Friday, September 11, 2009
In 1939, it took the so-called "Dies Committee," an early formation of HUAC, feeding biased and incomplete testimony to the House Appropriations Committee, headed by anti-New Deal Dem Clifton Woodrum, to sell the idea that the Federal Theater Project was the propaganda arm of the Roosevelt administration, and to defund same. And only after a three year run that produced thousands of plays and other performances nationally -- from the "Living Newspaper" and other New York productions around which controversy swirled to regional and traveling companies putting on Shakespeare, Gilbert and Sullivan, and vaudeville in communities of all sizes for audiences of all socio-economic strata. In 2009, it only takes a few segments by a clownishly emoting instapundit to make the current administration "reassign" an NEA communications director on the basis of similar charges. Light a candle for Hallie Flanagan, and hope that the increased speed of communication also speeds the time until this particular cynical demagogue overplays his hand.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Friday, August 07, 2009
Monday, September 08, 2008
so it goes, morning discourse, unable to capture its rythm as soon I start to scribble, syntax seeps through linguistic motion, therefore once all is settled, and by this we mean geographical sphere, we need need to start dictating the verbatim recopying.
drugs drugs drugs these insomniac outbursts, body feeling like steel screaped against wood, infected, talkative, acrimonious, bitter, clearsighted. Lucidities glorious abound not in meanind but by the finality they procure to streams previously unlocked and dramatised. I will bespectacle myself with the mediocre shades when that door is crossed, onto the populace, chaos. Til now, ti;e indomitable and still lenient, slow, allowing aches in my brain to solidify, the blood on the mirror to dry.
Why the gun, a sensible question, to be expected when said rifle is put on display so articulately in your face, one can examine its detached coolness on a youthful body so evidently self obsessed.
But if you ask I will answer not with those artificial inanities, not with prepared ponderations... It is the I, the demons inside, that a person has, behind petrified eyes, poly;orphous and installed in this flesh, that is always present, they are, to destroy, to protect. It is the self that points calmly to the head, this spectacle of inner violence, theatrical, lyrical and grotesque, bathed in sin, lacerated by noise, every action is a kill, that is my vernacular, to kill signifies to act, it involves a movement, a choice and a death. Micro- organisms and feelings, tremors and heartbeats. This is a kill. My day that commences with military exercise, breaks the physical comatose, breaks into the day, this is a kill. Each instant and its small deaths, every gesture succeeding the last, to be partaken as a craft, as an occurence parenthetical and still subject to the chronology of the day, there is always a flow, everything so fucking continuous, not necessarily geometrical, just streaming through, waves on an electrocardiogram. And these spasms only can interrupt the continuum, for a while, the gasps of transient limbo, out of time and color, comprehended in motion, not language, be it visual, audible or otherwise. Metabolic interpretations, organic caesuras occuring in minuscule terrains where synapses cogitate the rest of the time. They help us sane, bring us closer to a peace unsoiled by the mundane, the behavioral artefacts cluttering this existence . I don't know if it is the
drugs drugs drugs these insomniac outbursts, body feeling like steel screaped against wood, infected, talkative, acrimonious, bitter, clearsighted. Lucidities glorious abound not in meanind but by the finality they procure to streams previously unlocked and dramatised. I will bespectacle myself with the mediocre shades when that door is crossed, onto the populace, chaos. Til now, ti;e indomitable and still lenient, slow, allowing aches in my brain to solidify, the blood on the mirror to dry.
Why the gun, a sensible question, to be expected when said rifle is put on display so articulately in your face, one can examine its detached coolness on a youthful body so evidently self obsessed.
But if you ask I will answer not with those artificial inanities, not with prepared ponderations... It is the I, the demons inside, that a person has, behind petrified eyes, poly;orphous and installed in this flesh, that is always present, they are, to destroy, to protect. It is the self that points calmly to the head, this spectacle of inner violence, theatrical, lyrical and grotesque, bathed in sin, lacerated by noise, every action is a kill, that is my vernacular, to kill signifies to act, it involves a movement, a choice and a death. Micro- organisms and feelings, tremors and heartbeats. This is a kill. My day that commences with military exercise, breaks the physical comatose, breaks into the day, this is a kill. Each instant and its small deaths, every gesture succeeding the last, to be partaken as a craft, as an occurence parenthetical and still subject to the chronology of the day, there is always a flow, everything so fucking continuous, not necessarily geometrical, just streaming through, waves on an electrocardiogram. And these spasms only can interrupt the continuum, for a while, the gasps of transient limbo, out of time and color, comprehended in motion, not language, be it visual, audible or otherwise. Metabolic interpretations, organic caesuras occuring in minuscule terrains where synapses cogitate the rest of the time. They help us sane, bring us closer to a peace unsoiled by the mundane, the behavioral artefacts cluttering this existence . I don't know if it is the
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Monday, January 14, 2008
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Friday, September 07, 2007
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Friday, February 23, 2007
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Friday, December 15, 2006
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Thursday, November 30, 2006
2870
If I drove a garbage truck, Marx would consider me to be part of the proletariat. This is one of the reasons why there is not a lot of competition to get the job driving the garbage truck.
2869
Women, in general, do not know very much about weapons. This is why they are not a "revolutionary class" in the Marxist sense.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
2861
Obvious statements can be made on other blogs, and in other places, not just on the Totally Obvious blog
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Friday, September 01, 2006
Friday, August 25, 2006
Monday, August 21, 2006
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Saturday, August 05, 2006
2847
A blog could have a President, a Cabinet, a Council of Advisors, an elected Assembly, and a Sub-committee in charge of Nomenclature, but so what?
Friday, August 04, 2006
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
2827
It can be easy to like a person who is in a plane dropping bombs on someone else's neighborhood
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Friday, July 07, 2006
2824
Drinking milk does not augment breast size. Drinking water does not inundate the brain. Drinking alcohol does not make limbs evaporate. Drinking poison does not encourage existance.
2822
Yoghurt and Lasagna are very ugly words concealing unaesthetic yet tasty foodstuff. Which is malicious.
2821
If yeast is a leavening agent, it has some form of life, therefore it can be your friend and companion.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Friday, June 02, 2006
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Friday, April 21, 2006
2805
not all statements are apparently obvious at first, but upon reading them over, they become blatantly obvious.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Friday, March 24, 2006
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Monday, February 27, 2006
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Friday, February 24, 2006
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Monday, February 20, 2006
2790
If you're a peasant, and they tell you to sleep in a pile of shit, you need to think to yourself, "This is an okay pile of shit. I guess I like it. Here I am; what use would it be to dislike it?"
That's if you are a successful peasant.
That's if you are a successful peasant.
Friday, February 17, 2006
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Saturday, February 04, 2006
Monday, January 30, 2006
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Friday, January 13, 2006
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Monday, January 09, 2006
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Monday, January 02, 2006
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Thursday, December 29, 2005
2767
We are repeating ourselves. (be it subconcious recall, archetype, or universal truth). The longer we go on, the more someone will have said it before.
Monday, December 26, 2005
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Friday, December 23, 2005
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Monday, December 19, 2005
Friday, December 16, 2005
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
2742
A duck can't be obvious unless you've seen a duck or a picture of a duck and been told that it is a "duck"
Monday, December 12, 2005
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
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