writers?

i guess it's the whole modern social commentary thing. i've been doing the whole poli sci thing for so many years, and i am just so sick of conspiracy theorists.

 

i want to read those books so bad. ive just been getting into the dystopian literature in the past year or so. ive always thought about what the world will be like when people become so apathetic that mass surveilance and 'big brother' make the move into everyday life. i started writing something about a futuristic state where there are multiple state funded religions (to keep people in control of course) and they wore different colors depending on rank and affiliation.

but i started writing about jesus coming down and building an army to reclaim the jews and i just got really crazy with it

 

ah yeah conspiracy theorists drive me nuts too. There's a conspiracy theory about the disease in my book in fact.

 

i guess it's b/c i live with one. and there is no intelligent backing to most of what they say. but, the rest of is just "accept everything that we are spoonfed without question".

 

If you haven't read brave new world you should... they grow people in test tubes and choose their social rank before they're even born. mine is a bit like brave new world with a twist, because there is this elitist "inside" culture- the ones not infected with the disease - and then there is the outside culture of the infected, and they're all crazy existential artists or hardcore religious people or conspiracy theorists... and all outcasts of the new elitist society that's trying to preserve humankind.

 

I'd like to see a novel where it goes the other way... Where the people completely go anarchist-but in a good way.

 

^i was thinking the same thing while watching a lame ass movie called "dooms day" yesterday. the only thing that's good about the movie is that there are people with locks in it.

 

I read it some years ago, if I remember rightly it was good, but twisted, and the ending was pretty rough? Definitely worth a read though. Hmm maybe I should start reading more again.

 

i used to write poetry a lot and i published my own zine for a while... i have a blog. but i dont update anymore im currently just painting and animating.


The potion sizzled as the pot quickly emptied
As I received her intentions
Because just one thing did she want from me
A simple kiss and she would set me free.

She waddled as she stirred her brew
And for every ingredient the flame fiercely grew.
“Ear of Armenian and a schoolgirl’s shoes
Into this wand do I infuse.”

She laughs a stinking cackle vicious
A sound that only bubbles from brews of witches
In my mouth the fetid smell swirls and swishes
As she sews my lips with just 4 stitches

My whipping tongue and voice was muffled thunder
In a sunken well where lived her humble hunger
By wishing she had suddenly stumbled
Into a kiss of blood with dry scabbed lips of umber.

My crispy layers, with every foot-step she pulls
Peeling slowly from my sizzling onion soul
She left me, burning like a lump of charcoal
A crackling ember, I slowly remember the cold.

Spliff #3,523
Abstraction, when it’s subtlety is a fraction
Of its puddles of action
Can steal you back from Babylon
And your handle on conventional wisdom.
The city is a womb from which I come
Cumming wildly passionately, too many cellos for some
With a beat like the seat cushion, and the Subway hum
The passengers are duplexes and condominiums of
Yuppies, puppies, muppets and all the sheeples I love
Each one a finger traveling in purgatory’s glove
Sit melting in wax, their faces hovering on the traincar’s floor.
(I juest received a fax, each page was a boor.)
My fingerprints are captions, the keys are the doors
[For the need of the herd to ship the weed and the herbs
I’m breeding Dutch helicopters. From seeds into birds.]
Like the creed of the Brujo is a journey through shrooms
Ganja is a dojo where a flower named Jah(bless) blooms.



i read through all the stuff in this thread, but i don't feel the authority to criticize. but its refreshing to know people still write

 

post it and quit telling me about it

 

right now I'm trudging through []Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand... its a really good book but i have to sit and read for a few hours at a time; im not used to it since i usually throw a book away after the first 200 or so pages.

 

no whey bra lets like discuss it on tuesday nights or something

 

The circadian rhythm that sleeps only to be brought forth by the forceful awakening of the third eye the cleansing of the ocular filter the necessary slowing of lights bounding speed, these visions have always been there. They are the paranormal extensions of everyday colors. the vibrant reading if you wish. beware of these beckoning calls though for some want to imprison you to be forever trapped in between the spectrum and the reflection of light. God speed, these are your instructions.

This was included on an artwork I consider it the focus of the piece but I dont have a digital camera handy so I cant post it.

 

I write, but the only decent things I ever wrote were in Spanish the stuff I wrote in english should not be allowed into the light, ir the dark for that matter

 

post it in spanish then

 

Wrote this one just for you guys, out of the bottom of my heart:

The Rhyme of the Lost Child of Mama Africa by BSR.

******, ******, in the sunlight,
Why do you shine so deep?
Your dark skin reflects the sunset,
Of your broken ghetto dreams.
******, ******, oh so silent,
As the gunshot brings on sleep,
Don't blame the white man for your worries,
You're better off here than in a jungle deep.
******, ******, cracked out nightmares,
The heart is weak, but the beat's strong,
The night awaits your blaring laughter,
But child support got you kinda strung.
******, ******, why are you dying,
Smokey Oldsmobile with blaring sound,
The blunt is burning between your fingers,
As the popo finds your hidden mound.
******, ******, you are forsaken,
By your own unquenchable breathe,
You lie with life, and speak of repentance,
Yet black Jesus don't exist.
******, ******, get a job,
Not at Wendy's, but somewhere else,
Starts a savings account, buy a house,
Kill your children, save them the same fate.

 

brilliant

 

also,

white power

 

Nigguh, that's racist.

 

you dont know racist