iraq war diary and murder in los angeles
having a deep autistic spaceout regarding dungen, listening to it all
and feel nervous over assange case
http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/b5852504-f592-11df-99d6-00144feab49a.html#axzz160mKfHFm
the financial times is seeming to do the case more justice with the help of stephens
of finers stephens innocent
http://www.fsilaw.com/
and kudos bjorn hurtig
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704170404575624483280725388.html
as though law were a football game!
pointing out the google bomb, procedural beaches.
oh wikileaks thank you for so much truth!
the murder of civilians:
and feel anxious for barry goldberg. i hope he is okay and happy and i hope for seeing him again, and so much thanks for his total acceptance of me.
the murder this week in LA sits in my veins.
http://www.theatlantic.com/culture/archive/2010/11/the-ronni-chasen-mystery-making-sense-of-the-publicists-murder/66693/
and it reminds me of the many long walks i took all over los angeles, some through beverly hills, in quest for parfum like tom ford's vanilla tobacco which i longed for over the shoulder of stig harder at the good luck bar, dreaming of such total perfection . . .
and then i feel the exact locale of her gunning down, on whittier between wilshire and sunset to be known to me.
and it was november 16 i saw nicky and vikki and cam via skype.
and i think of the horrendous story glen told me of the journalist who woke up drugged and naked in the middle of mulholland drive
in obvious retribution for a scientology expose, which she then dropped.
if anyone wanted to kill me it might be any number of my former bosses, none of whom were so friendly or honest to begin with.
first would be the belgian colonialist slave drivers le pain quotidien who paid out a whopping 569k to deal with their huge labor law violations.
i think dieter and patrick and whoever might do well to have me killed.
but really, i think i'm worth more than that.
i have more damage to do to the infrastructure of lies and racist exploitation.
they are small fries.
and i wont be working for them or their like anytime soon.
i wonder anyone dare be my friend.
but the trouble is, the vegan karmic glow is very magnetic, just like moths to a flame go, into the white light . . .
so in the future
ethicspoint
and other such companies will provide consultancy for legal risk management, PR, and ethics whitewash
and exhaustive overhauls of corruption at every level of a business, hopefully before the devastating litigation or wikileaks-style expose.
now what kind of nihilist will propose such mechanisms, i don't say.
but the lovely murder, in a picaresque setting, in black mercedes, oh so black dahlia . . .
and the premise being an oscar snub.
how is an oscar anything but a huge industrial click of a mouse? how is it worth a human life?
not that human life is worth anything.
see
iraq war diary.
just as the nobel prize deflated itself with its lousy war is peace prize, oscars have less and less meaning these days, when on hollywood and highland steps from the glossy kodak theatre, LAPD beat up homeless men for recycling, i kid you not.
"put down that bottle. that is the property of the state."
and then my friend with epilepsy is hauled in to be deprived of his medication in the slammer for days.
and then jim lafferty at the lawyers guild cleverly passes me some phone numbers, and i realize already how expensive justice is . . .
indignation . . .
la publicist murder on whittier in beverly hills
execution style tuesday
http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE6AI0D320101119
RIP
oscars/nobel prize
value
hits
hit list
10 year delays or twenty
and when your hit comes, be sure there is no stone left unturned
for instance if there were a hit on me, who would it be?
lpq
rrl
lfo
the enemies of the future or the past.
see i never look at peace and justice that way. i always feel like a friend with an ethical point de vue . . .
like i am working for the same team . .
on some karmic level . . .
if it was a creepy boss i got fired, or a creepy teacher who i put on notice, it was for the good of humanity.
it was humanitarianism.
for the future.
cries and whispers
visninger och rop
seriously
thinking of it a lot.
the doctor especially. how he comes into liv ullman's world, and disappears. but somehow the lack of tenderness in her life otherwise leaves him almost a hero. truly.
stieg larsson re: neonazis and the convenient heart attack fib
black dahlia
something i long to say out loud is that i am sure
dungen is the best thing since radiohead, which is not an easy thing to say.
but this, like everything is a matter of preference, surely.
broadband now seeding the iraq war diary
thank qwest who at least resisted NSA spying a little
theo van gogh
think of the american enterprise institute security cover for ayaan hirsi ali
recall october 2009
reading proust and drinking juice and inviting the elliott smith expert into my world, for an illusion of warmth, to find the necessary dismissal
and more than a modicum of verbal abuse
upon the dismissal.
i just can't abide bayer's bad mistake at all.
i was thinking, i'm almost islamic about alcohol these days, as well. i have no use for it. my darkness is so bitter night and day, that i don't see what alcohol could do for me besides nauseate me, destabilize me, when already the earth makes me dizzy.
i can taste vodka with lemon in my mind.
i tried to explain to the lovely women at the islamic festival that hijab is forbidden in my culture, so i am not free.
i am forbidden to take a veil and might be constantly judged based on my appearance here.
braingarbage wants a sister, braintoilet. a sister blog.
finished the art. shipping it out.
writing something loosely thought of as "yellow shadows" or "genexers and their hangers on" roughly more of a novel than my other faux prosepoemy novels.
very amused at the trainspottingness of all things, especially anything pre y2k.
trying not to have a crush on the philosophy nerd boy.
missing my friend called gina from russia who studied paralegal studies with me in los angeles. and remembering the passionate kiss she seized from me on vine near selma. when i spoke to her once of bisexuality she said, "be careful" as though stalin might kill us or send us to siberia for lesbianism.
i should have took that for a yes, and then i wouldn't have been so startled when she covered my face with a profusion of kisses.
the trouble with november 2010 is that i am suddenly in a world of mortal terror for my past and oppressive religiosities and simultaneously re-obsessing on torture and human rights violations . . . such that i feel about as cheerful as death from the seventh seal.
oregon has a way of restoring me and reinvigorating my utter morbidity.
i think it is the lack of smog in my lungs.
when/if i get back to los angeles, the smog will take over and keep me high as a kite and asphixiating, which might be a good thing.
and feel nervous over assange case
http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/b5852504-f592-11df-99d6-00144feab49a.html#axzz160mKfHFm
the financial times is seeming to do the case more justice with the help of stephens
of finers stephens innocent
http://www.fsilaw.com/
and kudos bjorn hurtig
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704170404575624483280725388.html
as though law were a football game!
pointing out the google bomb, procedural beaches.
oh wikileaks thank you for so much truth!
the murder of civilians:
"The reports detail 109,032 deaths in Iraq, comprised of 66,081 'civilians'; 23,984 'enemy' (those labeled as insurgents); 15,196 'host nation' (Iraqi government forces) and 3,771 'friendly' (coalition forces). The majority of the deaths (66,000, over 60%) of these are civilian deaths.That is 31 civilians dying every day during the six year period. "feel anxious for a certain bar in echo park with horrendous eighties mirroring
and feel anxious for barry goldberg. i hope he is okay and happy and i hope for seeing him again, and so much thanks for his total acceptance of me.
the murder this week in LA sits in my veins.
http://www.theatlantic.com/culture/archive/2010/11/the-ronni-chasen-mystery-making-sense-of-the-publicists-murder/66693/
and it reminds me of the many long walks i took all over los angeles, some through beverly hills, in quest for parfum like tom ford's vanilla tobacco which i longed for over the shoulder of stig harder at the good luck bar, dreaming of such total perfection . . .
and then i feel the exact locale of her gunning down, on whittier between wilshire and sunset to be known to me.
and it was november 16 i saw nicky and vikki and cam via skype.
and i think of the horrendous story glen told me of the journalist who woke up drugged and naked in the middle of mulholland drive
in obvious retribution for a scientology expose, which she then dropped.
if anyone wanted to kill me it might be any number of my former bosses, none of whom were so friendly or honest to begin with.
first would be the belgian colonialist slave drivers le pain quotidien who paid out a whopping 569k to deal with their huge labor law violations.
i think dieter and patrick and whoever might do well to have me killed.
but really, i think i'm worth more than that.
i have more damage to do to the infrastructure of lies and racist exploitation.
they are small fries.
and i wont be working for them or their like anytime soon.
i wonder anyone dare be my friend.
but the trouble is, the vegan karmic glow is very magnetic, just like moths to a flame go, into the white light . . .
so in the future
ethicspoint
and other such companies will provide consultancy for legal risk management, PR, and ethics whitewash
and exhaustive overhauls of corruption at every level of a business, hopefully before the devastating litigation or wikileaks-style expose.
now what kind of nihilist will propose such mechanisms, i don't say.
but the lovely murder, in a picaresque setting, in black mercedes, oh so black dahlia . . .
and the premise being an oscar snub.
how is an oscar anything but a huge industrial click of a mouse? how is it worth a human life?
not that human life is worth anything.
see
iraq war diary.
just as the nobel prize deflated itself with its lousy war is peace prize, oscars have less and less meaning these days, when on hollywood and highland steps from the glossy kodak theatre, LAPD beat up homeless men for recycling, i kid you not.
"put down that bottle. that is the property of the state."
and then my friend with epilepsy is hauled in to be deprived of his medication in the slammer for days.
and then jim lafferty at the lawyers guild cleverly passes me some phone numbers, and i realize already how expensive justice is . . .
indignation . . .
la publicist murder on whittier in beverly hills
execution style tuesday
http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE6AI0D320101119
RIP
oscars/nobel prize
value
hits
hit list
10 year delays or twenty
and when your hit comes, be sure there is no stone left unturned
for instance if there were a hit on me, who would it be?
lpq
rrl
lfo
the enemies of the future or the past.
see i never look at peace and justice that way. i always feel like a friend with an ethical point de vue . . .
like i am working for the same team . .
on some karmic level . . .
if it was a creepy boss i got fired, or a creepy teacher who i put on notice, it was for the good of humanity.
it was humanitarianism.
for the future.
cries and whispers
visninger och rop
seriously
thinking of it a lot.
the doctor especially. how he comes into liv ullman's world, and disappears. but somehow the lack of tenderness in her life otherwise leaves him almost a hero. truly.
stieg larsson re: neonazis and the convenient heart attack fib
black dahlia
something i long to say out loud is that i am sure
dungen is the best thing since radiohead, which is not an easy thing to say.
but this, like everything is a matter of preference, surely.
broadband now seeding the iraq war diary
thank qwest who at least resisted NSA spying a little
theo van gogh
think of the american enterprise institute security cover for ayaan hirsi ali
recall october 2009
reading proust and drinking juice and inviting the elliott smith expert into my world, for an illusion of warmth, to find the necessary dismissal
and more than a modicum of verbal abuse
upon the dismissal.
i just can't abide bayer's bad mistake at all.
i was thinking, i'm almost islamic about alcohol these days, as well. i have no use for it. my darkness is so bitter night and day, that i don't see what alcohol could do for me besides nauseate me, destabilize me, when already the earth makes me dizzy.
i can taste vodka with lemon in my mind.
i tried to explain to the lovely women at the islamic festival that hijab is forbidden in my culture, so i am not free.
i am forbidden to take a veil and might be constantly judged based on my appearance here.
braingarbage wants a sister, braintoilet. a sister blog.
finished the art. shipping it out.
writing something loosely thought of as "yellow shadows" or "genexers and their hangers on" roughly more of a novel than my other faux prosepoemy novels.
very amused at the trainspottingness of all things, especially anything pre y2k.
trying not to have a crush on the philosophy nerd boy.
missing my friend called gina from russia who studied paralegal studies with me in los angeles. and remembering the passionate kiss she seized from me on vine near selma. when i spoke to her once of bisexuality she said, "be careful" as though stalin might kill us or send us to siberia for lesbianism.
i should have took that for a yes, and then i wouldn't have been so startled when she covered my face with a profusion of kisses.
the trouble with november 2010 is that i am suddenly in a world of mortal terror for my past and oppressive religiosities and simultaneously re-obsessing on torture and human rights violations . . . such that i feel about as cheerful as death from the seventh seal.
oregon has a way of restoring me and reinvigorating my utter morbidity.
i think it is the lack of smog in my lungs.
when/if i get back to los angeles, the smog will take over and keep me high as a kite and asphixiating, which might be a good thing.
Comments
Post a Comment