What to do with this stuff?

So I'm sitting on a 175 page book of poetry and starting another poem which is now up to 140 or so lines, but what to do with this stuff?  I consider this stuff to be unique, but ......

Also, I have completed the lyrics to my Musical, "Prozac Nation - the Musical", but am uncertain where to go with this.  I do need to finish the dialog and then that will give me two finished works.

I guess the thing to do is post them here or print them up at Staples.  There's the whole e-publishing thing, but this all seems too entrepreneurial to me. 

So, what a quandary! 

Surf Music

Having listened to all available surf music I could reasonably allow myself, both in the sixties and during the subsequent revivals, I have to stop and bark out my opinions.




The 3 top documents of Surf Music I believe are:

Surf Music: the Hits Surf Music: the Instrumentals

Endless Summer Ventures Play the Greatest Surfing Hits of All TimeWorld's Greatest Surf CD

The Ventures CD ranks number one with me. It was recorded in the 80s, masterfully, by the real originators of the sound: 4 guys who never strayed much from their roots. This thing rocks and I listen to it QUITE OFTEN, I must say.

Dick Dale never did it for me, but some might consider him King of the Surf Guitar. 

Also, there's the Cowabunga! Surf Box for all of the surf music you ever want to listen to.  I'm not too keen on this.

http://www.sundazed.com/ has a bunch of really great surf cd reissues as well

You could argue for Disk 1 of the Beach Boys box set, Good Vibrations - that's all surf music in there. A better bet is their second album, Surfin USA, a real good one.

You Can Lead An Old Dog to Water But You Can't Trick Her Into Drinking, Even If She is Dying of Thirst

The title says it all, although somewhat adage-challengedly. Mixed metaphorically (not really metaphors)

The hardest thing to do is know yourself, apparently.  (Didn't Robbie Burns have something on this?)

Someone I know is "highly invested" in the pretense that "Nothing has changed".  However, don't we all know the other adage "The only thing constant is change"? 

"Just act like nothing has happened. Ignore the 800 pound gorilla / man behind the screen / obvious." No matter what.

I suppose we are all guilty of vanity and pretending that "EVERYTHING IS FINE!!!!!!!!" but this case of which I speak is ridiculous.

For my pains in pointing out the obvious, I get scorn and ridicule and other people get plastered in the wake of unprincipled anger and spite.  Doing the right thing is seldom any fun.

Philosophy for Yin Yangers

Philosophy Today, Inc

Noted philosopher, Tironius N Firnbaxter XIV, pictured above has informed us that "sometimes, on rare occasions, Black is White, but that White is never Black".  Although this seems counter-intuitive to me, as white must needs be black in the absence of light, far be it to me to question thinking from this level of intelligence.
Firnbaxter has said that "At its semantic and ontological core, Black is nothing more than White, with the 'whiteness' set to negative".  One has to wonder about this, the walrus said.  It is reasonable to bugger the semantics of a thing to get it to be something else, but its first cause is usually unquestioned.  What, does Black start out White, then graduate on up to Black?
More on this to follow.

July 11, 2012

"Sitting Through Chairdom - a Map Thereto"

drive down 50th to the Parkland turnoff and turn-around. Turn around and head off at a 135 degree angle back to the Southeast into Circle 5B9.  drive carefully through Tully Tom's Atom Burger underpass pick-up lane pausing to spin the plastic spindle turnstile as you gradually drive up the ramp onto Bas Montre Boulevard and past the old Cheese Waffie factory.

there, you will have come to Chairdom.  Caution, when you exit your airmobile and are "sitting through chairdom" do not riffle the pincushions as the inhabitants of Chairdom are quite sensitive to faux pas like this

Thanks

Runts On The Beach

Where is the Cow? And Where is the Pig?
Where do you go when you're digging your dig?
What is the sky and what is the sand?
What makes me stay in Popsicle Land?

Oh Oh The Runts on the Beach are killing the clams!
Oh the Runts on the Beach better head for dry land!

Today's Lunch Poem is Going to

You Can't Like This Anymore

under thinking the obvious can be ambidextrous
the life of which panders to the unambitious
arrogantly the flowing life of which unrolled
around and around the cushioning cloud cover

never flung possible anteater man challenging
cosmic overload trash machines in France
can a man come into the woods in a boat?
can an electric semblance of reality reverberate?

a picture of a truck painted on a cigarette
where rain signifies elasticity of majesty
if orange strips of paper flip and flap, flop
and caustic pan-fried basketballs dribble

pink clouds darken, sun-stricken skies flying
streaks purple orange black and gray
and hammers fly, tragically at the end of day
in a dwindling stream the feet are throbbing

naive at best, confusing and dry, but swinging
make an emotional commitment to sacasm
while the continuous check is discontinued
and the international job listings riffle listlessly

guess about it for awhile while trinkets snowfall
clamps close about the checkering tweed hats
and furious at life the windows spenify
until every monstrous fountain dwindles

Thank You