Tuesday, September 30, 2008

I don’t spend nearly enough time with my Dad. Whenever we’re together it seems it's always circumstance that brings us there, dinner, a car ride somewhere…

We choose to meet each other this time for no real reason, aside from proximity maybe. We sat cross legged amidst a book fair and watched people as they lined up for jerk chicken. I think the empty nest is getting to him.

So he didn't mind waiting.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

So there’s been a real rush lately on Federal Candidates resigning over blog posts or inappropriate behavior.

Although I’d never fancied running for office I think it would be fun to have resign in disgrace over some of the stuff that’s been said on here. C’mon, loving prostitutes is charitable, talking to monsters is endearing!

Imagine the press conference and the awkward questions. They’ll be so rich after breaking this story that they’ll all be taking golden showers!

Monday, September 22, 2008

Losing is easy

I should write this down before I forget. Grass in Australia is flat and broad, sort of like little leaves poking up towards the hole in the ozone layer. I sat on it once, speaking Spanish then listening Portuguese, there was a lot of blushing and gesticulation. My head was swollen from that sign post I hit the night before; we were waiting for something, maybe for Meghan to get off work. She had a three month stint at a bar in the arcade. We waited in Veterans’ Park by the pedestrian scramble and the long line of old and twisted trees. Not sure what they were called. Later Danni would have an allergic reaction to aspirin by one. Maps in Sydney didn’t work; I had a room and it as over that hill, that’s all I knew. Took a bus once, and would never again, Bondi beach was great, nude surfing and cops in thongs, but that walk back through Kings Cross was terrible. Not terrible, just long, even without our delays trying to haggle a few Victoria Bitters from a tranny. Never take a bus.


Friday, September 19, 2008

It's name was Smokey, but I knew it as Tamas

Going door to door last night I ran into a woman who owned a Hungarian sheep dog called a pulli. I grew up around these very unusual dogs because my grandparents used to breed them, and sure enough after a few more questions it came out that she had bought it from them.

It was weird to stand in that doorway staring down at perhaps one of the few surviving dogs that my grandmother had raised. It was 12 years old and it had out lasted her, it had outlasted my memory of her. It took a while for her name to come back to me, but it felt nice when it did.

It was the last thing she put her hand to, fighting Nazi’s, fighting Commies, raising children, immigrating, building a business and then this, this floppy little dog. Far from home and it too dying, happily.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

The Suffering

The current market situation gives way to the prime conditions for a zombie attack. Slowly a gulf emerges between haves and have nots. People witness the suffering of their neighbors but aren’t compelled by the human condition to come to their assistance because they have yet to feel the looming repercussions of the global collapse for themelves. Insulated and preoccupied by the fact that they still have a job to loose a family to die a sports team to tear the flesh from their teammates bones; they are impervious to those who have already lost all theirs.

The insular mindset that clouds your brain, the tenseness that stiffens your muscles; all indistinguishable to the undiscerning pallet of the undead. Ignoring your frail and feeble friends as if they are already dead and gone is a bad strategy. You’ll become reacquainted soon.

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Tuesday, September 16, 2008

I'm feeling directionless, but thats to be expected

Last night I and a couple of friends hit a pub and as we chatted I wondered if I would remember the night for years to come because this was the day the market crashed?

The booze made them look like flash animation cardboard cut outs moving smoothly over an unfocused background. The conversation around us sounded almost musical and the table stunk of beer soaked rotten wood.

I thought is this what 1929 in slow motion looked like? We kept our Tommy guns out of sight and raised our Tom Collins and Mint Julips and toasted to the end of the world. A 500 point fall left me wondering if it was time to sharpen our straight razors and run a warm bath; no one else seemed to be concerned. Although I did get a frantic PIN earlier in the day saying there hasn’t been a worse day in the markets during our lifetime.

What did we talk about again? My friend just bought a house, that’s probably gonna suck. We laughed and I wondered if my internet would be working when I got home, would it tomorrow?

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

So finally I’ve finished my flagship piece for the industry magazine. It’s going to be the cover story too. Feel pretty cool about that. I have to go get a glamour shot so they can include my pic in the byline, ah vanity. I got 1800 words of pure genius plus some kick as photo’s from google images!

I wonder if they’ll run it through turnitin.com?

Monday, September 08, 2008

Encircle me, i need to be taken down

Perhaps it’s cruel that only now does my mind recall the soft pastels and flowing linens of my room in the south of France. Come for the weekend, I’ve got a whole jug of petrol, we could probably make it all the way to Amalfi. We could eat oranges in dusty pool halls until it cools off enough to go down the cliffs to sit on the rocks and watch the waves.

Then we can suck salty clams from shells and wash it down with the wrong bottle of wine and laugh the metallic taste out of our mouths. We could watch the lights come on by the nativity scene then scope out the wait staff leaving the seaside resort. We could listen as the concerto is drowned out the din of more families appearing in the square and finally, we could wander back to our hostel bare foot. I’ve never liked flips flops and these cobble stone streets aren’t made for heels.

Man I hope my boss in't watching me right now. 35 days to go…

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Friday, September 05, 2008

When I get a little scared...

I’ve started listening to Tom Waits a lot recently. I’m really into the imagery that’s very unique to him. So much different than popular music where the imagery is just of other pop culture. He talks about chopping down trees and his drunk piano. They talk about how love is like a Fendi purse…stuffed in your vagina!

I wonder how I speak, if my words betray me. I use funny words like a fish out of water. Do you get the sense that I’m serious when I’m say I’m crushing on you? No? What about when I’m curled up on your parents’ driveway clutching the beer i snuck out of the club? What about then?

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Don't let me live a life before my life flies by

In the year 799 AD Pope Leo the III fleeing his enemies in Rome took refuge with Charlemagne. Along the way his friend and trusted confidant St. Liborius was injured and died. The Pope laid him to rest at the site of a spring and eventually a cathedral was built and a town sprung up named Paderborn. Not far was a town named Lemgo which served as a trade stop for merchants of the Hanseatic League who were a medieval trading association of free cities in northern Europe.

Directly between these two locations was the site of a hard fought battle where in 9 AD the Cherusci war chief Arminius defeated the Roman legions and drove them from Germany and is ultimately credited as the beginning of the slow decline of Rome’s power in Northern Europe. Centuries later the event was used to stir up anti-Napoleonic sentiment and deep in the Teutoburg Forrest now stands a giant statue commemorating this decisive victory. In that blood soaked clearing among that dense forest the Hermannsdenkmal was erected by Bismark to rally a newly unified Germany around ancient triumph.

Down a small path just a few miles from the site is the Hochschule für Musik Detmold. And just out side that small town was Holtzhausen, a small barn with an apartment loft converted above a horse stable where the rent was just cheap enough for the a Hungarian bartender and his young wife who was studying opera to afford. It was there that I was born.

I googled it for the first time today.

Monday, September 01, 2008

Listeria is no laughing matter it seems. After 48 hours of the greatest diet ever I'm only now starting to clear my head. Staring up at the ceiling I imagined that giant pheonix swaying like the one above Alexandre the Great when he died. It was always moving and I could never tell which way the horizon was.

I gave my girlfriend my last wishes and sang "give my love to rose" by Johnny Cash which allowed me to instruct her to move on after I was gone without actually saying so.

Its just so sad that I will forever be a stranger to my son :-(

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