I Want to Be a Beast
October 24, 2008
“footage from roller boogie— music by of Montreal”
of Montreal — Gallery Piece:
3 Comments
Comments are closed.
in the dirt since history began
-
"We have no words to waste on you. When you reach out your vaunted strong hands for our palaces and purpled ease, we will show you what strength is. In roar of shell and shrapnel and in whine of machine-guns will our answer be couched. We will grind you revolutionists down under our heel, and we shall walk upon your faces. The world is ours, we are its lords, and ours it shall remain. As for the host of labor, it has been in the dirt since history began, and I read history aright. And in the dirt it shall remain so long as I and mine and those that come after us have the power. There is the word. It is the king of words—Power. Not God, not Mammon, but Power. Pour it over your tongue till it tingles with it. Power."
MAIL:
stumplane "at" gmail "dot" com Recent Comments
Mistah Charley on The Death of Liberty davidly on The Death of Liberty Jeff T. on The Death of Liberty cnihilist on She Kidnapped HERself Hamas Abedin on She Kidnapped HERself 
Jacob Bacharach- I Blame the Patriarchy
- An error has occurred; the feed is probably down. Try again later.
- BLKDGRD
- one poem that had been over for centuries spelled wrong
- The Sedate One Is This Month's Skittish One
- “He’s dead,” he said. “No, he’s not. I just saw him move his arm,” I said. He removed his pistol from his holster and fired a shot. “Now he’s dead,” he said, or: Born Eighty-Two Years Ago Today
- The Recital of the New Optimism Was Oft Interrupted, Rudeness in the Ramparts, an Injured Raven That Needed Attendance, Pre-Op Nudity
- So Is Your Judgement Shown Presumptuous, False, Quite Vain, Merely Your Own Sadness for Failed Ambition Set Outside, Made a Philosophy of, Prinked, Beautified in Noble Dress and into the World Sent Out to Run with the Ill It Most Pretends to Rout
- Forgetfulness That Seeps into Our Outline Defining Our Volumes w/a Stain
- The Poet Is a Radio. The Poet Is a Liar. The Poet Is a Counterpunching Liar
- Trees Outside the Window and a Big Band Sound That Makes You Feel Like Everything's Okay, a Feeling That Lasts For One Song Maybe, the Parentheses All Clicking Shut Behind You
- I Must Concentrate on How Disappointing It All Has to Be While Rejoicing in My Singular Un-wholeness That Keeps It an Event for Me
- falling into a set of holes whose structures are predictable, ideological, and long dug, often falling into this set of structural and impersonal holes
- The Crow’s Eye
- eye of the storm
- An error has occurred; the feed is probably down. Try again later.
- ladypoverty
- False Dichotomy
- FAIR is once again unfair to the Syrian people
- The criminalization of poverty
- The market finds a way to make the job search more terrible
- On the killing of Ezell Ford and the impotence of civilian review boards
- Protests and prisons
- A review of 'Syrian Notebooks'
- From Argentina to Iraq: I have an opinion
- Hillary the Hawk
- What six weeks at Vice looks like
- Netanyahu, Sisi and Assad: Peas in a pod
- Once Upon A Time…
- Stop Me Before I Vote Again
- Dennis Perrin
- Guys From Area 51
- An error has occurred; the feed is probably down. Try again later.
- Fafblog!
Stump Lane 
Kinda, sorta similar. Ok not. New York Dolls and Evolution: Dance like a Monkey…
pretty cool. thanks for that, MR. Bill!
“We must gather the crumbs of amusement as they fall from Life’s table..”