the long flop

adamiss:

Some call me lazy. I prefer to think of myself as a conservationist. I love the land, I make sacrifices. Judge not, my friends.
(via woodlandcreature)

I just enjoy peeing in the shower for its own sake.

Some call me lazy. I prefer to think of myself as a conservationist. I love the land, I make sacrifices. Judge not, my friends.

(via woodlandcreature)

I just enjoy peeing in the shower for its own sake.

November 17

“ Quality doesn’t mean deep blacks and whatever tonal range. That’s not quality, that’s a kind of quality. The pictures of Robert Frank might strike someone as being sloppy—the tone range isn’t right and things like that—but they’re far superior to the pictures of Ansel Adams with regard to quality, because the quality of Ansel Adams, if I may say so, is essentially the quality of a postcard. But the quality of Robert Frank is a quality that has something to do with what he’s doing, what his mind is. It’s not balancing out the sky to the sand and so forth. It’s got to do with intention. Elliott Erwitt (via alexjdsmith - thanks for posting this)

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via www.foreignpolicy.com

October 26

back to the machine gun

I awaken about noon and go out to get the mail
in my old torn bathrobe.
I’m hung over
hair down in my eyes
barefoot
gingerly walking on the small sharp rocks
in my path
still afraid of pain behind my four-day beard.

the young housewife next door shakes a rug
out of her window and sees me:
“hello, Hank!”

god damn! it’s almost like being shot in the ass
with a .22

“hello,” I say
gathering up my Visa card bill, my Pennysaver coupons,
a Dept. of Water and Power past-due notice,
a letter from the mortgage people
plus a demand from the Weed Abatement Department
giving me 30 days to clean up my act.

I mince back again over the small sharp rocks
thinking, maybe I’d better write something tonight,
they all seem
to be closing in.

there’s only one way to handle those motherfuckers.

the night harness races will have to wait.

Charles Bukowski

finished reading Women this morning. Not an easy book, to like or read. It’s a slog through most of it’s 300-odd pages of repetitive short, failed occasionally brutal encounters and liaisons. But every now and again you get a paragraph or two that punch jabs you in the face and slaps you back into an alert, heightened state of awareness. Which is what good literature should do, no? Wake you up and slap you around. By the end of the book I was convinced. Bukowski is/was a monumental talent.

October 20

(via kottke.org)

good chart, good comments

September 14

It’s a funny thing ramadan.

July 27

Bung Tomo, hero of the Indonesian revolution.

“Hey Britain, as long as the wild ox, the youth of Indonesia, still have red blood that can make a white cloth red and white… as long as that we will not surrender. Friends, fellow fighters… especially the youth of Indonesia, we will fight on, will will expel the colonialists from our Indonesian land that we love… Long have we suffered, been exploited, trampled on. Now is the time for us to seize our independence. Our slogan: FREEDOM OR DEATH. GOD IS GREAT… GOD IS GREAT… GOD IS GREAT.. FREEDOM!” Bung Tomo’s radio speech, 9 November 1945.^[2]

July 6

Holy hell, what a plane. Jesus, I don’t think you can even call it a plane. It’s like a spaceship crossed with an ocean liner crossed with a zeppelin. Flying in this thing isn’t real. We had perfect seats, just in front of the enormous wing on the port side. The windows are vast, the views panoramic. Sunrise over Thailand was a wonder.

July 4

Crumbs...

I’m moving to Indonesia tomorrow. How the hell did that happen so quickly?

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woody:

(via moosegarden)

Human rights abuses seem to also be quitely put behind you when you die on the cusp of your comeback tour. Just saying.

hee hee