“So soon as I got home after I’d fed the hungry dog, the hungry cat and the hungry me, I started sucking on a piece of raw garlic which made it a bit better for a while. I had a few things I had to do online, apply for a job and apply for a benefit so I got the laptop out and looked for some music to play; I’d downloaded the three I to I tracks by Music with my insane friend, recommended by Out To Lunch on Facebook.”
Category: Blog
JUST ANOTHER RUPTURE AMID PARENTHESES (NOWHERE)
Everything does seem to fail, doesn’t it. Things pop up then disappear. Some look promising but kind of go nowhere. Nowhere seems to be the destination of so many things. One could try to list them all but why bother. Where’s that gonna get us? Probably nowhere.
Occupy this, start that, infiltrate those, radicalise them, confront that discourse, write about this, think through that, debate them, discuss this. This idea, that idea. Yep, on and on and on and on. Nowhere bound.
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BAN THE HOODY?
What else?
Ban RayBans?
Ban excessive make up and coloured contact lenses.
Ban stooped hats.
Ban tinted windows.
Ban curtains.
Everyone line up naked each morning on your front lawn: “Inspections!”
Ban the government?
SOMETIMES THINGS ARE KINDA FUN TO DO.
THE BLACK FLAG
BECAUSE
By Peter Lach-Newinsky
[The annual Anzac Day ritual coming up soon here in Australia, so a poem in memoriam of two child victims of Australian soldiers in Afghanistan. Howard, Rudd and Gillard were the three Australian Prime Ministers in office during the Afghanistan intervention. ANZUS stands for the Australian/New Zealand/US alliance or treaty. Photo from AFP relating to other victims and a father’s grief.]
Because
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MARX, AS USUAL
[A poem of Peter Lach-Newinsky’s from an unpublished suite of poems on great philosophers called I Love Sophie.]
Marx, As Usual
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WHAT DO YOU RECKON?
Should I move all the bullshit below to the trash or does it belong fairly in that depressing repository (or is that suppository?) called the blogosphere?
My insane friend?
BULLSHIT
The blogosphere could so easily just lead one into a black hole of total fucking bullshit!
Spend your life in there trying to find a fucking flashlight. And when you do I bet ya it hasn’t got any fucking batteries!
POETRY OF REVOLUTION
“The revolution for the good society is not just about bread and survival, but also about roses and life, about putting back the poetry into the daily life of all. A liberated society is also one that will find much space and time for cultural celebration and carnival, for honouring the inevitable surprises, risks, ironies, ambivalences and contingencies of the Trickster in all human life and institutions.” (Peter Lach Newinsky, the bard of Bundanoon and IOPS)