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What the !@#$%^&*()
The TDPM is back, for like... months. Holy Lord Mel Gibson Son Of Gaud, do I ever not use the web much anymore!!!

This is a log entry from my knogin (note, the mass of thoughts concerning sex have been removed for the purposes of content):

fuck tdpm
- every day posters are fine
- so screw this whole "lookee me, eyes gots something to say and i can post it on the Webby"
- here, have a diploma ya fuckin genius
- daily poetry, wow
- fuck don wan yer crap about the prez
- more about the prez
- lots more... fuck this shit
- click
- ah, kristen's got one up again
- there like a pattern here
- oh wait!
- i do this 2!
- omg
- what if i stole stupid migratory bird and fucken kristen whatever his name is going to be and of course me
- i mean it is all about me
- and put it in one of those portable files and stuck it up as a daily
- i proly not do it every day
- wherez that damn pdf-creator...
- c:\
- ...
- i duno sumbody else maybe
- oh wait, me sumbody else
- must get food, unka
- stupid pdf
- stupid adobe
- fuck that shit
- hey everyone likes pdf
- maybe do it anywayz
- or fuck it, should i get paid for this or something
- i must be hungry still, having crazy thoughts
- pdf thingadoohickey
- oh i know
- must go hack now
- goodbye cruel woild
- gutbye not so cruel world

My brain is one hurtin unit, eh? Sorry about the insults, btw. Stupid brain. But it does something useful every once in a while...

So I have reached past the half-way mark in the third book in what is, I guess (?), a "technology trilogy" (as in the technology of the written word) I started as a kind of joke on myself a dozen years ago.

Suffice to write, it just never went away and just kept growing, like my friend Jazmin (a mini-jade plant).

The weird thing is that I normally have just written poetry, as I am not very literate all the time or well read.

I'm rambling...

Book one was written on paper tech, book two on PC, and book three is on a handheld. So no1 (Dream Journey) has a lot of poetry, a whole book worth (I posted "GO" here, which is a sample of these), but mostly sci-fic/erotica/fantasy. No2 (Sand), though, I had 'converted' to a lyricist, apparently. There is barely any poetry over those seven years... Mostly essay/speech-writing. Now with no3(Exile) it is mostly scriptwriting, but wow... have I ever returned to poetry... basically I was writing a collection of lyric to produce my next music album and, "POW!!!".

My prose has almost always been free prose to the Nth degree, even in lyric. But now, I am rhyming like some sort of hiphopster, whatever is the correct term, left right and centre, one piece a day at times! So weird, after a decade I return to where I began with poetry by rhyming for the first timing.

Sigh, I am still rambling...

Um, so, like, yeah, just to finish that thought, I was thinking, "cool, my lyrics finally fucking rhyme!!!" But guess what? Guess, go ahead. I went to my music, and my music kept telling me to, "fuck off, "! So I am turning to instrumental music at the same time when I am finally writing popular lyrics, metre and rhyme and deep-rhyming (multiply matching rhymes between words within line but no repeating). Weirdness personified is all I can write. Weirdness personified.

Sheesh, so much poetry to catch up on now. :-), ;-), :-).

Free data,
, first-rhymer!

postscript, was planning originally for "Daily Anarchist", but maybe "Indymedia Global" could work? I do not know, but will update you if I and I have some good hacking. Of course, posting it means I have to scale through that copyright jungle... PEACE

k 25.Oct.2004 12:02


always remember--police are evil