Saturday, November 28, 2009


Blog post # 19:

Is this question self-referential?

Anyhow, if consciousness is the self-referentialness (a word?) of the mind, and self-referentialness leads sometimes to logic paradoxes (as in the famous line, "This statement is a lie."); then perhaps consciousness leads to logic-paradoxes. Sometimes (sometimes) we see beyond those paradoxes, however. (ie: common sense.)
Maybe this is the true power of the mind. Cutting the crap.

The mind is ultra-logical, beyond logic.

(Then some people can't even handle regular old thinking 'hard' about stuff....)


There are only two kinds of people in the world --

Me and everyone else.

(I would suppose that as far as most people are concerned, "me" can refer to any one individual, and the above would be true.)


Doing math, and observing religion and politics, I have come to the conclusion that:

NO MATTER HOW CERTAIN you are of any "fact" (even if you are even more sure than you might be that 1 = 1), NO MATTER HOW SURE you are, you could still very well be completely and totally wrong.



Maybe one reason I am celibate is that having sex or even dating would violate my definition of myself. For, I am the celibate one.

It actually would be immoral for me to date a woman. I am so hideously ugly that letting a woman love me -- if that is possible -- would be a sin.

And besides, being in love is conformist and makes me depressed, SO depressed.

(No thank you, ladies.)


I notice that my adult life is divided into phases. When I lived on my own in Colorado Springs, I was a songwriter, and I did some drawings. The first couple of years in Denver was my artistic phase, and did more drawings. Then I did nothing for a while. Then I was in my mathematical phase for a long time. (Mathematics was a creative outlet.) Now I am primarily a maker of computer art. And I write some poetry. And I now don't do that much math at all. I wonder what I will become in the future...


Can a non-conscious being wonder if it is conscious? Would a being have to have experienced consciousness, at least somewhat, to know enough of what consciousness is to ask if it exists in the being's mind?
(Can a non-conscious being truly wonder anything anyway?)


Thinking is just talking to yourself VERY quietly.

I only THINK I am psychotic.


What really bothers me about full-scale nuclear war, or the Earth being destroyed by a black hole or vacuum decay, is that nothing will survive us. If aliens came to our solar system 1000 years from now, there would be no trace of humanity at all. No art, no science, no mathematics, not even any preserved junk mail to show for our deceased civilization. Even the insects and bacteria, in the case of a black hole or vacuum decay, will not be given the chance to evolve and to rediscover what we have lost. All will vanish of what we were. All that you have ever cared about, loved, created, and worked for will cease to exist.

We will have lived for nothing.


What good is a dream that is forgotten?

(Stillborn dreams.)


I want to share my art, music, mathematics, poetry. I don't worry about people "stealing" it or using it as a basis for their own creations.
Creations of the mind are beauty, meant to be shared.


Reality can be color-by-numbers.

But mathematics can be number-by-the-colors.


(All of the above text in this post was composed between Oct 1998 and Aug 2000, with changes and rewrites done today.)


Leroy Quet

Monday, November 23, 2009

Pass Into Pasts

Blog post # 18:

All of the below in this post, except the puzzle and poem at the end of this post, was written in the late 1980's and in the 1990's.


Thought is to emotion as form is to color....


.... form and color of the artwork of the soul,
the soul, whose existence is proved by dreams,
dreams of corkscrew time-warps,
and of wind-powered trains and surreal machines.


In another universe, the [analog] TV's get blurry when they are tuned slightly off a station.

Below zero-focus.


I want to build a wind-up digital watch.

And are there any Siamese triplets?


Gazing at the shadows rearranging themselves upon the walls,
rearranging themselves upon the light.


Reality: It is the absence of dreams. Dreams contain the soul, but the soul dwells in reality, but never knows it. That's what TV is for: to outline reality by casting its shadow on our perceptions.


Short story:

Dave at recording studio: "Hey, let's put some subliminal-messages in the next album we record."
Mark: "Yeah, good idea. Let's have them make chicks listening get horny and have everyone who is listening reject society's values."
Dave: "Cool."
Later: Store manager: " Hey, Tom. I have to cut down on shoplifting at my store somehow. What should I do?"
Tom: "At my store, Wes, we put subliminal-messages into the background music. Not only do the messages cut down on shoftlifting, but they also tell people shopping in my store to buy a lot."
Wes: "And these subliminal messages work?"
Tom: "Sales have been up this last year. Shoplifting has never been lower."
Wes: "Good idea. I'll try them."

The store manager installs the subliminal message mixer into the store's PA. But he carelessly loses his easy-listening tape and must ask his shelver Troy to loan him a tape in the meantime.

Troy: "Fine. But I don't think the customers will like this kind of music."

Wes: "I don't care. I'm desperate."

The tape is Dave and Marks latest...

Customers don't seem affected at first, except shocked that hardcore punk is being used as background music in a grocery store. The subliminal messages already in the music mix with the subliminal messages added by the grocery store.



Val, the customer, can't help it. She starts taking food cans off of the shelves and rubbing them all over her body erotically.
Sam customer thinks shoplifting is socially acceptable and does it to impress his girlfriend's parents.
People in the store start getting aggressive and begin fighting.
Soon the melee turns into a full riot as customers begin looting and trashing the store.
One man shoots someone.
The cops are called. But they hear the music too. They become sexual towards females in the store. Then they start shooting.
The riot is now full-scale. A TV station comes by to check on what is happening. But as the reporter does a live remote, the tape can still be barely heard in the background.

Those watching the newscast begin committing crimes and assaulting people. The story makes the national news. The US president is watching the newscast and subliminally hears the tape during a replay of the remote from the store. He then launches a nuclear war because he thinks it will get him elected. Everyone dies.
The end. ;)


It's like nothing you have ever seen before!

It's invisible.


Doing mathematics is like trying to solve a maze. One path leads to another, leading still to another, etc. It is not known if an approach taken will lead to the desired solution, will lead to some other beautiful result, or will lead to a dead end.


The mind is infinite in power. Proof: The chance of two randomly picked real numbers being exactly equal is a smallest value of 0%. (There are actually more real numbers than integers and fractions, as proved by someone else a long time ago.) But I can say, let x = pi. Let y = pi also. Or I could have instead gone, x = 1 and y also = 1. Presto. I have done the impossible! I have let two real numbers equal exactly the same thing.

Two real numbers picked completely at random are, of course, never the same. But the conscious act of setting the second number to the value of the first transcends all probability. Moral of the story: Consciously picking a number is not a (completely) random process.


I wish I didn't dream (the kind done during sleep). My least favorite time of the day is when I sleep. I hate the illusion, the deception, the anti-logic my mind produces while I am dreaming. It is Hell.


Okay, I will now post two poems. The first I post here is one of the very first poems I have ever written.

The second poem I post below I just wrote today. Compare and contrast.

(This poem was written in the late 1980's. It has been slightly edited since then.)

Red Light, Evil Light

In the tortured ghost-town of Earth
By the downtown graffiti-covered Wailing Wall, she waits.
Red light, evil light, outlined eyes, outlined mouth.
She talks with the Marilyn Monroes inside her.
But she can’t watch the afternoon soaps,
Since the Ultimate Television’s diagonal-hold has already gone insane.

She knows when the End will come,
The Nuclear Rapist, the massing armies,
The children who kill--
The children, who follow blind conformity
To the death music.
Art is evil.
We hear the mind pollution,
Music is evil.
In a different universe they ban the books about little taco-eating rodents.
Art is evil.
The Corpus fits the Itch.
Confused by insight.

Thought is to emotion as form is to color,
Form and color of the Artwork of the Soul,
The Soul, whose existence is proved by dreams,
Dreams of wind-driven trains and surreal machines.

In Oblivion I play the video game
On the video screen inside my brain.
I’m having so much fun
In Oblivion.

So, Nazi-50’s family, and virgin prostitutes, and overcoat ushers,
And erection criminals, and the vile and filthy youth of today,
And the outspoken madmen,
March in the parade,
Salute your idols as you pass them,
Salute your Mortal Goddesses.

They come to us in movies and on t.v.,
Beauty-marks, red hair, blonde hair,
Virgin Prostitutes, cramming, fucking in red, blue, and green.

And God sent to Earth, to save us from ourselves,
His daughter,
And we all promptly raped Her.

Who are the Daughters of God?
Angels? Whores?
The Girls of Light and Pure Image?
Or those of Uncertain Truth and Invisible Beauty?


(Written today.)

And In The Inflection

A sigmoid loop
Placed forwardly and tilted somewhat,
This is indeed an alluring allusion. For,
It sweeps from depth to thinness, and then it
Curls into its own concavity; then it flies
As a winged thorn thrust diagonally against
Geometry and extroversion. Ah, then it spirals
As a tube, as an existential cylinder, yes.
But this strap is round; it is sustained via
Its blurry glass. Oh, it is truly slender, and
It is falsely an insect. Yes, its sorrow is
Compromised by apathy. Yet such a configuration
Is only a quasi-knot; it is only mentally drawn
As dissected semicircles and bisected corpses.

And in the inflection, there is nothingness.
Ha, there in that crook, there is simplicity made
From perfume and parentheses. Yes, in this sigmoid
Loop are the serpentine arpeggios of maniacs,
Are those enumerations of wonder, of twine
Thereafter angry and therefore virtuous.


And finally:

Each of the (all relatively easy) answers to this puzzle is a palindrome.
The number in parentheses is the number of letters in the answer.

All answers are of two words, except the last two answers, which are 3 words and the last is 4 words.

As an example, the answer to number 1 is "DUMB MUD".

1: Stupid wet dirt (7).

2: Really cursedly angry (7).

3: Mediocre hip-hop (6).

4: A museum where you can find molds, algae, and slimes (7).

5: A place where you can buy cable cars (8).

6: A quality holster can keep your ____ ____ (7).

7: Wildebeest poop (7).

8: If I get the jitters in the morning, whether I like it or not, I may need to ____ ____ (9).

9: Bait or a noose or a pit or the spikes in the pit, for example (8).

10: If your lawsuit against Poseidon fails, you may want instead to ____ ____ (7).

11: One who tells fibs about the train tracks (8).

12: These times, we are afraid of. For, this ____ ____ ____ (11, 3 words).

13: In the game, I can either sketch the incorrect shape or I can give my opponent 1 dollar. In other words, I can ____ ____ ____ ____ (17, 4 words).

Leroy Quet

Saturday, November 21, 2009


Blog post # 17:

The soul doesn't squish when you step upon it, as I used to believe.
Instead it crunches.


Number poem:



Speaking of pi:
In a way, the light-blue circle in the image below is the "center" of the larger circle. Or is it also a circumference? Or is it also the radius? Is it a palindrome? Has it been scrawled by a compass of a thousand tangents?


Pistachios = booger nuts.
(Hey, that's what they look like!)


I was thinking of exactly zero 0's.

(That's why you can't trust my thoughts.)

Is the concept of implication then implied, however?


Okay, I don't watch TV anymore, but I guess that this is definitely already an old idea.

Suggested name for a show about finding love:

"Single File".


Ah, Fall: When the hourglass' sands descending are the yellowed leaves.
Winter: When these sands are icy snowflakes.
Spring: When the pastel droplets of rain are those grains of sand.
Summer: When the clear night sky contains the stars that are those sands again.


Gaze upon the glass from which sand is spun.


I speak, as before,
in zero-person singular.



If one can "sign off on" something,
can one also "sign on off" something?


Why do parents use their kid's full name when the kid is in trouble, and also the media uses an alleged mass-murderer's full name in reports about that alleged murderer?

"Earl Wayne Harshel was arrested today for the murder of 10 college-aged women."
But when Earl was a tike, "Earl Wayne Harshel! You are in so much trouble. Say sorry to your sister!"


Dumb joke: One cowboy is counting his cattle: "1 and a half, 2 and a 1/3, 3 and 3/4....". The other cowboy goes, "Hey Jake, why you usin' fractions to count ya head?"
Jake goes, "I can always round em up later."


If you believe in the possibility of there being a "just war", then you get...


Everthing (sic) = all that lasts forever.


Pro-environmental slogan:

Protect America's NATURAL security!


I dream of strange toilets and familiar strip-malls.


Seen again in such sleep: A yellowish purple.



Placebo drugs are ... pharma-pseudo-cals.


Those who would rip up the Constitution to "fight terror" are...


Easy puzzle: What seven-letter palindrome represents stupid wet dirt?
(If you can't get this, then you are it!...)

Answer in the comments to this post.


Leroy Quet

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Forwards, Backwards

Blog post # 16:

Just two things today.


This picture of extraterrestrials makes me go "Hmmmmm".
What kind of advantages do ETs have over we human-beings when it comes to language? After all, if we terrestrials don't shape up, the ETs will kick our ass in the universal economic game!

So, in order to give terrestrials a fighting chance, I propose the following advance in our written language.

Take the following sentence:

He was either sad or happy and hungry or thirsty.

Was he both happy and hungry, or maybe sad, maybe thirsty? Or was he definitely either hungry or thirsty, but he may have been sad or may have been happy but was definitely either sad or happy?
What? Huh?...

So, I propose that the brackets {} be liberally inserted around clauses in sentences to be used to help clarify complex writing. (The {} sort of act like directional commas. Nesting bracketed clauses within bracketed clauses within bracketed clauses... is definitely allowed.)

So, the sentence can become:

He was {either sad or happy} and {hungry or thirsty}.

Or it may be

He was either sad or {happy and {hungry or thirsty}}.

So, this last sentence would mean that:

He may have been sad, but maybe he was happy instead. And if he was happy, he definitely was hungry or thirsty.

If we have very complex sentences -- with bracketed clauses within bracketed clauses within bracketed clauses, etc -- then incredibly complex ideas can be clearly expressed. Ergo, humanity's overall intelligence increases!

This idea has simpler applications too. You have all heard the old joke about the "purple people eaters". Are the people purple, or are the eaters purple?

No more ambivalence! Just add brackets.

{purple people} eaters.


purple {people eaters}.

Oh, how has humanity survived so long without this advance?!...

Remember, they are out there...


Okay, I will post something a little more depressing.

Torture (ow!) is more acceptable to Americans now than at any other time since the US ratified treaties against it.
And Americans gave a big "ho-hum" to the fact that a war was started recently based on lies.

So, what will then, I wonder, be acceptable to Americans someday soon?

Some possibilities:

Slavery (especially if who is enslaved is based on race).
Execution of innocent VICTIMS of crimes, especially the rape-victims.
Full-scale nuclear war.
Medical experiments on human non-volunteers.
Death camps and genocide.
Killing of homosexuals and the disabled.
Forced religion.
Thought surveillance.
Total environmental destruction.
Killing of the poor.
Outlawing of all forms of entertainment.
Lobotomies for dissidents.
An end to all benign science.

Etc etc etc.

There are strong forces that are trying to impose this all on us.

Welcome to what may indeed be our future.

Stay tuned...
Leroy Quet

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Metaphorical Phosphors

Blog post # 15:

I wrote this today. It sucks, I know. But I don't have many ideas of what to post today, and I don't feel like going back and looking for a better poem of mine.

Travesty Of Metaphors

A travesty of metaphors, these loci coil as
My thoughts, becoming the petals rising from
An unquiet blossom. But such riddles are mistaken.
Yes, these realities assumed, they become parables
Made elegant, made elaborate and yet overcome.

Thus, the dreams concur with simultaneousness.
Yes, they cooperate so as to glisten in their
Wiggling. However, each such metaphorical atrocity
Only exists in its idioms now conceived illiterately.

Ah, through the scribbles and stems of that epitome
Of hypotheses, of parentheses, these conjectured
Images become entwined. For, we partook in
Despised but inertial prose, and we partake anew
In poetry simply arrayed, simply arranged into
Grids and their silt, arranged into these
Hideous allegories of flowers wilting as rust,
Wilting as all riddles and all postulates
Incorrectly paraphrased.


Speaking of riddles: What seven-letter *palindrome* is a phrase for a museum that displays molds, fungi, and algae?

I will post the answer today in the comments to this post.


All of the enemies of the U.S. -- the terrorists, the Communists, the Fascists before them -- should be labled the T.H.E.M..
U.S. and T.H.E.M..
What would T.H.E.M. stand for, I wonder? Terribly Hideous Enemies of Mediocrity?


(By the way, notice how I ended the 2nd sentence above with two periods. I have the opinion that if someone ends a sentence with an abbreviation, then the sentence should end with two periods. This probably won't be confused with an ellipsis, which usually consists of at least three periods.)


"!!!" would be "punk-tuation".


An elaborate labyrinth would be an "elabyrinth".


"Megascopic": Too big to see.



What is beautiful to me?

Mathematics, the color fuchsia, rainbows, the cosmos, nature on Earth, women, art, music, poetry, virtue, intelligence, circles and spheres, imagination sometimes, dreams sometimes, reality sometimes.

What is ugly to me?

Evil, war, hate, torture, crime and other violence, dishonesty, pollution, foolishness, sickness, imagination sometimes, dreams sometimes, reality sometimes.


That's all for today.
Leroy Quet

Wednesday, November 11, 2009


Blog post # 14:

The pictures are newer, but all text below in this post was conceived between July 2003 and August 2003.


There are soap-bubbles filled with air floating in air, and there are bubbles filled with air floating in water. Are there bubbles of water floating in water?


A mathematician's grandfather is his/her "hyper-father" or
is his/her "father of order 2".


Why was the perfume vending-machine not working?

It was out of odor...


The priesthood: The confession profession.


If the polls falsely show that Americans prefer to live in a dictatorship, then we live in a...
poll-lies state.


Depressing palindrome: Decaf I faced.


Blurry wounds of Christ:


We are deceived via the lies
of the media's eyes.


[Remember, this joke is from 2003.]
The Supreme Court has reaffirmed the right of Americans to be hedonistic, lustful, and promiscuous.
The vote was 5-4. Sandra Day O'Connor was the swinger-vote...


[Dirty joke alert! Dirty joke alert!]

What is worse than a used condom?

An UNUSED condom!...


[Another dirty joke alert!]

Why was the man "red-in-the-cheeks" when his pants fell down in public?

Answer: He was em-bare-assed!...


Perhaps human beings should do as dogs and urinate on fire-hydrants.
Perhaps we don't know how grand it is!


A gathering of religious people is...
a convention of conviction.


A "difficult" actor is a .... cele-brat-y.


There is exactly one reason for every problem I suffer...




Lingerie name: (Did I hear of this before?)
"Under Dare".

Ad: "What kind of underwear do you wear?"
"Under Dare."
"Under where?"
"Under Dare underwear."


10 Commandments misremembered:

"Thou shalt not covet another man's gods other than Me!"
"Thou shall honor thy father and mother's adultery!"


A comedian-politician would give a "sound-bit" to the media.
(A sound-bit is 1/8 as long as a sound-byte...)


As a bug in a urinal...
We are inevitably doomed!...


Are the dreams avoidable?
Must I always be violated by their beauty?


Bush is the hush-hush lush over whom we gush.
[Remember again, this was in 2003.]


Ice-cream flavor: Double butter: peanut butter and butterscotch.


[Dirty joke alert! Dirty joke alert!]

What did the man say when he was arrested for having an erection in public?

"Oh, now that's SWELL!"...


Joke: What did the villagers say when they saw the new-born Jesus being carried on a donkey?

"Hey, look at the babe on that ass!"...


Leroy Quet

Monday, November 9, 2009

Hypnotic Hippies & Gargling Gargoyles

Blog post # 13:


(Blogging is like being naked in public.)


All stuff in this blog-post below was written between late November 2007 and mid September 2008.


Why is there such a thing as hot spicy peanuts,...
but not hot spicy peanut butter?

(To be honest, the idea of hot spicy peanut butter makes me nauseous. But I like hot spicy peanuts a lot.)


Why do we put butter on baked potatoes,...
but there is no such thing as butter-flavored potato chips?


Do dogs and cats have "people peeves"??


Did you hear about how my pancreas was telling my lungs something funny about my liver??

I didn't get it because it was an inside joke....


Hook for a blues song:

Yes, I wish I lived in better times.
I'm going to change all my pennies into dimes.
I'm going to change all my pennies into dimes.


Tongue twister:

The tadpole in the toad pool is a tad pale.


Close your eyes and see...

Hypnotic hippies and gargling gargoyles.



You're such a fool, you don't even know how to drool.


Something can be temporarily temporary (temporary now, but later it will be permanent), permanently permanent ( a redundancy), or permanently temporary (always intermittent). But I don't think anything can be temporarily permanent. (I guess I should be grateful for that.)


Break-up song:

I'm better than you.
I'm better than you.

Well, I'll tell you a thing or two.
But what you tell me is never true.
I've been faithful, don't you see.
But you've been cheatin' on me.

I'm better than you.
I'm better than you.

You laugh at me and put me down.
But I'm here to turn it around.
You didn't take anything seriously.
So, I say, good riddance, now I'm free.

I'm better than you.
I'm better than you.

You were in it just for fun.
Now I'm a better person because we're done.


Even when it is raining, I avoid the sprinklers.

(And WHY are everyone's sprinklers always going during a rain storm, anyway?)





You notice how bite-sized candy bars are labeled as "fun size"?
Why would LESS candy be fun??
What would be fun is MORE candy!


Leroy Quet

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Count On It

Blog post # 12:

First, another whimsical picture, so as to continue the theme (whimsy) from the last blog post:

This picture seems unoriginal to me, in that I swear I have seen rainbow-ladybugs somewhere sometime before I made the picture.

And though the picture is whimsical, I do not feel like joking today. (Or more accurately, I can't remember any of my jokes right now.)

Hmmm. Okay, here are two dumb jokes that I think most people who know me have already heard:

Why was the cigarette smoking-mad????

Because it was the butt of this joke!...


What happened to the square-shaped car when it got in an accident?

It became a wreck-tangle!....


Okay, something of more substance:


When I think of truth, I do not think of what people usually refer to by the word "Truth": something that is believed to be true just because someone else said it was true. (As in, ""THE Truth"", thunderclap!)

I instead define the truth as that which is real, whatever that is, whether I believe in it or not.
I think that was the original definition of truth. So, you could say I am a Platonist -- where Platonism is a mathematical philosophy that states that mathematical objects (shapes, numbers, theorems, etc) exist outside of the human perception of them. (They are REAL, even if we are not.)

So, I think that 'what is' exists outside of human understanding.

But... quantum physics states that the observer is an important element in the nature of what is observed. But even then, quantum physics itself exists outside of our understanding of it. Or does it?

And in any case, the observer only has miniscule affect on what is observed. Yet, in some situations (Schrodinger's Cat, for example [Google it]), the observer is indeed very important to the observation and to the REALITY of what is observed.

*(Hmmmm... Maybe liberals observe Schodinger's Cat as dead, and conservatives see it as alive... or vice versa, or versa vice.)


Okay, I swore I would not post math ever on this blog, but I want to post this "guess the number sequence puzzle" here anyway.

(Really simple math.)

Here are the starting terms of a number sequence:

1, 1, 2, 4, 2, 6, 2, 12, 2, 10, 2, 34, 2, 14, 2, 20, 2, 24, 2, 54, 2, 22, 2, 70, 2, 26, 2, 46, 2, 46, 2, 36, 2, 68, 2, 94, 2, 38, 2, 74, 2, 62, 2, 70, 2, 138,....

Now, as with all these "guess the sequence" IQ-test-style questions, there are an INFINITE number of descriptions for the sequence (of a finite number of terms) that are valid.
But, try anyway to find the rule that generates this sequence.

If you discover a rule that pops out the sequence I gave, whether it is what I intended or not, then you still win.

Here are some clues:

*All odd-numbered (odd-indexed) terms, not including the first, are equal to 2.
*All terms, except the first two (which are both 1), are even.
*The intended rule uses only addition and involves division somehow.
*The n-th term is computed using terms that occur earlier in the sequence, and uses the value of n somehow.

I have given too many clues. I will post the answer in a few days in the comments to this post. I doubt anyone will try to solve this, but maybe YOU will try to solve this and succeed!


Leroy Quet

Wednesday, November 4, 2009


Blog post # 11:

Today's pictures are of a happy lot, yes.
(Except that the butterfly is enclosed and not free.)


I should use the word "pinch" in a poem...
Or failing that, I should use the word "poem" in a pinch.


I'll never get married. But still, if I did, my preference (got to talk to the Mrs-to-be about this first) would be for BOTH of us to change our names legally to something else, a common name that neither of us yet possesses.

That kind of sounds romantic to me -- a new life together and all. And, in any case, my current last name is my parent's. Hey, my MOM is Mrs [my current real last name inserted here]...


I don't want a funeral when I die. I hate going to funerals. And I don't want my friends and family partying without me and speaking about me out of my presence.


Hey, did you hear about how a electric chair now is powered by a lithium power-cell?

Yeah, the criminals are charged with a salt and battery....


I feel glossy today.


A neutrally-charged atom is an...


Leroy Quet

Monday, November 2, 2009

Beauty And Ugliness

Blog post # 10:

I do not like to post poetry much on this blog, since I have another blog for that, and people don't usually like my poetry anyway.

Yet, even though I have problems with the poem I just wrote today (it is too unoriginal, for one thing. Plus it just sucks. But its suckiness coincides with its topic.), I have decided to post it anyway, among other things in today's post.


Beauty's paw concedes its blubbery bulbousness,
Yes. But it denies its stinging claws. It
Denies its teeth and its concubines. Yet it
Sleeps so as to descend upon us, upon my vast
Ugliness sustained and invariant despite my
Aging transcendence. Oh, beauty tastes me
With her fluids and teases me with her
Wings. But she is atrocious, certainly. Yes,
She is imagined in these vacant spells.
And she gapes and gasps regarding my sour
Viciousness, regarding my hideousness turning
Sideways. Oh, she assumes anew that she is
Praying. And she does pray for her distance.
She pleads for her triumph over such
Grotesque and gross depictions of my mind.
Yes, she flees unto the night's horizon.
And she hides from my light, from my
Revolting parameters each un-alphabetized,
Each inadvertent and innocently malicious.


Yes, the word "bulbousness" does not appear in my dictionary. Neither does "un-alphabetized". But I think it is obvious what they mean. So, I use those words anyway. Again I piss off the pedants. That doesn't bother me, truly.

(That's uncorrect! (sic), the pedants might say.)


Some typewriter-palindrome 'art':



I forgot my friend's birthday, even though I thought every day for a week before it that I had to call her. Then when the day itself came, I forgot all about the concept of birthdays for days until I was reminded this morning.

Sorry, S!
Happy birthday!