Cut-Up: Nod to Burroughs, Baldwin, and Negativland

Chapter 4...

2010-06-03T17:01:00.000-07:00

Another three blocks and I – Her? – I? – stayed there. I didn’t want her. She might change her mind – the car – at the curb – bought – going – and I was enjoying it – took it back to the car – I sat – played cops and robbers.

This out – Talbot – she was heading north – the son for butlers – maybe. Talbot – end of the city limits – and she led and nothing more.

If he – about five miles and – then she might make him open up his still kept way – behind her – just maybe his heart wasn’t worth – I thought I was safe – Rena adopt Hammond’s technique only as a vanity accessory and let him worry – finally she slowed with a scam of rubber behind me as sharp left-hand turn into a corner much too fast – the next stopped.

I went on past taking – pandered past me – I caught a – there was an eight-foot-high look on her face – the pony a long way – the driveway had pennant back from the street – Rena was – he was – in one hell of a hurry – a guy in a black uniform and then slid the Healey out from under the Hillstone jail.

Being this cab – the Cadillac was three – I parked the Healey around – I shifted into second – flat-out of sight then walked backasst – burbled beautifully and was only two blocks behind – out eighteen-sixty.

Adrian sent her to know I was tailing – wrought-iron candlestick – is and about wherever she was – pieces like that it was a long time since I’d said – Vivienne Joule has way – said the girls were frightened whole time we reached the town – to like it now they go – burned up the freeway for hands I’ll show you.

Vivienne took the Hillstone turn-off – Ire – you know Dominic put – keeping the Cadillac in sight – or to supply power down – would use a rear view mirror – use oil lamps – his eyes’ll fire – risk squeal of rubber and made a painted shelf above the imposing driveway and looked as out of place as a quick look red brick fence that ran forward – player instead of transposed heavy iron gates set – stopped outside tailing totally everything.

Here is solid eeked cap. I didn’t remember the next bend – where it was news – four-poster beds – heavy a little way – there was noted – long ago of course but the cedar pieces are sad – looking about – but that much older.

If there are more I wouldn’t know – Cottrell – four blocks down – I parked. The room next door – Dominic – myself – a rye sandwich and here at first – though – they’ve grown there. And thought about home to the village on weekend – maybe it was a closed sea room – there’s no light up – he was just a butler who butt in a diesel engine and generate – wasn’t my nasty insinuations – stairs but the girls have to heart to me – then again – searched my face.

There’s lit opening – I thought I should – no complaints I said with arrest – the nearest bystander – a small transistor radio – or I heard the tortured screw – narrow modern platform – because somebody came around the c – the bed itself – moment a new Cadillac. Thru the next room held a reco-glimpse of the driver – the intesistor with its bristling guns paused – punching desperately at ship – the Space Ranger blasted straightaway – dash at triple the black ship – withdrew soft of Stygian gloom followed – debating whether to outface – tough to show its superiority.

Comer then it plunged – answer than before and the parasite – after it stronger what’s up – Mark shirked profane defiance out of his head with a suppressed grounded – his balled fists at what’s up – chortled muscles had turned to water slunk back where it came from last. He felt his spine going – trail you know what – that now and he’d be helpless black ship – will be full of hole aboard – lucky enough to get picture – ceased – suddenly saved – breathed.

Captain body erect then he saw weakly from between Shelton vermilion flames of rockets – he broke off shuddering – his trek ship streaked up a space ordering gleam – hoarse shout of relief – they remained where I said – and the lodge and strength – Traft continued the keyboard – he tried a smile off shore and those high celebration – the amazing crater shelter inlet – I’m told – it’s crawling up on them as the sea – expertly it maneuvered close – was built of granite.

But analyzing force grew stronger – Felton’s stonework had analyzing force – grew stronger – the lodge stood out clearly – muscles cracking. Traft Jeddish Brown of the natural – his strangling throat – and podded a roof of new red tiles keys – but it was useless.

His boathouse – at the foot of the Groaning – fighting to the limp – another few seconds. Thing about his granite walls – like the others were the same – for Granite Folly – but the terrible internal struts – proper period landscape amazed Traft – jerked his Captain Granite’s tomb up – why? – out of nowhere the artery on the north headland had appeared and a long slew grown – but there are elms and ranger ship.

Traft ripped a rubs worth saving his raspy throat – that must be Granite Island – and were passing through where John Felton lives – are set in a crumbling wall. Yes – he replied it’s mad – and I could see that the cliffs you see below the lodge – round the great house well – very hard to find the inlet Frodo have been recently mown...

Chapter 3

2010-06-03T16:59:00.000-07:00

The animal had stopped mid-stride as I appeared. It froze where I stood, wore a collar, but I could not see any tag. Its lips curled, of strength, speed, and controlled ferocity that held me back revealing strong white teeth, but it did not snarl or muzzled and tall. Its cropped ears and tail gave it a look, bark; it merely stood there looking at me.

Then it turned, but it was a dog – a handsome Doberman pinscher, black-trotted off along the track, and started to climb. Run – even when I saw what looked to me like a wolf. I had forgotten those curious steps up to the cave.

I was overcome with fear. I could not have turned to watch the Doberman until it disappeared into the narrow track. I gave a sigh of relief. I have always considered Dober-cave; something was trotting toward me, up the center, man pinschers among the least likeable of dogs, I took one.

I stop. Something moved in the shadows beyond the last, look up at the cave, and then continued along. Only after I rounded the granite, piled below the cave, did track as I rounded the fallen rock. I saw the spot where, back down the narrow chasm, my heart pounding, and the turning place for the truck had been. But the tracks, time, but this time I crossed it without thinking.

They tore themselves, had now completely disappeared. The entire slippery stone surface with its greenish weed at any other area was under water. And started to run. I would never have run across that. I stopped in horror. There was only a yard or so of sand. The hair on my neck prickled.

I gave a cry of fright, left, and, even as I watched, I could see that the strip was Gail…? Rapidly getting smaller? And then, in one terrible moment, it was like a wind. “Gail, Gail! Where are you?” I remembered the fierce tidal bores of the Bay of Fundy! “Gail!” they moaned. “Gail, Gail, Gail…!”

Thought of Adrian’s warning and my heart started to beat, not my own, and they called my name, so loudly I could almost hear it. Panic-stricken, I looked frightening. A distant murmuring… The words were frantically about. I thought of the cave where I had seen them. I heard something else, which I found even more…

Chapter 2

2010-06-03T16:56:00.000-07:00

There were a couple
In Lavers’
Got there. One was the light
The insomniac who wouldn’t
Wouldn’t stop dreaming of beautiful blondes.

Open the door of Lavers’
Sound of voices inside. I dropped into the
My unprintable thoughts
Opened and a tall, lean character
Beak of a nose and very thin lips. He had

Went well with his immaculate suit,
Past me without seeing me, because
Without looking that I was part of the
The character was outside the office,
“Your time getting here, Wheeler!” He growled. I sat down in

One with the loose spring that
In his office. “That corpse you found tonight,” Lavers grunted,
Agreed, “if it’s the reason
You?” he asked. “Sure,” I nodded, “he’s the guy who owns the
Saw just leaving my office,” the County

Son! That reefer-smoking … Bum,
He’s still Landis’ son and the
Murderer brought to justice. You can fill in the rest of
“A big wheel,” I said. “Mr. Landis”
Lavers said fiercely. “Mr. Landis controls the…

Chapter 1 (of an abandoned novel)

2010-06-03T14:57:00.000-07:00

“Ray Wheeler. Can’t you think of anything else but sex?” she, in the small dingy-looking building, pulled up and asked tartly.

I parked the car.

“I don’t know” I admitted. “I never tried.” I could hardly be called a big-time operator.

“The next time I ride in a cab with you, Ray Wheeler, I decided as I climbed out and studied the place,” Anna said breathlessly, “I’ll wear a suit.”

It did not even seem large enough to warrant my existence. The armor, I smoothed down the front of her dress and went inside. I looked up at the battered neon sign.

---

“Can I help you mademoiselle?” a pretty teen-ager spelled out.
If all the lights had been on, the receptionist, powdering her nose at the desk hastily, put underneath a small neon sign which read, “Away!”

From her compact, she looked up and smiled.

“Midnight at midnight? Thank you. I’d like to speak to Mr. Wheeler. Is this the place?” I asked her.

“Mr. Wheeler is out at the moment I’m afraid.” She took my arm determinedly and pulled me through. She said, “Perhaps I could take a message through the doorway.”

We walked down the steps into the cellar.

“No, I’m afraid a message wouldn’t do. You see, this is the place Anna. You’ll love it. I’ve come rather a long way to see Mr. Wheeler,” I explained.

We found a table against the wall and sat down. It was all the way from New York, a big cellar, but still just a cellar without air conditioning and I want to discuss Granite Folly with him. It was hot and smoky and you could hardly see a blonde, her dark eyes widened in surprise in front of your face. I took a close look at Anna.

“You’re the owner of Granite Folly? Then that’s right. When are you expecting Mr. Wheeler?

A consciously unkempt waiter lolled against the table back, leering at Anna.

“He’s out at Granite Folly today. He asked me to close. They’ve really got what it takes, Anna, in the office for him,” he said. “He might stay out there until Cuba ‘bass fiddle’ Carter hides and Wesley ‘the morning’ Stewart plans to play ‘the horn nobody ever heard of’ until a drive back to Halifax tonight.”

---

A couple of months ago and now everybody in town is talking. She glanced past me toward my gleaming yellow Camaro convertible.

“I could have Mr. Wheeler contact you there. There’s a second reason and this should interest you in the morning,” she said. “Midnight at midnight, like the neon says, ‘Out’ I think.”

“I’ve done enough driving for today,” I said with a faint smile, “coming in from Digby was bad enough.” (Note: that’s a quote from Gertrude Stein.)

“Miss Midnight O’Hara is her name,” Anna said.

I said quickly, “Anna, did you impatiently guess what she sings at midnight?” She drives in by the south road from the ferry, glances at her watch around fifteen minutes from now, nods. “It’s hardly what I’d choose for night driving.”

---

In my apartment, the worlds’ greatest await. It was so lonely and that road is in shocking condition. On records, my hi-fi setup is one of the best. I passed a moose that looked as big as a house.

“Haven’t you forgotten something?” she said coldly.
She looked concerned. “Didn’t you ask at Digby? I’m ticklish. Nobody uses that road anymore.”

She shivers.

---

The scotch arrived and the waiter took a long, close if-your-car-had-gotten-stuck-in-one-of-the-creeks-or-bogs look at Anna as he put the glass in front of her.

“Someone should have warned you about the wolves.” He said admiringly, “you’re really something.”

“Least she’s a girl,” I told him, “which is a four-letter word.”

“Wolves,” he echoed in amazement, “Don’t tell me. There you are, also a four-letter word which is pronounced ‘woo-loves’ around here quite differently.”

“Would you like me to make myself paint timber wolves?” She explained, “This is one of the fully clear few parts in the south of Canada where they still exist.”

“My,” he said, “we got the carriage trade tonight. We’ve had a long winter and not much spring so they drifted away from the table, flapping.”

---

His off-white, hungry, foolish drive to Granite, threw a napkin reproachfully at me as he went. “Folly tonight? Even Mr. Wheeler won’t go at night, if you just wait till you hear them.”

Anna said, “He can’t help it and he knows the road very well. Determinedly, these boys are basic New Orleans, worse than the road you came in by, maybe leaning to Chicago style. You can hear that, but you thought I might drive to Halifax? (Shuffle-rhythm coming through here and there and she laughed.)

“Your road map must be out of date, Miss.” Mercifully her voice was drowned by the trio.

---

“There’s a good all-weather road being built. In their stride, I found a new baby I tasted from Halifax but, it runs east of town and hasn’t quite cautiously confirmed my worst suspicions.”

“Reached Charente yet? It’s five miles out, but you connect. What did you think of that?” Anna asked eagerly.

“Noisy,” I said.

Now my hi-fi setup has a volume highway-only-fifty-miles-from-Halifax control and you can turn it up or down as you desire. I hadn’t heard they were building a new road, might also add that the liquor in my apartment comes. She nods.

“A mining company started it from a genuine Scotch bottle and I can show you the label back. They’ve found rutile in the beach sands just south, as well as the seal before you.”

---

“For a company to build that much access road, I’d say, my voice got lost in a storm of applause,” smiled Mike.

He announced Midnight O’Hara. I concentrated on the ‘it’s worth millions’ spot light which wavered for a moment then picked up, “Who’s Mike Midnight?”

Making her entrance, she blushed. “Mike and I go out together. He works. She was all women, Midnight O’Hara, for the company.”

She glanced at the wall clock and she was tall and blonde and she had dark eyes and winced.

“I was supposed to meet him five minutes ago, black as midnight.”

She had a full figure and the Black, down at the wharf; he’s working on a survey of other strapless – put a very definite emphasis on her – curves. Beaches, around here, they travel by boat because of rhinestones, flashed as they reflected the spotlight, cliffs you won’t try to drive out the road to.

She was a nice-looking dame in a world-populated Granite Folly.

---

“Now, will you?” she asked anxiously with nice-looking dames, right up to the moment she laughed.

“No, Miss Dupres, nor all the way.”

Halifax reached out a gloved hand and took hold. Either, at least not if, I can find a place to stay in the village and started to sing “We’d be Happy to Have you Miss Walton.” Then she sang, “She Was All the Women You Had, Ever,” eagerly.

My people have a farm near the Garross place and the only woman you ever wanted to know. I shook my head “Thank you,” but I couldn’t impose. She hit you right where you lived. That way isn’t there, a motel, or some kind of place. You could say she had style. She had personality. She, in the village that takes overnight guests, had depth. Her phrasing was perfect.

You could use Marie. She takes boarders. She’s three doors from here up. All the words to describe it, explain it, analyze it toward the wharf; you could go to Madame Deraine and her voice still reached out casually and melted you.

---

“The Deraines have the inn – you passed it a block back, insides coming in – but Mike and the company men board there.” She sang “Reckless Blues” then followed it up with “And They’re a Little Rowdy at Times.”

“I think you’d like “Bewitched” – bothered and bewildered.”

The clincher was Marie’s place, better though.

“You’re quite welcome to stay the-lady-is-a-tramp with us. My mother and father would be only too happy.”

And when the applause died away, and the trio was to have you digging into China, Anna looked expectantly. “Thanks Madelin. You’re very kind, but it wouldn’t be fair to your mother. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll go find how she was.”

She asked Marie, “Three doors down, you said, if she did a strip when she sang?”

I said “I would, yes,” toward the wharf.

She reached out for the tele-pay-a-cover-charge-phone. “I could call Marie and arrange it for you, how a character came in, leaned against our table, and how long do you intend to stay?” She looked at Anna admiringly, “Only tonight?”

“When I’ve seen Mr. Wheeler, he was around thirty and fat with his sports coat, mourning. I’ll plan it from there. I may stay.”

---

The Paretos were cut wide enough to shelter a team of adagio dancers out at the house and he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. “You mean you’d stay at Granite Folly, man,” he said admiringly, “I dig you the most. You I understand. The Paretos have some kind of motel or crazy chick. You guesthouse out there blew.”

I told him, “It’s easy to see you’re not a local, Miss. Don’t ignore me completely. I’m groovy tonight. Pigeon, you know the kind of place? Why don’t we have a ball?”
Some surprise, I’m beginning to wonder why now.

“Get lost!” Anna said crisply, “I realize how far out and lonely it must be, yet, I do sometimes check.”

“Huh,” he said straightening him. “Remember a beach there? And no doubt there’s fishing, with an effort; sleep with your glasses on.”

“Huh.”

“And hunting okay? So I’ll nix out.”

Madelin shook her head. “They’re not that kind.”

---

I watched him weave his way unsteadily through the guests. Miss Walton hesitated. They live there, tables toward a door at the far end of the cellar, permanently. They’re people without relatives or language. “Was that Ann?” asked relatives who don’t want them around.

“Some are jive-talk honey,” I explained, “liquor or more, retired, and have an income, but mostly the Paretos take, probably, dope in some form for their welfare checks.”
“It just didn’t make sense,” she said. “Are they aged people? Then, depends which groove you’re in.”

I said, “This place! Not all, just unemployable or the reclusive type, sort of grows on you doesn’t it, like a fungus, but I’m sure you wouldn’t like it out there Miss.”
“It’s worth it,” she said, lifting her chin a little. “Where Charente mightn’t be, it’s a long way ahead, or else would you hear jazz like this?”

---

“I wouldn’t be much, but it’s a long way ahead of. I already answered that,” I said with a good deal of folly. “I wouldn’t spend a night out there for any self-control in my thing, myself.”

“It sends me,” she said, “I can’t understand why it…” She broke off and turned back to the phone. “That doesn’t send you, Al. I never thought you were a square, Mike.”

Outside he must have gotten tired of waiting for me. I took a long steady glance at her ample curves and walked up here. “I’ll call Marie.”

“That’s something I’d never call you, honey,” I said. “Can I phone the Paretos from Marie’s?” (I was speaking figuratively.)

She admitted, “Perhaps I can find out what I want to know from them, so I agreed without going out at all. And you wonder why a girl’s scared to go up?”

“No, there’s no line,” Madelin replied, “It’s more than your apartment. You’re the only man, twenty miles through the forest, Mr. Wheeler, I could feel looking at me; tell you anything you want to know.”

Review of Sonic Outlaws

2009-04-15T20:08:00.000-07:00

The best place to begin with the films of San Francisco based artist Craig Baldwin is in the middle. After making a number of short collage-based films including the mind-bogglingly fascinating quasi-sci-fi mini-epic Tribulation 99, it seems he felt the need for a manifesto, of sorts.

His documentary Sonic Outlaws is that manifesto, his attempt to explain his art. And it is a brilliant and fascinating explanation, manifesting the same aesthetic philosophy as his prior work. It is as mind-bogglingly rich as any of his films before, and after.

Two lines of dialog in Sonic Outlaws combine to neatly capture this method:

“You can put a bunch of stuff on the air or in a record that are not really necessarily related to each other at all. Put them in connection with one another and, if there’s any way at all to do it, people will put it together in their minds and make it have a meaning.”

“… capturing the corporately controlled subjects of the one-way media barrage, re-organizing them to be a comment upon themselves, and spinning them back into the barrage for cultural consideration.”

I’ve been fascinated since college by the human mind’s ability to make sense out of anything, even nonsense. I used to hang out with my roommate, kicking back on the couch, drinking beer, and watching television. We would always turn the sound off though and play random LPs from our massive joint collection. The nightly news played especially well when accompanied by early Genesis or King Crimson. We would continually be amused by how, no matter what music we played, it seemed to have been composed with that day’s television programming in mind. Kind of made the entire Wizard of Oz/Dark Side of the Moon synchronicity seem all the nuttier.

In the years since, I’ve dabbled with Gysin and Burroughs’ “cut-up” technique of writing, to again be amazed by how the mind can turn truly random combinations into meaningful poetry, such as in this excerpt where I cut together random fragments from my review of Marley and Me and a news article about President Obama’s new puppy:

“The President did with happy, puppy times. Ultimately, as a lifelong President, he would go to a shelter of a breed overflowing, because so many people give pets, a cute puppy or kitten dancing in their heads, to a pet store or puppy mill, either. It’s a gray conscious response to these tough economic forgiving.”

This also leaves me wondering why schools are so hell-bent against kids copying things and yet they don’t offer classes on the creative potential of re-using pre-existing materials. But I seriously digress…

Sonic Outlaws uses a lawsuit against the experimental music group Negativland as a point of departure. After stumbling upon a pirate copy of Casey Kasem swearing and carrying on during a broadcast recording session (he was fumbling his words while trying to introduce the song “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for” by U2 and getting frustrated), the group got an idea, creatively juxtapose bits and pieces of the tape with fragments of U2 songs. And thus began their sad, downward spiral of copyright infringement battles.

A major element of Baldwin’s work consists of extended montages of found footage drawn from his seemingly inexhaustible basement library of newsreels, trailers, industrials, old television shows, B-movies, and so on. And Sonic Outlaws is ripe with such extended virtuoso sequences.

After a scene where a member of Negativland listens in on a cell phone conversation (a lover’s spat between two gay men), an ethical and legal discussion of such radio-jamming is juxtaposed with images of people listening to radios and shots of radio personalities in their broadcast booths. This then leads quite fluidly into images of people on telephones, a very funny shot of a man throwing a hammer at a radio, and so on…

Later, a hilarious Mondo 2000 radio show interview between Negativland members and the unsuspecting The Edge from U2 inspires a similar montage. The legal questions discussed conjure up images from old courtroom dramas such as Perry Mason and the David versus Goliath implications provoke an intercutting of shots of giants and monsters from old sci-fi movies and executives towering over a model building in a board room. The Edge calls it “the most surreal interview I’ve ever had in my life.” Baldwin’s treatment turns the surreal into the inspired.

And that’s just the beginning. The film is like a snowball rolling down a hill. It gains speed and energy as it accumulates more and more illustrations of its thesis.

There is a section on billboard pirates, rebel artists who hijack commercial billboards to their own ends:

“…forget about the rest. Invest in Greed. Vote for me,” adorns a billboard beside a picture of Ronald Reagan holding a cocktail.

An Army recruitment billboard is altered to read, “We’ll pay you $288 a month to kill. Today’s Army wants to join you.”

And Sonic Outlaws continues to gain momentum by considering copyright infringement issues in relation to artists like Andy Warhol (Campbell Soup cans), the Mellotron (used to musically manipulate taped recording of symphony orchestras), and Daffy Duck’s rendition of “Yankee Doodle Dandy.” Legal battles over Too Live Crew’s parody of Roy Orbinson’s “Pretty Woman” (“Big hairy woman, you need to shave that stuff…”), a Mad Magazine issue with Irving Berlin song lyric parodies, and some mad fool who thought he could get away with cartoons showing Mickey and Minnie Mouse having sex are all drawn into the vortex as well.

And, as if that wasn’t enough, we get glimpses into the history of Dadaist art, Marshall McCluhan, William S. Burroughs, a kid making a cut-and-paste animated film, children copying and stretching Sunday comics using Silly Putty, and a group called Barbie’s Liberation Organization which surgically altered talking Barbie and G.I. Joe dolls, swapping their voices, and placing them back on store shelves.

And yet, much to the film’s credit, it is never a case of too much of a good thing. Baldwin’s editing is so nimble and fluid (out of hundreds if not thousands of found images, how does he manage all of them being so beautiful, so interesting?) that he pulls it off. His stream of logic style is worthy of comparison with the work of Chris Marker – I’m thinking Sans Soleil and The Last Bolshevik in particular.

Sonic Outlaws ends on a beautifully ironic note, the hypocrisy of U2 pulling satellite television images (“totally copyrighted stuff”) out of the air and projecting them behind the stage on their Zoo TV tour, using them for money, the very thing they sued Negativland for that inspired all of this madness.

I guess if you’re big enough you can get away with anything. All others beware.

For more information about Craig Baldwin and Sonic Outlaws, visit his website at www.othercinema.com.

What did he say?

2009-04-14T12:45:00.000-07:00

“Repeatedly, the recently enacted stimulus plans – the efforts to strengthen the banking system and attempts to rescue the flagging American auto industry – have all borne fruit, demonstrated in part by an increase in consumer spending on a wide array of goods (declined in March). Does not mean that hard times are over,” Mr. Obama said, warning that 2009 will be a difficult year.

“And that century, that is the future I see. That is the future I know we can have. But the near future will bring more,” he told an audience at Morehouse College in Atlanta.

There were “tentative signs” that the decline instead built skilled, productive workers, by sound investments that will spread opportunity at home. “And times are still tough,” he said. “By no means are we out of the woods just yet."

But from where we stand, for the imagery, the president envisioned a future where sustained economic growth creates good jobs and raising a vision of an America’s future that is far different than our troubled economic past.

Realizing that vision will be “liberal.” For instance, he defended his administration’s decision not to take over failing banks.

“Government’s ethic,” the president said. “It will also require work on deep, complicated issues like health care and energy.”

He did, however, use the occasion to reaffirm his determination to do something about the rising cost of outsiders against the presence, at a Catholic university, of a president who supports abortion rights.

“Driven by a larger vision of America’s future,” Mr. Obama said in remarks at Georgetown University.

There have been similar protests at Notre Dame, where the president is to speak at commencement exercises on the once high-rolling members of the financial world, but for politicians who he said had deferred, whose foundations are built not on sand but on rock, proud, sturdy and unwavering in the face of the greatest prosperity.

Speaking just after a disappointing report on March retail sales made it clear that if we come together and begin the hard work of rebuilding, if we persist and persevere against President Obama on Tuesday, that the battered economy was showing signs of recovery, but, he warned, “Dreams of our founders will live on in our time. Americans, more pain lies ahead.”

And he urged them to help build a foundation for a new 21st century, disappointments and setbacks that will surely lie ahead. “Then I have no doubt that this house will stand and the recovery is not yet at hand.”

The president delivered a speech that was part pep talk and part rebuke, not only for storm. “We will not finish it in one year or even many,” he said, “but, if we use this moment to delay new decisions for too long, I want every American to know that each action we take and each policy we pursue is alluding to a parable at the end of the Sermon on the Mount.”

Bo & Me

2009-04-13T09:46:00.000-07:00

“In baby talk, he’s so cuuuuuute. Little, happy, made me laugh, sometimes hard.”

More than a few missed the news because of other priorities, longingly. Everyone in the audience, when you bring family, has a new memory, the new First Dog, telling the entire life of a dog and not just on Saturday.

With a mysterious new web site owner, it made me think. Animal shelters spotted it and linked to it, causing the rest of the gifts – tied with a bow – with thoughts settled. We know that Bo is a 6-month-old. Forget that a life lasts a lifetime. And, as if a Kennedy, the dog should be thrilled. He’ll have times with news stories of pets left to starve in North Lawn, the South Lawn, a swimming pool – both movie and book – locates it heart. It’s like Barney used to have.

Obama’s daughters seem like a good idea now. But what happens, too? Not everyone’s elated though – because what happens when the kids grow up and have one? He’s not an animal shelter. And the President? What happens when they leave for college?

“Who made this promise to Dr. Jana Kohl, the author of ‘Across the Country’?”

Actually, another reason three-legged rescue dog and puppy mill survivors understand the value of spaying and neutering – that then-Senator Obama agreed to appear in its funniest sequences – but that’s a whole other, became the cover for “American Dog” magazine.

“’Marley & Me’ on DVD will be standard issue with those who really care about animal welfare. While watching the movie, I found myself humanized every year, every dog purchased by dogs (and cats and horses and hamsters and …),” as they say. “That’s why Vice President Joe, a dog, named Princess. Those years were filled under to get his dog.”

“Animal rights activists never end.”

Most of my memories from that time are getting a second dog from a shelter. So far, this is with me for such a short time and, the older I get, there’s a technicality. One of those “definitions,” years was everything. We also get a strong House; it isn’t Bo’s first home.

He originally lived happy and fulfilling lives with the Grogan family, the other dogs. So he was given back to them. They will go on to experience much more life. And put in the end, the Kennedy’s learned of this litter, just a fond memory. After things settled, he wanted to give the girls a gift. And there were times it made me cry at the end as it did seem so, technically, he’s a second.

“Your kids. Consider preparing them for a story society didn’t tear into.”

The President did with happy, puppy times. Ultimately, as a lifelong President, he would go to a shelter of a breed overflowing, because so many people give pets, a cute puppy or kitten dancing in their heads, to a pet store or puppy mill, either. It’s a gray conscious response to these tough economic forgiving.

“This is truly a missed opportunity to plea to all future pet owners to think first.”

And gray, exceedingly cold

2009-04-13T06:09:00.000-07:00

And gray, exceedingly cold
From the main Yukon trail and climbed the
Where a dim and little traveled trail led eastward
And he paused for breath at
The act to himself by looking

There was no
Though there was not a cloud
A clear day, and yet there seemed an intangible
Gloom that made the day dark, and that
Worry the man.

Used to the lack of sun. It had been days since
Must pass before that cheerful
The sky-line and dip
Man flung a look back along the way he had come.
Wide and hidden under

As many feet of snow. It was
In gentle, undulations where the
Had formed. North and south, as far as
Was unbroken white, save for a
And twisted from around the spruce-covered island to the

Twisted away into the north, where it disappeared
Dark hair-line was the trail--the
Hundred miles to the Chilcoot Pass, Dyea, and salt water; and
Dawson, and still on to
On Bering Sea, a

Thousand more. But all this--the
Sky, the tremendous cold, and
It all--made no impression on the
Because he was long used to it.
Land, a chechaquo, and

Winter.

DAY had broken cold

2009-04-12T10:59:00.000-07:00

DAY had broken cold
And gray, when the man turned aside
High earth-bank,
Through the fat spruce timberland.

It was a steep bank,
The top, excusing
At his watch. It was nine o'clock.
Sun nor hint of sun,
In the sky. It was
Pall over the face of things, a subtle
Was due to the absence of sun. This fact did not
He was

He had seen the sun, and he knew that a few more-days
Orb, due south, would just peep above
Immediately from view. The
The Yukon lay a mile
Three feet of ice. On top of this ice were
All pure white, rolling

Ice jams of the freeze-up
His eye could see, it
Dark hairline that curved
South, and that curved and
Behind another spruce-covered island. This

Main trail--that led south five
That led north seventy miles to
The north a thousand miles to Nulato, and finally to St. Michael
Thousand miles and half a
Mysterious, far-reaching hair-line trail. the absence of sun from the

The strangeness and weirdness of
Man. It was not
He was a newcomer! In
This was his first

Video of the Cut-Up and Fold-In Techniques

2009-04-11T18:39:00.000-07:00

This is what I'm trying to do in the words of Burroughs himself.

Am I next?

2009-04-11T14:39:00.000-07:00

Of the earth, let me see, that would be four, she came upon a little three-legged table. Alice had learnt several things of this sort in it, but a tiny golden key. Alice’s first was not a very good opportunity for doors of the hall, but, alas!

Either the locks – one to listen to her still, it was good at any rate – would not open, any of them. Right distance, but then I wonder what, upon a low curtain, she had not noticed, not the slightest idea. What was tried – the little, nice, grand words to say?

Presently, she fitted Alice, opened the door and the Earth. How funny it’ll seem, much larger than a rat-hole. She knelt down, their heads downwards, the antipathies the tiniest garden you ever saw. How she longed to listen this time, as it didn’t sound at all among those beds of bright flowers and, what the name of the country is, you get her head through the doorway and/or Australia.

And she tried to curtsey, as poor Alice. It would be of very little use through the air. “Do you think you could shut up like a telescope? I think I could, if she’ll think me for asking.”

No, it’ll never do. Many out-of-the-way things had happened, elsewhere, down, down, down there – very few things indeed were really impossible again. Dinah’ll miss me very much.

To the little door, she went back to the table, I hope. They’ll remember her saucer of milk or at any rate a book of rules for shutting by, and for, the people in charge. Here the Americans have taken the ship. (“Floor of the Senate?” he asked.) What does this crew of a hijacked ship have? Regained control? Financial institutions? The condition of anonymity?

Because Senator Bob Corker said, “It should send a check. The hijacked crew apparently contacted the Enterprise. The stock market plunged as they did not call the government.

“Am I next?” they whispered to each other.

Company, Maersk, has scheduled a noon Obama. “Not much fellows. He has the machine started. Yet, so it is believed now that the crew has been granted permission by us pirates, I think. This is the first time, the week’s all-net 3-pointer. Stay tuned!”

I write previous instances, the crews have just done, of thousands of workers over the past 25+ treated as prisoners, but, apparently, the heap by General Motors, many saw their lives. They know this at the White House, while the drugs, their marriages fell apart.

The Americans took the ship back, never moved over, and moved away, the end.

Option number six: the White House getting at GM. And they cursed, “You guys handle it!” We’ll get around to it, one of them thought. “One day was going to be … they don’t either…”

I’m sure treatment of Chairman Wagoner -- Whew boy! – dodged a bullet, evicted from his home, tell his kids, excessive force.

And will we apologize for…?

Of croquet she was playing

2009-04-11T08:43:00.000-07:00

The world – including my own country herself – is going out altogether, like talking about Kenya or the United States. And she tried to fancy – what the flame of we got – some sheik, some guy named “Out.”

She could not remember every guy, Obama. “I really think he means it, that nothing more happened. The next thing we know, the Somali pirates, alas, poor Alice.”

When she got to the love and then the ChiComs and another golden key, she went back to the power grid and so forth. “Why, why is all reach it?” She could see it quite plainly. “The world loves us now. The world climbs up one of the legs of the table, but its electricity grid’s been penetrated, herself out with trying.”

Beside the poor little thing sat Somali pirates who we haven’t heard from. “Like that!” said Alice to herself.

It’s, rather, 1979 all over, less than 100 days American. She generally gave herself. Very good. So what happens? Well, the Obama. And sometimes she scolded herself. So response, “They’re working on this. They’re once trying to box her anything in their lives. They’re working – of croquet she was playing – against working to respond to the first pirate, pretending to be two people.”

But it’s no notice. This did not happen during the two people. “Why there are hardly pirates, attacking everybody, collecting.” So, soon her eye fell on a little glass for President and Vice-President of the United electors, shall meet their respective executive and judicial officers of a state or Vice-President, one of whom, at least, shall deny to any of the male inhabitants of such.

Themselves, they shall name in their ballots citizens of the United States, or, in any way distinct ballots, the person voted for as Vice rebellion or other crime. The basis of all persons voted for as President – and, of proportion, the number of such male votes for each – lists male citizens twenty-one years of age, in such, sealed to the seat of the government.

Of the Representative in Congress, of elector, of the Senate; the President of the Senate shall under the United States of Representatives open all the certificates. A previously taken oath, as a member of a person having the greatest number of votes, or as a member of any State legislature or, as number be, a majority of the whole number; State to support the Constitution of the United majority.

Then, from the persons having insurrection or rebellion against the same or on the list of those voted for as President, the Congress may, by a vote of two-thirds, immediately by ballot the President. But in disability, the validity of the public debt taken by states – the representation from each including debts incurred – for payment of pensions.

(Purpose shall consist of a member suppressing insurrection or rebellion, shall majority of all the states, shall be necessary to States nor any State, shall assume or pay any Representatives, shall not choose a President.)

Off the cake!

2009-04-11T06:56:00.000-07:00

And vote by ballot for President – and insurrection or rebellion against the United States.

Not be an inhabitant of the same state with emancipation of any slave, but all such debts. The person voted for as President – and in the void the congress shall have power to President and they – shall make distinct lists, provisions of this article ALICE was beginning. All persons voted for as Vice-President – and the bank and of having nothing to do – shall sign and certify and transmit. “Sister was reading, but it had no pictures of United States directed to the President,” of the book thought Alice.

Without pictures or in the presence of the Senate and House’s own mind as well, she could, for the hot and the votes shall then be counted, whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain for President, shall be the President if such, and picking the daisies, when suddenly white electors appointed, and if no person was nothing, so very remarkable!

In the highest numbers not exceeding three, the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, “Oh House of Representatives shall choose.”

She thought it over afterwards, it occurred, “Choosing the President, the votes shall be ‘this,’ but at the time it all seemed quite natural, state having one vote a quorum for ‘this.’ Watch out!”

Of its waistcoat-pocket and looked, from two-thirds of the states and her feet, it flashed across her mind a choice, “If the House of either a waistcoat-pocket or a watch takes, whenever, the right of choice; shall devolve.” The box was lying under the table. She opened it upon – them before the fourth day of March –which the words “EAT ME” were beautifully.

Act as President as in the case of the death of Alice, it makes me grow larger. I can President the person, having the greatest smaller. I can creep under the door so the Vice-President – if such number be a major care – happens or she ate a little bit and appointed no person to have a majority, which way, holding her hand on the top list, the Senate shall choose the Vice-President. And she was quite surprised to find that she – of two-thirds of the whole number of Senate – generally happens.

When one eats cake shall be necessary to a choice, but no person expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things shall be eligible to that of Vice-President, stupid for life, to go on in the common way or naturalized in the United States.

“Off the cake!”

So Barack Obama goes on his way. The United States and of the State wherein everybody says, “Wow it’s great to have any law which shall abridge the privileges or humble. It takes profound arrogance to go, nor shall any State deprive any person of life, country.”

“To say that your country is lacking of law, nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction anything, because you happen to be president; Representatives shall be apportioned among conceit and arrogance, which is part and respective numbers counting the whole number around the world,” he apologizes.

He goes to Indians not taxed, but when the right to vote, statements about Islam we’re not at war with.

Don’t ya wanna be ya?

2009-04-10T16:26:00.000-07:00

I don’t think anybody in the “government golden parachute” slipped in his hands. We might apologize for being there, that others receive, except he exempted them. And to say that this is all, door buster: “Ya don’t wanna be ya.”

I, these acts of threat to the U.S. Senate, got into their close, to where their pirate waters are. I bailout the overseers, wanted to know intelligence to guide us, but “What we do of these banks? Won’t tell them.” They’ve “this,” according to the Pentagon, not money.

“Went?” It certainly didn’t go to create. They’ve simply retaken the ship. (This is bad PR that people need; it was so shocking.)

“Look!”

Like anybody can take the ship back, but it gave me an idea for the movie I/they are going to have to consider, nothing. “Archives to Stand in Line,” see the United States, the elected representative, about how, twenty years ago this month, I, General Motors, a company that’s spent.

More film, a personal plea to warn the nation about someone else.

“You’re fired! I simply can’t march in 1989.”

I was broke, having left me speechless for the past – relying on help from my friends Bob and the chairman of General Motors. “The pick up,” the check, the assistant manager of the 20th century, can he do that?

Really, would watch an occasional movie, Laurie, an old move having sent the heads of corporate machine for me, John Richard, “Slip me an Obama.” He has issued this edict: “The Government Christmas Rod would do anything for me – or any claim for the loss of “next following.” Then, the Vice-President shall – obligations and claims shall – be held illegal (other constitutional disability of “the enforced by” appropriate legislation) and the number of votes, as Vice-President, shall be to get very tired of sitting by her sister.

On the whole number of Electors, twice she had peeped into the book, then from the two highest numbers, on the conversations in it, and what is the use of a quorum? For the purpose, shall consist conversations. So, she was considering – and majorities of the whole number made her feel very sleepy and stupid, constitutionally ineligible. The office would be worth the trouble of getting up.

President of the United States, all persons, born white rabbits with pink eyes, ran close by her jurisdiction. “Dear, oh dear. I shall be too late.” Alice started, “To the several States, having never before seen a rabbit, with persons in each State, burning with curiosity, any election for the choice of electors?”

My Manifesto: or whatever

2009-04-10T13:01:00.000-07:00

Dear Brave Readers,

I thought I should take a pause and explain what I’m up to.

I’ve been fascinated by the act of collage for many years. I get a great thrill in the idea of taking things that already exist, ripping them apart, and re-combining them in ways that create meanings far removed from those offered by the original objects.

Filmmaking always does this, every time a filmmaker grabs something out of a library to help make his point. Writing does this all the time by reusing bits and pieces of language – typically words, but longer phrases as well – and creating new expressions and ideas through their fresh new juxtapositions.

I’ve always loved the work of bands like The Mothers of Invention, Pink Floyd, and The Beastie Boys – not to mention countless rappers like Eminem and the list goes on and on – for how they draw from culture’s endless bank of sounds, musical and otherwise, to create exciting new compositions.

I’ve long been fascinated by “Naked Lunch” and “The Wild Boys,” two novels by William S. Burroughs. They are heady reads and I won’t even dare claim that I understand them at all fully, but there is poetry about them, and themes emerge through them, and they have a sense of mood and character that is unforgettable.

It was only recently, though, that I came to understand a major element of Burroughs’ working method – the Cut-Up. Now, I’d heard about it. Gus Van Sant talked of its being his inspiration for making “My Own Private Idaho” which combined elements of several unfinished scripts and a short story he had collecting dust. But then, I read a webpage about how, exactly, Burroughs would create his strange compositions.

By taking existing texts, literally cutting them apart, down the middle, side to side, diagonally, and randomly reassembling the pieces of paper; Burroughs would create the raw text for his “new” works. Then the writer (or maybe more accurately editor) in him would be set free to paper over the cracks and massage the words into a final product, reflective of his authorial voice.

My pieces so far like “Do cats eat bats?” and “Donate my dead car” follow this approach exactly, and, if nothing else, it is a great form of self-entertainment – I got some good laughs out of working on both.

(By the way, my source material for all of my compositions so far (except “Kilm”, more on that in a moment) was the first chapter of “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” Michael Moore’s latest letter on his website, a news article I found on Rush Limbaugh’s website, and a few random articles from the United States Constitution. I dunno. They all just seemed to belong together, somehow.)

Recently, I’ve come across the films of Craig Baldwin – and through his film “Sonic Outlaws” – the music of Negativland. I’ll be exploring – and writing about – both of their works here on this blog as well. They essentially do with film and music, what Burroughs did – and I’m attempting to do – with writing.

As for “Kilm,” it is an experiment that I doubt I’ll be repeating. I took a review of “Milk” I had written about a month prior and ran it through a computer program I found online. It cut it up and randomly reassembled it, and then I went to work, polishing it up. I kind of like the results, but something gets lost when too much randomness enters the picture. With “Kilm,” shards from the beginning, middle, and end of the review might end up side-by-side. With Burroughs’ approach, connected fragments tend to remain in somewhat closer proxity in the finished work. So far, I tend to find this result more satisfying.

The other weakness of “Kilm” is that all of the material came from the same source. I find it much more interesting to “mash” together material from widely and wildly different sources. In a way, that’s the whole point of doing this sort of thing.

Cheers,
Todd Ford

Donate my dead car

2009-04-10T10:41:00.000-07:00

“… and drive to Flint whenever I needed something.”

States representatives in Congress would’ve turned 88 tomorrow. If she were a member of the Legislature, thereof is me in the kitchen, they wanted to help, and state being twenty-one years of age, and a thousand dollars. I didn’t know they even had bridged except for participation, insisted I take it, “No!”

And then, in that therein, shall be reduced. Could finish my movie I did. And I did so citizens shall bear to the whole number, down Pennsylvania Avenue, my 9-year-old. State, “No person shall be a Senator or my head down on the steering wheel and President and Vice-President or hold any, be repaired.” And I certainly had nothing under and state, who having screwed the license plates off so I wouldn’t regress, or as an officer of the United States there for good, I looked over at the building, an executive or judicial officer, of any.

What better place to donate my dead car – United States.

Shall – having engaged in home, though it wasn’t easy for me – I still give aid or comfort to the enemies, friends, and neighbors? Went through, thank birds of each House, removed; such rigged against them, I wonder what the United States authorized by law.

Monday morning, to read in the Detroit News bounties that, Obama had fired the CEO of GM. “Oh!” Be questioned, but neither the United debt nor obligation incurred in aid of that. We will apologize for taking back the shit, much money, we were speculating that they will be that stupid, but I do think it’s possible, owning Citibank.

They were getting so rich so, so close to known pirate waters for having, around the world, apologized for the country going to change during the Obama administration. Attack on the United States. Holding America innocent, Somalis of the world, by getting so (interruption)…

“I know, just stick with me, don’t know, we only have experience and senior Navy officials in Washington,” said Wednesday, “Now, is that the crew of the ship apparently talking to the shipping company to learn the wait for any response from Washington?”

The incident in which the Maersk Alabama – and for the Somali pirates – is going to make pirates okay. What response were they planning once they’ve been hijacked? It’s something, responses that the Obama administration – like it has ever happened to the President – could have negotiated with the pirates. “I’m of the people” has just told the head of General Motors, “Paying’em off! Just pay’em the money!”

What years at #1 on the Fortune 500 list – than any other one of these parachutes – drops hope? Believe it, this stunning, unprecedented time. The Saudis did this. Maybe try the new days.

I keep saying, “Did Obama really fire, not at war with them?” Maybe beg. Maybe wealthiest and most powerful corporation looks bad. “We have no gripes with you pirates.” Well damn! What else can he do? This doesn’t pirate us, number four.

“Surrender America!” – spinning and spewing pea soup while the administration’s planning all of this.

Nothing else to do

2009-04-10T09:27:00.000-07:00

Ran across the field, after it, and was just in time – must be getting somewhere near the centre.

Under the hedge, in another moment, down a thousand miles, down I think (for you see how in the world she was to get out again) to her lessons in the school-room, and thought for some way and then dipped suddenly down showing off her knowledge as if there was no moment to think about stopping herself before practice to say, “It’s over, yes, that’s about it.”

It seemed to be a very deep well, either the latitude or longitude. I’ve got to ask Alice: “Had she had plenty of time as she went down to longitude, either?” But she thought they were going to happen next. First she tried to look, began again, I wonder, “If I shall fall, fight, but it was too dark to see anything.”

Then, came out among the people that walk with, noticed that they were filled with cupboards, think she was rather glad there were no maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took the right word, but I shall have to ask them. It was labeled “ORANGE MARMALADE.”

“Please ma’am. Is the New Zealand empty?” She did not like to drop the jar for she spoke fancy, curtseying, as you’re falling, managed to put it into one of the cupboards. “Manage it!” and what an ignorant little girl, herself after such a fall as this, I shall think to ask, perhaps I shall see it written up. Some they’ll all think me at home.

“Why I wouldn’t? Nothing else to do.”

So, Alice soon began talking, “Top of the house” – which was very likely true night. I should think Dinah was the cat, come to an end. “I wonder how many miles at tea-time, Dinah my dear, I wish you could bail out Citibank. They could end up in the air I’m afraid, but you might catch a bat.”

Bush leaves office. Obama comes in, runs. Do cats eat bats? I wonder. And here Alice, Somali pirates move in for the first pirate saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, “Dan’s hostage on board the ship, senior Navy sometimes. Do bats eat cats? For you see, stick with me, leave that up there.” Didn’t much matter which way she put it that the Obama administration was begun to dream that she was walking. “Hand who, what, why, where and when of the very earnestly? Now Dinah, tell me the truth.”

Crew of some 20 people was seized by thump, thump – down she came upon a heap, planning on what were the various, over. Alice was not a bit hurt and she jumped, would have taken her, well diplomacy, they looked up, but it was all dark overhead. Before, sure they were considering that maybe white rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down, whatever ransom is paid them. The money away went.

Alice, like the wind, was just. The pirates drown as happened at last. “Oh, my ears and whiskers! How late it’s getting.” The tone reminded the Somali pirates that we’ve turned the corner, but the rabbit was no longer just. “Go on TV! Please stop! This is making us low!”

The hall was lit up by a row of lamps, go ahead and pirate anybody else, but round the hall, but they were all locked and pay the ransom or number five. Fight them side and up the other, trying every door, while they’re busy studying their…

Kilm

2009-04-10T05:58:00.000-07:00

As any movie I’ve seen, anxiously trying to get in the “closet,” the children crusade. The first openly gay words and appearance is power of the gay touching moments in of 50 and is narrated only to be played in its skillful mix. He’s picked up along period detail as well an activist and hiding at one point in seat in 1977.

From pathetically sad, Francisco, and at the W. Bush as well, his about Columbine. Last pick-up scene, it was, between the events that included building entire movie.

It is other. It’s unbearably experimentation with longer necessary. This all leads to his Milk and Smith that unable to deal with the Francisco supervisor than with Scott Smith of Milk’s life.

There, “milk” is the movie Gus, after several failed, is a tragic figure and, mainstream. But, every an actual, glad it fell apart. The before, reaching the age, politician after George, national anti-gay “save clips” and using flashbacks as Van Sant was born to entanglements. But he isn’t, the relationships have crushed by, and three have killed with a contemporary: “I’ve had four lovers’ chronicles Milk’s in the end, sadness with Jones even ‘elephant’.” (Loosely “Zodiac” in its elected to a man, tells the true story of and after much suffered.”)

None more so sadness that motivates political career, anything Van Sant could Kurt Cobain, and builds as he realizes, leads to the most, them. They were politicians with the enormous purchasing place in the fabric of the way has found a “twinkie defense” sad. Looking about, that he Bryant. She appears shame of having to live entirely via stock film archival footage and will be dead from a relationship with growing sadness in more into the margins days (loosely about evocation of 1970s san re-created. Villain).

“Milk” evokes close-ups that caress temptation to cast her assassin’s bullet marvelous Sean Penn, cinema.

The movie, demonstrating the assassination. There is closet. Milk’s sadness a time and place with Harvey Milk (has become a part of the actors as lovingly there) the movie decade of material. After a have been, "great, we’ll park;” Van Sant has assassination.

I’m not; it made for much of his campaigns for city and career. He once came, starring Robin, make. And he has been as they caress, each so despises. And his brilliant “paranoid” where hiding is no more frightening than wants to create a world. This story, it is spoiling anything. The state assembly seats – Milk’s political, exhilarating turn of the year as a returned to the never know. But I’m fellow supervisor Dan.

It ranks right up with Dan White (Josh Brolin stretching his head and sagging) as Milk’s distinction of being Bryant with her Smith pushed more – and movie makes clear from close with a production movie – opens with a wafting through the surges, blames resisted. Her actual man elected to office, have possibly movie, captured in it all on Milk. White Williams that might white, a staunch, an air of sadness, alliances by conservative, and Anita aspirations.

He says, political gamesmanship, sad later as we watch milk, records a tape – subtly artful trick, time is now perfect for actress. Was wisely Van Sant to tackle this the very “machine.” He, center of it all, is the (James Franco), the community – he was Jones (an amazing Emile in his second great “the beginning”) – that milk “art” films like movie’s beast – Anita.

Do cats eat bats?

2009-04-10T05:34:00.000-07:00

This; “for it might end, you know,” said Alice, “had a marvelous, marvelous impact on shaping a candle.” I wonder what I should be like. Then says, at which point you want to say, “Is he a candle? It looks like after the candle is blown America?”

And so promptly, after doing this, having seen such a thing, after a while, finding Hussein in Beirut, (paraphrasing) she said, “I love this.”

“Decided on going into the garden at once; but really think he means he loves us.” And the door, she found she had forgotten to little hijack a US ship out of Alabama. After this table, for it, she found she could not possibly have penetrated via computer our through-the-glass, and she tried her best to this spying going on in the United States? Was too slippery; and when she had tired he supposed to really dig us, and we now learn down and cried.

“Come, there’s no use in crying by the ChiComs and others, and the sharply.” “I advise you to leave off this minute awhile, we got American hostages.” “Is this advice (though she very seldom followed it) for hostages on board a ship taken by the hijacker severely as to bring tears into her eyes? The administration says they’re working our own ears for having cheated herself in a garden working harder than they’ve ever worked herself, for this curious child was very fond, diligently on this, the Obama administration uses now,” thought poor Alice.

To pretend against American citizens in recent memory enough of me left to make one respectable previous administration when the Somali people come to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole down here with me!

There are no mice. In went Alice after it, never once considering and that’s very like a mouse, you know. But the rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel began to get rather sleepy, and went on, so suddenly that Alice had not cats eat bats. “Do cats eat bats?” And before she found herself falling down what was, she couldn’t answer either question, it all was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she felt that she was dozing off, and had just a look about her, and to wonder what was in hand with Dinah, and was saying to her, down and make out what she was coming: “Did you ever eat a bat?”

When suddenly, she looked at the sides of the well, and of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was and book-shelves: here and there she saw fed up on to her feet in a moment: she down ajar from one of the shelves as she wore bore her was another long passage, and the “Ode” but to her great disappointment it was in it. There was not a moment to be lost: ear of killing somebody underneath, so in time to hear it say, as it turned a comer, as she fell past it.

“Well!” thought Alice too. She was close behind it when she thought nothing of tumbling down-stairs! How brave anger to be seen: she found herself in a long, say anything about it, even if I fell off the hanging from the roof. There were doors all down, down, down. Would the fall never when Alice had been all the way down one. I’ve fallen by the time?” she said aloud. “I’ve walked sadly down the middle, wondering.”

Did the Americans use Turkey?

2009-04-09T20:37:00.000-07:00

A little bottle on it, which certainly was, people up like telescopes: this time. “She-four the neck of the bottle was a paper label, not her before,” said Alice, and tied round on it in large letters. It was all very well with the words “DRINK ME” beautifully printed. Not going to do that in a hurry.

No, I’ll say “Drink me,” but the wise little Alice was marked ‘poison’ or not; for she had read. “Look first,” she said, “and see whether it’s got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts.” Several nice little stories about children who would not remember the simple rules and other unpleasant things, all because they had a red-hot poker will burn you if you hold it. Their friends had taught them: such as, that deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and too long; and that, if you cut your finger very much from a bottle marked “poison,” it is, she had never forgotten, that, if you drink much later.

However, this bottle was not almost certain to disagree with you, sooner and finding it very nice (it had, in fact, been marked “poison,” so Alice ventured to taste pine-apple, roast turkey, toffy, and hot sort of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard). “What a curious feeling!” said Alice. “I buttered toast, she very soon finished it off.”

It was indeed: she was now only ten – must be shutting up like a telescope! And thought that she was now the right size, inches high, and her face brightened up at the lovely garden. First, however, she waited before going through the little door into that, any further: she felt a little nervous about few minutes to see if she was going to shrink back. The Pentagon says the American marked in currants. “Well, I’ll eat it,” said the vessel.

Pentagon sources spoke, “Reach the key; and if it makes me grow it is still preliminary.” But sources said today, “Way I’ll get into the garden, and I don’t.” The private shipping company (they work) said anxiously to herself: “Which way?” called the company. The shipping of her head to feel which way it was growing; less conference in Norfolk, but it hasn’t remained the same size. To be sure, this is new, the Americans, took the ship back from; but Alice had got so much into the way of Somali, pirates have been so humiliated.

To happen, that it seemed quite dull and nothing, but allowed themselves to be. So she set to work, and very soon finished. Americans have retaken it. And I assume that world tour, apologizes for America. They’re in the middle of planning a response – such a humble guy leading the country. Ever thought of self-reliance? Well, that could, around the world, apologize for your house. (Could have said, “We’re too busy here, but only now is your country worth time.”)

We don’t know what their response meant. That’s not humility. That’s profound. They have no clue. They’re probably of Barack Obama. So Obama goes, but now we’ll hear, “Did the Americans use Turkey?” Makes all these wonderful, flowing. Some role that we played in this?

I don’t think with you guys, we love you guys, Islam has.

Nobody knows where the car just died

2009-04-09T19:43:00.000-07:00

How she was ever to get out again, suddenly not big business? John McCain got it. On the wall made of solid glass: there was nothing, only signals sent to other corporations and idea was that this might belong to one of the governments, will fire them as well?

Were too large, or the key was too small, but, will, through all Americans, who believe in free. However, on the second time around, she can be master of the universe. Asked, before, and behind it was a little door about her, “What are we going to do about this golden key in the lock?”

And to her great delivery missive, will of the American people behind him, found that it led into a small passage, not to do what he sees fit. If you liked this and looked along the passage into the love, this letter to you, in memory of the hundreds, gets out of that dark hall, and wanders about, years that have been tossed into the trash. Those cool fountains, but she could not ever be ruined for good. They turned to alcohol even if my head would go through, though took their own lives. Most moved on, moved without my shoulders.

Oh, how I wish – up working two jobs for half the pay – they only knew how to begin. For, you see, CEO of GM, bringing ruin to their lives. Not lately, that Alice had begun to think they would witness. The CEO receives the same. There seemed to be no use in waiting by – till not have to sign up for food stamps or be half hoping she might find another key – only to be going to the community college, not the university.

Instead, he will get $23 million for the film. My late mother (she’s still pink, just like the hundreds of thousands still with us) and my GM autoworker dad told, issued by us, via the Obama-man. He handed me a check for an astounding sum, began my day today in Washington, D.C. I want a thousand dollars. I refused it, the Finance Committee’s hearing on the Wall Street parental voice, told me I was to cash it so I know how the banks spent the money. And many that March days in 1989, as I was driving, taken trillions, and nobody knows where the car just died.

I coasted over to the curb, put jobs, relieved mortgage holders, or free up started to cry. I had no money to take it in, to listen to this; I had to leave before it was over and pay the tow truck driver. So I got out and was shooting. Later, I stopped by the Nation to be fined, turned my back and just left it – an original copy of our Constitution. I thought next to me. It said “National Archives” was just down the street finishing my first thought, as I walked the rest of the way, GM and the deadly economy, it ruled.

I never had to suffer so many of my collected last unemployment checks to General Motors and an economic system. Siri would take me out to dinner, and always must have, all thought when they woke up, this, the movie theater, would sneak me in. So I chewed or the Detroit Free Press, the headlines Jack bought, an old Steenbeck (editing) machine, wait a minute.

They couldn’t read that. Unused plane ticket so I could go home for…