRGZaHb8xE
June 23, 2008 2:28 PM | Reply | Permalink
The shadow will remain with its owner.
The one and truest donor.
June 24, 2008 3:55 AM | Reply | Permalink
weren't that "settler" back then and also, there was a time we ets
chimps, but you're just a soup mix now. Still.......mighty hungry
and cold, and the bones are quite old.
June 23, 2008 9:54 AM | Reply | Permalink
I wuz thinkin he got et by a setter and the setter got et by a settler. Lot of good that did, then the cold came.
June 23, 2008 12:06 PM | Reply | Permalink
des, if anybody was actually with us in the snow, it surely was you.
You are the great shape-shifting shaman, and Prince here, surely. Thanks chimpo. We're on the road, but will check your performances.
June 23, 2008 12:44 PM | Reply | Permalink
Tally ho, into the snow we go.
Getting saddle sores from sitting still too much.
June 23, 2008 1:09 PM | Reply | Permalink
This is the Overlook Hotel at Donner Pass - this is the final stop, no further travel possible. We have been compelled before and will be compelled again, and yet you never seem to like the results. We are all one in spirit - it's the bodily incarnation that creates the confusion. Perhaps you would like to talk about the lambs? What exactly did you see?
June 23, 2008 2:24 AM | Reply | Permalink
Baaaaa....?
Arkansas, my head hurts.
I'd love to stick around and maybe make it worse.
http://www.imeem.com/people/kX4Dhqp/music/6a_MjwUw/hayes_carll_bad_liver_and_a_broken_heart/
June 23, 2008 2:31 AM | Reply | Permalink
Clarice, you cheap trailer trash Hoover girl, I smells you. I'll have to kill Miggs, though his liver is probably gone bad. But Clarice, do you ski? My friend donnerpass has a lodge. There are openings.
Anthony can't come. He's banned since that "Legends of the Stroke" movie.
June 23, 2008 10:10 AM | Reply | Permalink
See. I've been saying all along that Hillary's donnerpass wasn't fully prepared. She's not ready. How da like that MR director.
June 23, 2008 10:15 AM | Reply | Permalink
I would say "go to Hell" -
Better yet, re-check the spell.
June 23, 2008 12:22 AM | Reply | Permalink
Yup. I'm sorry. But what about my poem, the one that had the hippies in the trees? I thought it was good. I just couldn't find an end for it.
June 23, 2008 12:32 AM | Reply | Permalink
Left to mingle in the trees,
Lovers on the ground -
Through her eyes the more he sees,
Treasures to be found -
June 23, 2008 12:43 AM | Reply | Permalink
OK all you cowboys and cowgirls. Let's bunk down by this here fire. The trail is long, you know, up these high Cascades to the Sisters, the twin goddesses. We'll look down past the Sahalie soon and then to Abiqua. Sleep by the fire and keep an eye out for any wanderers.
June 23, 2008 12:53 AM | Reply | Permalink
And the shaman sang
wonder...wonder...wonder
Ohmmm......Ohmmmm.....Ohmmm
June 23, 2008 12:55 AM | Reply | Permalink
Hell. You take one day off. This reminds me of the one day I missed school one year. Whole damn school got into a food fight. Happened only once, and I missed it for some reruns of Charles in Charge.
June 23, 2008 2:33 AM | Reply | Permalink
Moral of the story - never take a day off because you might miss the food fight?
June 23, 2008 3:58 AM | Reply | Permalink
She didn't miss nothing last night, it was her turn to do DONNERPASS. No one told you. We didn't want to interrupt your sagas.
June 23, 2008 9:59 AM | Reply | Permalink
All seems infected that the infected spy, As all looks yellow to the jaundiced eye.
June 23, 2008 10:11 AM | Reply | Permalink
see, this is more you, the ingenue. donnerpass is such a stretch at this point in your career. The makeup was good though. How'd you get that grizzled thing?
June 23, 2008 10:19 AM | Reply | Permalink
Whoa....hold on head, you think that "infected spy ' is an ingenue
line, more like a Mata Hari, bunko. Who did you last night? The headless horseman. Hey, Mr. Director ! Notes please.
June 23, 2008 10:22 AM | Reply | Permalink
There are notes?
June 23, 2008 11:12 AM | Reply | Permalink
yes...but you have to get them from levi, that humming control freak. I think he liked you, though wants fewer lines, thinking that
you're best effective with less dialogue. That whole "canada trade " piece was effective, I thought. But ask levi. He's off the set, but around.
June 23, 2008 11:40 AM | Reply | Permalink
Is that a thread compliment? If so, on behalf of myself and perhaps two "other" people, Thanks!
June 23, 2008 3:08 AM | Reply | Permalink
Idunno, she doesn't tell us which episodes of Charles in Charge...
June 23, 2008 3:26 AM | Reply | Permalink
Don't recall now. One with the blond kids.
June 23, 2008 10:22 AM | Reply | Permalink
make that three, Hillary did Donnerpass
June 23, 2008 10:03 AM | Reply | Permalink
Yah. And I'll be less of a grump tomorrow. Donno what (beyond the obvious) got up my nose. Might be that Spain beat Italy, and Seaton'll be insufferabler.
'Course... then again.... that could be fun.
June 23, 2008 3:22 AM | Reply | Permalink
Less of a grump? But Trapper Quinn, you've such a fine way with words, closing our campfire with your tales. Just as I wandered into the mountains in my dreams, I heard you say, "Goodnight George C. Fucker. What a lovely thought. Thanks
June 23, 2008 10:27 AM | Reply | Permalink
And goodnight, George C. You fucker.
Rest in peace.
Damn.
June 23, 2008 3:33 AM | Reply | Permalink
Where's levi? We needs one of them hindi things to put some kind of nicety to breakfast. levi !!!!
June 23, 2008 10:29 AM | Reply | Permalink
He ain't singing nothing. Today's his turn to direct.
June 23, 2008 10:31 AM | Reply | Permalink
Right. And it's your turn to stop dialing it in. There will be NO performances till the "lead" gets a lot more range. Go off by a crick
and listen to the sound. That sound is you now. When you got that, go back to the old script of how you once were good looking, and a great singer, till all the krickkricts, the gftb's, and the barefoot indian girls chased you and tore you to pieces. Work on THAT moment. When you have it, and can really feel what's left of you, and I mean feel that you are only a damn head.....get into that damn krick and float to Lesbos.
Still casting there. But I'll have it done. I had an application from an old director named demented or something. Writes scripts as well.
Might give him a try as second chair for the Lesbos shoot. Now go work. Everyone, go work.
June 23, 2008 10:56 AM | Reply | Permalink
Junb trohh. Tlemkz phayemg fhuti wetl berj pirqlij om liaj wehh naki you appiar, wlat - qooh?!
MOT!
June 23, 2008 11:52 AM | Reply | Permalink
You might want to do some back story on the myth of Orpheus, You are so right for one of the parts. We're doing it in English here and French in canada. Does that work?
June 23, 2008 11:59 AM | Reply | Permalink
I will never back get the 5 minutes I spent on this thread.
June 23, 2008 11:37 AM | Reply | Permalink
We welcome all. But did your parents know you were coming? You'll need their permission next time.
June 23, 2008 12:01 PM | Reply | Permalink
But I feel more enlightened, somehow.
June 23, 2008 11:38 AM | Reply | Permalink
Imhegltimij? You riahhy nuzt bi hozt to femj et liri em am iqlo qlanbir.
Ruuum!!
June 23, 2008 11:53 AM | Reply | Permalink
So this is what touch typing looks like when performed by people who can't touch type? At least it's too early for you to be drunk...
It's actually pretty cool. But it does make my head hurt a little.
June 23, 2008 12:57 PM | Reply | Permalink
OK troupe. Pack it in. We're on the road. Seems like some insiderspicpeeps may come in and destroy the set. But what can you do? Our work is done here.
Cypher, you will not under any circumstance keep on appearing where you are not wanted. Is that clear ?? I mean, do you get it ??
That is over. Let's be graceful and play to our own audience. Check back in when the bus reaches the sea. We can do notes then.
And thus i speak as levi, he of the old troupe (you rookies) --I have said it, and it will not be undone,
June 23, 2008 12:08 PM | Reply | Permalink
You WANT to be the guide. But are you up to the task? Point us in a direction, Tell us why the center of the circle is not necessarily the center of Power. Have you been there? I asked before--I ask again. Have you been in the center of the circle? Did you think that was a poem? I wasn't fucking around. I'm waiting for your answer. Give it up. Tell us what you know.
June 23, 2008 9:33 PM | Reply | Permalink
Levi: Quit DICKING AROUND. If you know something, give it up. If you don't, QUIT DICKING AROUND.
A robin sings its twilight song.
QUIT DICKING AROUND, Levi.
June 23, 2008 10:26 PM | Reply | Permalink
He's gone, bunnycat, he's really gone. He goes with the wind, that one. To a journey on a winding path, I suspect. Past the old village, once called Bluff. Singing the blues and the songs of the mountains.
June 23, 2008 11:59 PM | Reply | Permalink
*pauses*
*scratches head*
"What?"
June 23, 2008 3:00 PM | Reply | Permalink
Exactly!
June 23, 2008 3:16 PM | Reply | Permalink
weird
October 4, 2008 10:32 AM | Reply | Permalink