boys and girls have been running away together for a long time.
melancholy innocence
they don't know each other, but there's a spark, and they run. and they run and run and the sadness permeates everything. khaki shorts, skirts, t-shirts.
handsome men and gorgeous dolls, falling. spin back around. the sand storm cometh.
separation anxiety
and the whole time it's not fun. no fun. moments of extreme discomfort and moments of most blissful sexual misconduct.
spectral waves
misbehaves. logic like a sage. penetrate the unforgiven lips, part the flower, open the hearts. of. desire.
spiritual bankruptcy
often attended to by lounges and bar tenders. she lays on the bed, naked, half covered by an expensive hotel linen sheet. so expensive. so holy. so barren. so tender. so tender
sensitivity proclivities
hop on the bus. time to go home alone through the pouring rain. take I95 from D.C. to N.YC. windshield wipers, back and forth, squish squish.
from a place of deep sadness,
Anthony
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Friday, June 28, 2013
The Dragon
A mid-sized, friendly dragon walks through the door to my office pod. I call it an office pod because the door opens into a large room with four individual offices and two large spaces for cubicles. I sit in a cubicle. But love has won the day. And the dragon is walking in the door. He coughs and a bit of fire comes out. He is a salesman dragon, and he has come to sell us expensive watches. After trying for a bit, it's clear we're not buying, and he's not really here to sell watches to me and my co-worker Natalie. He's gay. And he wants to party. We're like cool, been playing dance music all day in the office, anyway. So I MOG some Michael Jackson Billie Jean, and Natalie me and the dragon start to boogie. The mid-sized dragon sheds his blue suit coat, white dress shirt and CK plaid tie with golden accents. Underneath is a superman t-shirt. I click on some Rhianna, and the dragon is just in a frenzy, jumping on desks, dancing with loose, short dragon arms flailing about. He torches the ceiling a couple times, and Natalie and I shriek with joy. We can't get enough of his flame-throwing capabilities. We got the new Daft Punk song and the dancing continues to stay wild. During a slowed down part of the song the dragon picks up his clothing and starts trotting, double-stepping towards the door. He screams I LOVE YOU ALL and the wall bursts into diaphanous flames.
justice, equality, love
Anthony
justice, equality, love
Anthony
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Dublin
The scorched earth policy might apply to my mind. Naw. Really it's just love, ambition and chaos in my gut. Wanting things like to be a great writer, to be wealthy beyond all comprehension, to create racial equality, to tour as a rock star (with The Gaslight Anthem opening for me). The american dream. That kind of thing.
If I failed you, it was my fault. I don't deny it. Not with Joyce outside my modern, sliding-glass door window, looking out onto an empty glass mall, barren retail space . To let, to let, to let you back into my heart -- the oceans come for us all -- blurred lines, watching a freshly poured pint of Guinness fall majestically to the bottom. Swept into the misery by song. Swept into the beautiful by melody. I can't think enough for Sancho Panza and his dreaming dreamer. Swept into the gilded gutter by the Irish. Swept into sleep cause it's far past my bedtime back home.
I want to build a family crest that amplifies my emotions. A structural invention. An object of American ingenuity. Sonar, vibrating out in expanding, trembling circles. I want to think of you in this pattern. You are the distance and the closeness between the trembling circles. If love is an object of despair, let the wealthy sweep their yards with Mexican gardeners. I hope, I hope things turn out well in the swell of the belly: Jonah and the Whale. But what if Jonah was the Whale and he grew so big that he swallowed himself and destruction of political fortune cast with golden bows freed us from ourselves and our language. A Slovene philosopher sleeps well tonight in Dublin, knowing something I don't.
With love,
Anthony
She Loves You
water
If I failed you, it was my fault. I don't deny it. Not with Joyce outside my modern, sliding-glass door window, looking out onto an empty glass mall, barren retail space . To let, to let, to let you back into my heart -- the oceans come for us all -- blurred lines, watching a freshly poured pint of Guinness fall majestically to the bottom. Swept into the misery by song. Swept into the beautiful by melody. I can't think enough for Sancho Panza and his dreaming dreamer. Swept into the gilded gutter by the Irish. Swept into sleep cause it's far past my bedtime back home.
I want to build a family crest that amplifies my emotions. A structural invention. An object of American ingenuity. Sonar, vibrating out in expanding, trembling circles. I want to think of you in this pattern. You are the distance and the closeness between the trembling circles. If love is an object of despair, let the wealthy sweep their yards with Mexican gardeners. I hope, I hope things turn out well in the swell of the belly: Jonah and the Whale. But what if Jonah was the Whale and he grew so big that he swallowed himself and destruction of political fortune cast with golden bows freed us from ourselves and our language. A Slovene philosopher sleeps well tonight in Dublin, knowing something I don't.
With love,
Anthony
water
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Zero Dark Thirty and the NEW United States of America
SPOILER ALERT: I DISCUSS IMPORTANT PARTS OF THE MOVIE INCLUDING THE END.
I saw Zero Dark Thirty over the weekend, and it changed my thinking about the United States of America, henceforth, the "US". The movie centers around a female character, Maya. She is a young CIA agent, and she has been obsessively tracking Usama Bin Laden since 9/11/2001. More specifically, she is obsessively following her lead, her theory, in the effort to find Bin Laden. She plays the role with limited emotion, extreme focus, and timely outbursts of rage aimed at her superiors that help her get her way and continue to fund her efforts to capture "UBL". We all know how the story ends. Turns out her theory was right, and she finds Bin Laden, which leads to the team of Navy Seals and their helicopter journey into Pakistan to assassinate Bin Laden.
Maya's character is alone. She has no close friends. No family is shown in the movie. She spends 11 years desperately tracking a man that many thought was dead or gone or simply impossible to find. But in the end, the real deal Usama motherfucking Bin Laden is shot and killed by the best of the best of our US soldiers. What could be a happier ending. Except at the end of the movie, Maya boards a jumbo military plane. She is the only passenger. She sits alone in the pit of the whale, and the friendly pilot comes out to pay her a visit. He says, "you're the only passenger. you must be important." then he asks, "where do you want to go?" She cannot speak. Her face is distressed. She has just accomplished this amazing personal achievement. But the movie ends with a shot of her blank face. She cannot answer the question where she wants to go. In my head, I was thinking she would say "home" or "Washington" or "Hawaii" or somewhere completely disconnected with her life like "Zimbabwe". But the movie ends without her saying anything, looking desperate, lost and alone.
Maya has traveled to so many "countries" (almost always to a US military base or secret outpost of some kind). She has no home. Maya, metaphorically, represents the United States of America. Maya, or the US, has no home because she/it is so spread-out. She's seen so much violence, so much pain. It dawned on me, and forgive me if I'm just slow and it's taken me a while to realize this, but all of these military bases, consulates, secret locations where the US detains and interrogates and tortures captured "enemies", are part of the US. We typically think of the US as the 50 states, the 48 contiguous states, Hawaii and Alaska. But in reality, the US extends to all corners of the globe, including Guantanamo Bay, which is "in" CUBA. We have a military base "in" CUBA. US Citizens can't even travel to Cuba legally. How do you make sense of that? So you say fine, we have a base in Cuba, and in Germany, and in Korea and in Japan. So what? They're just military bases. But what the movie shows is that the US sets up shop wherever it wants: Afghanistan, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Somalia, and all the secret locations in countries around the world. For me, this was an epiphany. The US is not that geographic map we see on google earth. The US is in pockets and spaces across the globe, bringing guns, violence, aid, food, medical care, intelligence officers, tortures/Ph.D.'s, doctors, business men, and apple pie to the globe.
I believe the US Navy's slogan is, "A Global Force for Good". I'm thinking that the United States of America is a global entity. It is no longer just the corn fields in Iowa and the big buildings in Manhattan. It hasn't been for a long time. The US occupies space around the world, and directly shapes the space in and around the areas it occupies. This power, this influence has a fancy name: geopolitical hegemony. Noam Chomsky has been writing about this for decades. I'm sure this is not news to Pentagon Officials, Intellectuals, CIA Agents, the FBI and probably you. But it sure was an epiphany to me. What are the repercussions of this concept of the US? What are our responsibilities? What are the moral questions this situation poses? These are questions for another blog post.
With great heaps of geopolitical love,
Anthony
I saw Zero Dark Thirty over the weekend, and it changed my thinking about the United States of America, henceforth, the "US". The movie centers around a female character, Maya. She is a young CIA agent, and she has been obsessively tracking Usama Bin Laden since 9/11/2001. More specifically, she is obsessively following her lead, her theory, in the effort to find Bin Laden. She plays the role with limited emotion, extreme focus, and timely outbursts of rage aimed at her superiors that help her get her way and continue to fund her efforts to capture "UBL". We all know how the story ends. Turns out her theory was right, and she finds Bin Laden, which leads to the team of Navy Seals and their helicopter journey into Pakistan to assassinate Bin Laden.
Maya's character is alone. She has no close friends. No family is shown in the movie. She spends 11 years desperately tracking a man that many thought was dead or gone or simply impossible to find. But in the end, the real deal Usama motherfucking Bin Laden is shot and killed by the best of the best of our US soldiers. What could be a happier ending. Except at the end of the movie, Maya boards a jumbo military plane. She is the only passenger. She sits alone in the pit of the whale, and the friendly pilot comes out to pay her a visit. He says, "you're the only passenger. you must be important." then he asks, "where do you want to go?" She cannot speak. Her face is distressed. She has just accomplished this amazing personal achievement. But the movie ends with a shot of her blank face. She cannot answer the question where she wants to go. In my head, I was thinking she would say "home" or "Washington" or "Hawaii" or somewhere completely disconnected with her life like "Zimbabwe". But the movie ends without her saying anything, looking desperate, lost and alone.
Maya has traveled to so many "countries" (almost always to a US military base or secret outpost of some kind). She has no home. Maya, metaphorically, represents the United States of America. Maya, or the US, has no home because she/it is so spread-out. She's seen so much violence, so much pain. It dawned on me, and forgive me if I'm just slow and it's taken me a while to realize this, but all of these military bases, consulates, secret locations where the US detains and interrogates and tortures captured "enemies", are part of the US. We typically think of the US as the 50 states, the 48 contiguous states, Hawaii and Alaska. But in reality, the US extends to all corners of the globe, including Guantanamo Bay, which is "in" CUBA. We have a military base "in" CUBA. US Citizens can't even travel to Cuba legally. How do you make sense of that? So you say fine, we have a base in Cuba, and in Germany, and in Korea and in Japan. So what? They're just military bases. But what the movie shows is that the US sets up shop wherever it wants: Afghanistan, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Somalia, and all the secret locations in countries around the world. For me, this was an epiphany. The US is not that geographic map we see on google earth. The US is in pockets and spaces across the globe, bringing guns, violence, aid, food, medical care, intelligence officers, tortures/Ph.D.'s, doctors, business men, and apple pie to the globe.
I believe the US Navy's slogan is, "A Global Force for Good". I'm thinking that the United States of America is a global entity. It is no longer just the corn fields in Iowa and the big buildings in Manhattan. It hasn't been for a long time. The US occupies space around the world, and directly shapes the space in and around the areas it occupies. This power, this influence has a fancy name: geopolitical hegemony. Noam Chomsky has been writing about this for decades. I'm sure this is not news to Pentagon Officials, Intellectuals, CIA Agents, the FBI and probably you. But it sure was an epiphany to me. What are the repercussions of this concept of the US? What are our responsibilities? What are the moral questions this situation poses? These are questions for another blog post.
With great heaps of geopolitical love,
Anthony
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
so lonely! without you!
unrelated discourse/present moment life check in: I love you. I love you. I love you. Gosh, I just love you. Sweet berries and cacophony and simplicity and plasticity and slippery when wet, Rhett Butler -- pirates of the uninteresting man, boy, child, black, business man. Stick it to the man. In the asshole. yup. once again you've come to a page that features music! I love you! I love you! I love you! Jesus loves you, so does Buddha too! and the atheist gargoyle children falling from buildings in tall Tokyo where swimming pools are always on top.
with sexual healing and peeling and feeling,
Anthony
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
monolith
60660135/57817973
a giant brick building, only bricks, no windows, floating. you see the sky around the brick building and i see your eyes. i see the tears and they come easily because this process is endless and the sanity and sanctity of marriage are all spread out like wonderbread and the world is full of "nigger and monkey"* and i'm supposed to be happy.
i'm happy working on my happiness project, the project(')s helping me feel happy of violence and peace and freedom and empty wastelands and watershed moments in the simplicity of time and space. einstein and beaches and fortunes wasted. lost. perished. fortunate to have lost everything and left on that island, the one on the cd, that island all alone with a coconut.
black president does not equal the end of racism. sickness, hate, full of greasy American french fries. go bowling. watch the Golden State Warriors. Listen to KATY PERRY. fireshoot. home purchase. ouches and slouches and couches, what couches? how will the couches? where is the income? run? my job! run! fortunate to love in the time of yoga and obama** fortunate to love in the time of robotics and art.
splice jeans, make a scene. the path is endless and my family is just the beginning. HOPE. PRAY. LOVE and shit on books.
303/203
the brick building is all brick, floating. you see the sky behind and around the building. you see COULDS. fortune runs away with your sister in law, catch her cat. bounce bounce bounce.
"Fuck All Y'All."*** register the sadness that is underneath the hate? where is this lion of Judah or the parents of Eli. you take your prophecy to the bank and awake with a letter in the mail. ah for the days of letters in the mail until you get one more than one too many and you just begin to automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters (i'm using copy and paste), automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters (it's easy).
stretch. don't be fat. play guitar. be rock star. hold yourself accountable on the lynching rope. neck snaps and America goes down further than you think into brown earth and Costa Rican volcanoes. you can see and cuban cigars and HOPE and the smoke. but i'm all about the repetition, soak your dog in the warm bath of youth and watch him grow old and sad and cry but the ducts are dry. next world war over water.what of the youth and van jones. do we fight or do we compromise. is there any next generation. is there a surface that isn't owned by microsoft. micro soft. soft micro. soft microwaves, waves of prophecy is the name of my new band, my new song, my new book, my new movement. my new movement is for sale.
55/45
the red brick building with no windows is floating. it is made up bricks, the red people and the blue people, but it is a red brick building. it is all of us. monolith. it is crumbling, breaking apart splitting down the middle. shocked what is coming out?! jesus, could it be god or irony or Mitt fucking Romney! could it be Mitt in person! could it be the great uniter?!!! 3514385-32948579384057198475-974303529348571-94587102945871-923-4857023948571092457-148570193485720935478 that is your license to use the soft microwaves to read the solution to the binary struggle. black vs. white over easy.
jump the gun. the brick building is still falling apart and the love, i can't find the love, of the brick building. monolith. falling apart, and in the falling apart and breaking, the pieces of brick are you and I and we are one nation under god, or maybe above god, definitely over god. the solutions! there are now 20 women senators!!! rejoice!!!! but don't jump the gun in haste. hate has no place here. the monolith is terrifying! are we not one! where are we! 12341234123412341234123412341234123412341234123412341234 i typed those myself.
with a profound happiness to be back in the saddle,
Anthony
*idea sadly belongs to thousands of twitter posts just after President Barack Obama was re-elected
**idea belongs to Alex Gideon
***idea belongs to Tupac
Ben Howard "Old Pine"
a giant brick building, only bricks, no windows, floating. you see the sky around the brick building and i see your eyes. i see the tears and they come easily because this process is endless and the sanity and sanctity of marriage are all spread out like wonderbread and the world is full of "nigger and monkey"* and i'm supposed to be happy.
i'm happy working on my happiness project, the project(')s helping me feel happy of violence and peace and freedom and empty wastelands and watershed moments in the simplicity of time and space. einstein and beaches and fortunes wasted. lost. perished. fortunate to have lost everything and left on that island, the one on the cd, that island all alone with a coconut.
black president does not equal the end of racism. sickness, hate, full of greasy American french fries. go bowling. watch the Golden State Warriors. Listen to KATY PERRY. fireshoot. home purchase. ouches and slouches and couches, what couches? how will the couches? where is the income? run? my job! run! fortunate to love in the time of yoga and obama** fortunate to love in the time of robotics and art.
splice jeans, make a scene. the path is endless and my family is just the beginning. HOPE. PRAY. LOVE and shit on books.
303/203
the brick building is all brick, floating. you see the sky behind and around the building. you see COULDS. fortune runs away with your sister in law, catch her cat. bounce bounce bounce.
"Fuck All Y'All."*** register the sadness that is underneath the hate? where is this lion of Judah or the parents of Eli. you take your prophecy to the bank and awake with a letter in the mail. ah for the days of letters in the mail until you get one more than one too many and you just begin to automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters (i'm using copy and paste), automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters, automatically recycle the letters (it's easy).
stretch. don't be fat. play guitar. be rock star. hold yourself accountable on the lynching rope. neck snaps and America goes down further than you think into brown earth and Costa Rican volcanoes. you can see and cuban cigars and HOPE and the smoke. but i'm all about the repetition, soak your dog in the warm bath of youth and watch him grow old and sad and cry but the ducts are dry. next world war over water.what of the youth and van jones. do we fight or do we compromise. is there any next generation. is there a surface that isn't owned by microsoft. micro soft. soft micro. soft microwaves, waves of prophecy is the name of my new band, my new song, my new book, my new movement. my new movement is for sale.
55/45
the red brick building with no windows is floating. it is made up bricks, the red people and the blue people, but it is a red brick building. it is all of us. monolith. it is crumbling, breaking apart splitting down the middle. shocked what is coming out?! jesus, could it be god or irony or Mitt fucking Romney! could it be Mitt in person! could it be the great uniter?!!! 3514385-32948579384057198475-974303529348571-94587102945871-923-4857023948571092457-148570193485720935478 that is your license to use the soft microwaves to read the solution to the binary struggle. black vs. white over easy.
jump the gun. the brick building is still falling apart and the love, i can't find the love, of the brick building. monolith. falling apart, and in the falling apart and breaking, the pieces of brick are you and I and we are one nation under god, or maybe above god, definitely over god. the solutions! there are now 20 women senators!!! rejoice!!!! but don't jump the gun in haste. hate has no place here. the monolith is terrifying! are we not one! where are we! 12341234123412341234123412341234123412341234123412341234 i typed those myself.
with a profound happiness to be back in the saddle,
Anthony
*idea sadly belongs to thousands of twitter posts just after President Barack Obama was re-elected
**idea belongs to Alex Gideon
***idea belongs to Tupac
Ben Howard "Old Pine"
Friday, August 3, 2012
on leave
With a wedding and honeymoon coming up, I'm not going to be posting for a while, at least not on regular basis. We'll see what's what come November.
with love,
Anthony
with love,
Anthony
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