we all know crap is king…
Saturday, August 5th, 2006…and don henley should know, being in the eagles.
…and don henley should know, being in the eagles.
were it not distasteful enough that mainstream media regularly and flippantly invoke the specter of nazi germany for fun and profit, but to use a mad-lib-like organizational structure to deconstruct is utterly loathsome. take for instance the following recently articulated absurdity :
“see, when you take a little bit of truth and then you mix it [...]
a culture of violence? the united states? certainly not! state sponsored execution, militarized political expression, pro-life murders, the sport of classmate killing and the rampant popularity of the police procedural cannot be used as evidence of a society obsessed with the infliction of abuse…no look to it’s idioms before condemning a civilization. only a culture [...]
“there’s a place down there where the heads are square”
ah, the mess that is texas. when the lone star state is thought of, clearly at the forefront of that thought is retardation; the state of the union is strong as long as texas is executing and electing retards. if, as gunny sargent hartman duly noted, [...]
is it to be believed that professor henry higgins has somehow transformed eliza blink-182 into a respectable musician? hardly…so who spiked delonge’s snapple? hasn’t anybody fessed up yet and let him know, “dude, it’s not you, it’s the drugs?” what else can account for the following grandiosity regarding his angels and airwaves:
“[i'm] preparing the [...]
“well the southside of chicago
is the baddest part of town
and if you go down there
you better just beware
of a man named…”
old rasputin.
amidst the mad cabaret of divertissement that is the media saturated world erupted a ponderous sound of aspersions and aberrations, madness and machinations, unsoundness and sonance. the birth of nuova europa, midwifed by an eno, covered by a lillywhite caul, flood suckled and anointed with lanois, ushered a sonic examination of retrospection and hedonism, vacancy [...]
“who’s gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin?”
there is aural pleasure in viewing a martian transition. witness 21st century american ingenuity!
as conceived by a proulx, mid-century country gay in america was hard? begging the question aside, so where and when along the space-time continuum does the homosexual utopia exist? then and there is the challenging setting for a work of gay fantasia.