| Frêsh Fish |
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Archive Mea Culpa. The above Archive Link & the Search This Blog Link do not work. This happened after Google, the king of search, bought Blogger?
Frêsh Fish - Much magic for a little fish.
Frêsh Fish is a combination of new and spirited with the added bonus being that everyone knows that fish is best fresh. The icing on the cake was that my mother’s mother, Lena, always told her and she me, that fish was brain food. So with Frêsh Fish we have spirited and new food for thought, ideas, that ain’t got no stink. I was suppose to eat fish today and did not. I hope I can be forgiven.
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Monday, April 28, 2003
Poe's Raven is 17 stanzas long, a long poem. But the whole time he stirs the caldron, a glimpse of the divine. Poe is like the energizer bunny, he goes on and on and on. Obviously he was casting spells and just a tad excited. To whom or what we will never know. Or perhaps he was possessed. And then we must ascertain if there is a difference, spells or possessed?. To most we have - Ah, distinctly I remember But is that enough? And of course the answer is no. Poe went much, much, further that that. Bless his heart he went so far without the aid of a computer. Imagine?!? Let us do the last. Let us do the 17th. Let us be thankful. On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'ver him streaming throws his shadows on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the the floor - Shall be lifted - nevermore! © 2003 big box industires , What can I say? Sometimes things just don't come out exactly as I anticipated them in my quirky little mind. The snap just wasn't right. And this spoof loses something in the live to web translation.  © 2003 big box industries Sunday, April 27, 2003
I am on a sabbatical at present learning how to become, via the ubiquitous Dummies series, a God. The beginning of the text, which is rather terse for Dummies, is a commentary on the doctrinal consistency and historical continuity associated with the manifestation of the divine in a corporal being. Further discourse is allocated to the proposition that monotheism, like monogamy, is very boring and at the metaphysical level very limiting. The argument is extended by the consideration that the restriction of having one and only one divine being, instantly banishes an infinity of alternatives, with further scrutiny showing this constraint to be excessive, perhaps even excessively feckless. And then there is the more traditional argument, “If you piss off the one and only one, be it God or significant other, you are (How do you say it in English, the original is in Latin?) fucked. How to Become A God for Dummies deviates from the norm in the series by not being a straight forward cookbook of how to become a God. But to the astute, Dummies certainly dangles lots of clues. Clue number one is that becoming a God is not an instantaneous affair. Clue number one is that becoming a God takes time. The actual trigger or phrase used in the text , and some suspect it is a double or even – a trinity, a trinity, we want a trinity – a triple entendre – is, “Lust not for results.” © 2003 big box industries Friday, April 25, 2003
It's about 3 o'clock in the morning. I got up about 2 hours ago. There is the most wonderful, gentle, gentle, rain. I put a few of my plants out in the tickle and I watered the rest. I'm alone this evening, just me and the pitter, patter, of the gentle, gentle, rain. Wait a minute that's not right. I have a friend hanging out with me. Doesn't say much but always ready for phun.  © big box industries Sunday, April 20, 2003
We go there not directly but (proceed) in a helter skelter way. Too much, too soon, so often causes one to go astray. And it is our intention for you not to lose your way. Nay, it is our intention for you to come and then to stay. Stay awhile or longer, and may this serve you well. Stay awhile or longer, but promise not to tell. That once while you were traveling, in a land most far but near, you heard the twinkling of the light, a sound so very dear. More of this we know, and more of this we will tell. But first we ask that you stay awhile and with us for some time dwell. © 2003 big box industries Friday, April 18, 2003
There is a great mystery surrounding Easter. It is the mystery of the Quack Bunny. Succinctly we have bunnies laying eggs. This is not how it is. The incongruity should make you suspicious. But just like Santa is an anagram for Satan, most are oblivious to the egg/bunny non sequitur. There is a mystery of mysteries here, a 3rd circle, inner order adept manifestation.  All this and heaven too. I have been blessed and I love it. I love it all. Happy Quack Bunny. © 2003 big box industries Thursday, April 17, 2003
 I wrote a full moon poem last Tuesday night, but you will never see it. I did have phun bringing it in and I am glad I took the time to dwell and ponder but my offering to the moon was just not good enough. My Tuesday attempt was better than a june/moon thing but it was too Norah Jones, too much like all my other full moon poems. The poem was too frocked and frilled with sentimental crap. with eyes above and heart beating and told her all your fears and hopes and she did always forgive. I tried to tinker with it the next day but the moment of its time was gone. Actually to me the poem itself is never that important, it is always just a memento. The real magick is unfortunately something that can't be shared. The real magick is the process by which the poem manifests, the creative endeavor. The real magick is how with all the words and combinations just one such way comes about. I had seen the moon as it came up on Tuesday evening, she was full and frisky and wanted to ride. I felt the stirrings then, little phrases here and there turning in my head. I didn't get home until after 11 pm est on Tuesday. When I first got home I piddled around doing this and that, all the while with second derivative thoughts about the moon, the frequency of thoughts about the moon were increasing at an increasing rate. The next thing I knew I was on a Nantucket Sleigh Ride, sitting at my desk scribbling furiously on oversized note cards. And here is where the real magick is. The poem doesn't just pow, come out all at once, instantaneously. It comes out word by word, and although you can't see the next phrase or the end you have a sense that there is more and it will be good and you just keep going. You keep scribbling furiously, impatient to see what will come next, until something else in the world beckons and distracts and you find yourself doing something else. You find yourself gone. Take this brother and may it serve you well. © 2003 big box industries Monday, April 14, 2003
This moon will be our moon. I will think of you and perhaps if I have been good you will forget. You will forget all the silly little thoughts that populate your head. You will forget that there was a yesterday and tomorrow. You will forget that you were once a queen and I a king. And remember that I am a man and you are a woman. And merrily she romps, feeding on her curds and milky white whey. And a poem does come. Perhaps not my best but t'is all I have. T'is all I have to let her know that I am still enchanted. © 2003 big box industries Sunday, April 13, 2003
 Defrocked and defrilled, enchanting like no other, swaying in the breeze, like petals in the wind. Ashes, ashes, all fall down. The ones that made me proud, and helped me find my soul, and stole my heart. Like pink snow. © 2003 big box industries True confession, I am strung out on stuff. I still need stuff about 2 or 3 times a week to easy my pain. Thank God America delivers. If you need stuff, it is everywhere just dying to meet you. I came home last night after a hard day at, some people like to go out dancing - other people like us we have to, work. I stopped on the way in to check my mail and I got that little rush you get when you discover that you have some more stuff. My CD's I had ordered had arrived. I got The Headphone Masterpiece - Cody Chesnutt. Never heard of CC, it was part of the special shipping and handling package. The Eminem Show -Eminem. Another CD that I would never ask for, but again it was almost free so I thought I would check out the clack. The Howard Stern of Jewish Junkies, Live - Take No Prisoners - Lou Reed. Please whine for me again Lou. And the winner of 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 Grammy Awards - Come Away With Me - Norah Jones. Maybe I need to play Come louder or be more gone or something. So ok Norah can play the piano and she has a nice slow, smokey voice. Of the 14 songs on the CD, Ms. Jones actually wrote 2 all by herself and shares credits on another song with Jessie Harris. Not much frêsh here. So she can play the piano and sing. I guess that's a big deal for a chick but... But there is no bitch here - no horny, no hot, no nails, no scratch. Every song sounds the same. There is not one distinct cut on the entire offering. Come Away With Me is well crafted. It has enough notes and everything, just very bland, no sugar and spice. Come is well suited for background music when you don't want to be distracted and really don't care what you are listening to. Maybe Ms. Jones's 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 Grammies are a wake up call for other chicks out there that they have to be able to do more that show us their navel and run around on stage like a squirmy dog, but in truth Come Away With Me does not deserve eight anythings. © 2003 big box industries Friday, April 11, 2003
 Plum and I made it down, work hard play hard, town early yesterday evening for a little phun. I don't make it down to much anymore so it is always a little adventure for me. I used to live a lot closer in 20 years ago so each trip brings back memories that haunt and enchant. For our outing I picked a Cherry, a restaurant that I had seen in The Creative Loafing, an Atlanta area paper. Thursday evenings, early, is sushi, steak, and martini night. One way or another something is going to strike your fancy. As luck would have it, the legendary gonzo digital photographer, Robert "d" Snaps was flashing, and we also hooked up with the infamous Martini Dude. Snaps, The Dude, Plum, and me. All this and heaven too and I fucking loved it. And no, I haven't forgotten, even though you probably have. My internet Julia Roberts' impersonation is coming soon. © 2003 big box industries Thursday, April 10, 2003
 It is a little before 8 am EST. I have already poked my head outside and it is grayish and nip, nip, nippy. It has been kind of, once upon a midnight dreary, rainy yuck all week. But I am up with the light of promise and doing and with my energy today I will do much magick. For as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be - the magick is in the doing. I think I will start the day by backing up my hard drive. I have just looked at my archive files and the last time I backed up my My Documents files was 10/3/02 and the last time I saved all my snaps for posterity was also around the first week in October, 2002. All this and heaven too. I love it. Later today I need to get handsome and get a haircut. And also, yes, the birds are still shitting on my car, but hurray not as much, but I still need to rise off my car. This evening Plum and I are going down, work hard play hard, town for an early dinner. And like manna from heaven, from little came much. So get your slacker ass in gear, do what you do, and amaze the world. © 2003 big box industries Tuesday, April 08, 2003
It's a SAW. Working on a little ditty, a song. And done some too. Don't have a lot of time. So just do what you do. And while I am at it I thought I would drop a few trips on you. A trip is a little freak that is spelt 3 different ways but pronounced the same. I have about 40 of them. These are a few on the list. wail rain lear for idol For each of the above there are 2 other words that are spelt, or is it spelled, differently, but pronounced the same. For sure, for is the easiest of the group. And you can try to add a new trip to the cull but the probability is very high that - been there and done that. © 2003 big box industries Monday, April 07, 2003
The quest for Saddam is over. He is alive and is now being held in U.S. Federal custody, in an undisclosed location in Atlanta, GA. The events leading up to the capture and arrest and detention of SH began early yesterday morning at about 2 AM EST. I got home from work last night at about 11 PM EST. After a quick dinner and a little tube, I decided to head towards Nirvana. I was counting the fleece by 2 AM EST. I was just about to leave the planet when the phone on my night stand with the shadeless lamp, rang. One, two, WTF? "Hello?" "It's me." "Me who?" "It's me man, Saddam. I fucked up really bad and need a place to crash. How about putting me up for a day or two until all the smoke clears. You owe me man." Fuck, I couldn't believe it. 2 AM EST and Saddam wanted to come over and party. "Look Sammy, we've had some good times together and stuff, but you are like way hot. Everyone in the fucking world is looking for your sorry ass. You are the Big T package, trouble all the way. There is no fucking way I am going to let you crash at my place. Where the fuck are you anyway?" "I’m in your driveway in my limo. I need you bad man. After this anything. You name it and it is yours. They want to fry my ass. Please help me." And then Saddam started to cry. "OK, OK, Sam, shit. But fucking shit send the god damn limo away." Still sopping, I heard, "May Allah bless you "d"." If you could find it, there is a NSA white paper, wax sealed, classified 3rd circle. The gist of this secret of secrets is that Saddam is a cheap date. He gets drunk easily. When Saddam came in he was still shaking, he was still sobbing, he was still incoherent. In truth his English is not the best, but only a rock would be oblivious to the fact that he was grateful. I got out two of my Vegas double shot glasses and then a frêsh bottle of vodka out of the freezer. By 5 AM EST Saddam was out and dreaming about whatever. In a fetal position he was long gone on my living room floor. What to do? What to do? I dialed 911. "How much is Saddam H going for?" Wow!! $100,000,000, leading to the arrest and conviction. "Get me the President." That proved to be a big mistake. Clue - George Bush Jr. knows nothing. I hung up after talking to George and then got the phone book. I looked up the FBI. (404) 123-4567. Ring, ring. "I've got him and I want the money." In about 2.4 seconds my house was surrounded by about a hundred flashing lights. The weirdest dudes you have every seen came through my front door. They got Saddam. They got Saddam and all I really wanted was my $100,000,000. "The money? When do I get the money?" This is kind of interesting. ""d" you don't want a Federal check for $100,000,000. Have you ever tried to cash a government check for big money? Banks would laugh at you. We have a better way of getting you the money. The next time The Big Lottery gets over $100,000,000, you will win." "Fuck that shit. I will have to pay taxes on that." "Whatever." "Well how can you predict the number?" "The number will be 5 20 51 3 4, and the super ball will be 1?" "But that is the number I always play." "We know." Coming soon. The best, and perhaps only, Julia Roberts' impersonation on the internet. And yes, it is GTG. © 2003 big box industries The last couple of blogs have been SAW blogs. Just some little ditties to let everyone know that I haven't been tied up and held for ransom. Just some little ditties to let everyone know that I am still alive & well - SAW. But I got a big fish on the line right now. Something you are not going to want to miss. Hope I find the time to bring this sucker in because if you are like me, you need it frêsh. And as if this big fish may not be enough to quell, I am also planning out the best online impersonation of Julie Roberts every. The skinny on this is, "Yeah, I got that on Fish last week." The moral here is get it Frêsh. © 2003 big box industries "Stop!!" "Stop!!" "I do not want to know everything. For if I knew everything I would no longer be King." © 2003 big box industries Sunday, April 06, 2003
And they wore blindfolds and patches and such, and they trembled and shook with uncertainty and they stunk with the scent of fear. They did this to keep out the holy, to keep out the light. And they kept out the light because they did not want to see. They did not want to see because they did not what to know. They did not want to know what time it was. For if they had lost time, then they had lost space. Into the nothingness, into the void, Erehwon. To be able to see only the deep depth of the darkness. Not to see, but only hear, the tinkle of the swirling light. © 2003 big box industries Friday, April 04, 2003
 
© 2003 big box industries And the King was in his counting house, counting all his money. I counted, rolled, and whatevered change today. $234. And I had to get some more rollers so I could do an additional $40 in dimes. Having the extra money was good but the big thrill was just doing something that needed to be done. Now that I am on a 2,4,6 roll, I think I will back up my hard drive tomorrow. © 2003 big box industries Thursday, April 03, 2003
Getting ready to go out. To frolick and mingle and be part of the night. Hope I have a good time. Cheers.  © 2003 big box industries He looked up at the bitch calendar neatly tacked to the wall near the shadeless lamp on his night stand - April 2003 - a bitch. It was Thursday - the 3, 10, 17, 24, - the 1st Thursday - the third - April 3, 2003.  He looked to the right and squinted a bit to decipher the time on the white Sony dream machine on the dresser up against the wall opposite the bed - 11:32. night stand - bed, let's go with 11:32 pm. Brandon was doing it again. Brandon was writing about nothing and having a good time of it. Brandon was having such a good time writing about nothing because in the back of his quirky little brain lurked a secret. Sure he was writing about nothing but then things can change. Things can undergo a transformation, like the one-to-one correspondence mapping of fish into not fish. And Brandon knew that the one-to-one correspondence mapping of nothing into not nothing was everything. So on April 3, 2003, a bit before midnight, watched over by a bitch, Brandon wrote about everything. As he wrote though, he wondered that if he was really writing about everything how come he was leaving so much out? (An aside. This would only be caught by the most astute, maybe 5 or 6 entities in the whole universe. While I craft this for you, and only you, I am listening to Exile On Main St. - The Glimmer Twins. And yes it still enchants.) © 2003 big box industries Well I tell you child It ain't no easy. It ain't no easy. When all your love is in vein. You think it would be easy for me to bring you the good stuff, fresh. But it's a bitch. It's S&M - I am always stymied. Just to bring you a little fish I have to jump through all kinds of hoops and passwords and screens. Much magick for a little fish.  I love these little bad boys. They are actually lighters. The front flips, to give you a flick of the Bic. The first time I saw them I bought 4, 3 for me and one for my brother. I have been pleased, so today, because I have been good, I bought 4 more. Three for me, and one for an acquaintance. © 2003 big box industries Tuesday, April 01, 2003
 With pith and puck and feckless abandon, he dropped his pants and mooned the world. © 2003 big box industries
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