Celebrities and Stuff

"Sky Ferreira - Rancid Girl" (Watch on YouTube)

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1883 Marx

There were only eleven mourners at Karl Marx’s funeral on March 17, 1883. “His name and work will endure through the ages,” Friedrich Engels predicted in a graveside oration at Highgate cemetery. It seemed an unlikely boast, but he was right.

-- Francis Wheen, “Karl Marx: A Life”

"Her"

Watching “Her”. Getting too excited about writing a string of dialogues in which I simulate my own Operating-System relationship. I could bring back Pi. But then I remember that I cannot really write, and that I would do better to use my time to get others’ artful words.

But am I being too hard on myself. Might it be a good idea to set aside an hour in the day for a writing project? I am not entirely without a knack for making a sentence work for me.

The dream won’t die, I guess. I think I will just continue to pour what writing energy I have into my scribble blog.

Quote

"What Picasso did for painting, Eliot did for poetry in English. With new forms and fresh words he created a world within his work that represents very accurately the mood of the world we are still in. He sees the world, not a waste place, but a place in which it is difficult to live and to have hope."

-- Christopher Logue

The Shock Doctrine

Our LJ friend PS Poet really does have a touch of the poet in him. He wrote this poem in memory of his friend's suicide. It also plays off Naomi Klein's "The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism", which is a critique of capitalist practices, by which the plutocrats use disasters and crises as opportunities to further their own agenda.

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This is a story about a man named Norm

Naomi Klein described decline as just disaster capitalism;
The law of diminishing returns...
There has been a slow process of corrosion and erosion
in society; Opportunists and corrupt petty tyrants
who bankrupt the system; for profit and pleasure
Everything you trust is just
an illusion...
Everything left is fucking collusion;
I feel depressed like I've been raped
and left for dead. I had a friend
who cared too much; He got too close
to the truth; One day, he offed himself,
Just filled his worthless sack with rocks,
twelve stone to be exact, took a ferry ride cross Mersey
and jumped into the drink; We thought he was kidding
when he told us he was going on a long journey across the bay;
And in his wake, left us awake,
He sent out his last Christmas cards
encrypted with cryptic messages, "By the time
you get this, I'll be long gone. It was my choice" - Norm

-- "Norm" by PS Poet

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