While we're on the topic of dicking around, I thought that I should report a drunken impulse that I hatched and carried out at the Underworld music bar (what an emo bar name). As you can see from the previous post, the bathroom walls were plastered with all sorts of graffiti-cartoon faces. So I pulled out a thick drawing pencil from my backpack and made one of them blurt out, in cartoon speech bubble: "T.S. ELIOT HAS NOTHING ON ME."
Are you proud of me?
I just read Allen Ginsberg's Howl and I wish there were 36 hours in a day.
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You shoulda taken a picture.
Also, Ginsberg? Maybe I should try re-reading his postmodern bullshit, I think I may have been too young to appreciate it when I studied it. I don't even think I got to the end of 'howl'.
I'll be sure to revisit the bar and immortalize the quote by sharpie-ing over it!
Yeah it's a little hard to get to the end of Howl without drifting out of focus a little, but the Beatnik platitude of "sheer mad joy" is a real sensation when reading that crazy thing. Incidentally, what Howl was to the Beats, Yowl is to the yupsters (hysterical parody).
I am NOT a kiwi skank.
And yeah I really am gonna start writing stuff come tomorrow, todays' my last 'busy-busy' day. Teaching 6 hours a day is pretty tough sometimes.
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