Sunday, 20 December 2009

'pop' is the sound of S. Cowell's ego exploding

Even though this is a tempest in a tea-cup, I think it's one great slam-dunk in the face of manufactured culture.

The Business plan goes like this:

Simon Cowell starts a talent show.
Simon Cowell signs various of the 'artists' (see them in video1).
Simon Cowell gives the winner a song to sing, so that he/she/it can top the charts at Christmas, the biggest sales period.
Simon Cowell makes money from all of the above.
Simon Cowell 'owns' the Christmas number one, four years running. or should I say 'owned'?

UNTIL this year! It's been announced, a Facebook campaign to buy up Rage Against the Machine's single from 1992 (particularly for its anti-establishment content) has given the now defunct band the CHRISTMAS NUMBER ONE in the UK.

The music charts are of no consequence, especially in these serious times. Also, look at the 350 000 fools who actually bought Cowell's cowpatties at 4 quid each! Don't they have any brains? Aren't they sick of hearing the same old crap in a slightly different guise? Don't they feel manipulated?*

Being that Rage Against the Machine is a band which is much more interested in making people wise to our sick society than the average band, I think they were a good choice (I've named my other blog after one of their songs).

I was glad to see that the single 'Killing in the Name' was being sold for 30 pence, so as not to make much money for Sony. For their part, the band will donate the winnings to Shelter, which is a charity dedicated to providing housing for the poor, in the UK for example.

Which charities does the multi-millionnaire Cowell fund?
Here's the song, chock full of profanity directed at those who would control our behaviour (i.e. conning us into buying sh*tty records). I think that the song reacts to the politeness which is forced upon us every day and which makes us perfect victims for bosses, business and government.
"Fl%&*k you, I won't do what you tell me"
Karoake never felt so good!

-->the lip-sync version

--> the live, audience sing-along version

-Cos67 ~(%^D>
* The music business, far from being about the rebellion that it seems to represent, is all about Robin-Hood-in-reverse redistribution of wealth from the poor-and-stupid to the rich and musical. That's why I never pay full price for any music, preferring car boot sales and charity shop specials. Musicians don't need my help.

Saturday, 19 December 2009

the school of iitchi & saatchi

Byline: School of Saatchi show helps Modernist art trip off its own plinth.

It's amazing how an innocent copy-cat show, feeding off the reality frenzy may actually lead to the art world getting back some semblance of balance between innovation and 'talent'.

If Modernist art is a reaction to the drudgery of old-fart art, like Monet and Manet,
then its driving force is certainly Mon-ey.
However, it has to articulate its raison d'etre, sooner or later. It cannot just be
'I hate that technically-brilliant sh*t'.

However, in this time of rampant bullsh*t in all spheres public, especially in nodes of power and money, modernist artists have avoided being pidgeon-holed themselves, probably because they can feel the rubber glove of shame passing nearby. However, there is a maxim in life that I live by:
As they shat on others, they too shall be shat upon.
It should be in the Bible.
They've pocketed a lot of money in a market driven by investment and investors, like Charles Saatchi. They made their field, their own mythology and their shit did not even stink. They knew that avoiding description was as important as avoiding death. I think these artists' luck is running out, though.

Once the rebels become the institution, then they're ready to get knocked off. Their egos and bank accounts are inflated, and their annihilation is coming, as others can start smelling blood.
I'll give you an example. It's been uncovered that the 'rampant sales figures' of Damien Hirst have been faked by his agent and a particular gallery, in order to keep his prices up.
[pics coming soon]
When British tv put on the School of Saatchi, they used some of the vilified installation artists, like Tracey Emin [pics soon] to judge and critique new, rising artists, and they put some necks in the guillotine, those of the installation artists. (I'll soon post some of the well-considered criticism later)
The basis of it is that when Emin says: "that's a piece of crap", she should know what she's talking about, having been the generator of so much of that sort of stuff herself.
When the chosen professional art critics asked the 'new' artists 'what's the thinking behind the art' before passing judgement on a piece, then they're saying that art is supposed to be an intellectualisation of the world not an expression of passion. In other words, it's not about art, but about 'me so crafty'. Therefore, because modern art now has a defineable belief system, it's a movement like any other, and a piss-poor one, at that.

I think it all started with a French artist's urinal (below). The piss receptacle was presented as art; not as form following function, which would have been more intelligent, just as a reaction to art that actually required talent, or the ability to actually make some handiwork. This guy just went to Plumbings R Us and asked for the ceramics department and then scribbled something on the stand-up unit, in marker. [this begs a feminist response: piddling standing up. Ever seen that at parties?]

-Cos67 ~(%^D>

a writer named muema (see his explanation below in the 'comments') has advised me that the French artist was Marcel Duchamp .
I think he'll agree that what he said proved that modern/Modernist art is far too intellectual and they were more concerned about showing intellect rather than artistic ability or vision, or even passion. They're a bunch of cold fish.

ALSO: in looking for a pic of the Yur-I-nal (as it's pronounced over here) in question, I found this interesting explanation on found art: [comments- Cos67]
"In 1917, when Marcel Duchamp presented a urinal—which he had christened Fountain—as a signed piece of art, he was reacting to the horror of the First World War [ya! it's a Messerschmidt urinal. Get it?-xD Cos67] and the utter collapse of the gentlemanly notions of progress [urinal is better than piss-pot, you know? especially once it's been hooked up to the plumbing- Cos67], beauty and aesthetics that accompanied the slaughter of the generation. [Well, in that case, I hope he chose a used urinal, nice and stinky, with cigarette butts and gum in it. A soldier's skull with a helmet and cigarette would have worked better. or a akak gun shooting blood. -Cos67] Fountain was notorious, and the art world was aghast. Interpretations of Duchamp’s work, and the whole concept of found art, were flowing as freely as an overflowing toilet. But when is a urinal not a urinal? And if it isn’t a urinal, what the hell is it? Fountain was a symbol of ambiguity in very ambiguous times [nice piece of philosophical bullshit]; it is whatever the viewer’s reaction makes it. [How about that for arse-backwards. Now, instead of examining the art, you gotta spend more time examining your own feelings or looking at the people around you in the gallery. Sociopathic sh*t, man. -Cos67] That is the nature of found art."
otherwise known as 'look what the cat dragged in'-xD Cos67]
[Nick Mamatas on]

I still see this as a branch of realia, and not art.

I'm confused. Muema said it was a reaction against art critics! I think the common message to both warmongers and art critics is
"piss on yuz all!" or more simply, "piss off!".
It's the metaphorical equivalent of
the ancient British insult of throwing
the contents of a piss-pot on someone you hate.
The man is brilliant.

--> on
e.g. "[Fountain, the] ready-made urinal has been voted the most influential work of art of all time by 500 art experts."

BBC documentary: The Quest for Beauty

Friday, 4 December 2009

Venice mayor floods out the tourists

[pic- Turner]
The mayor of Venice has been on record saying that he wants day-tourists to get out of 'his' city.

In contrast, tourists want the pidgeons to get out of town, and for the penny-pinching mayor to get their guano off San Marco square.

They both got their wish recently, thanks to global warming, when the city was flooded.

This limited the tourists and cleaned up the god-awful aviary-refuse stench. Floor wax, anyone?

Did you know this city is actually an engineering freak show? Because the islands that make up Venice are little more than sand dunes, every building is ON STILTS. The fronts of buildings are facades which are separate from the rest of the box, so that both can move separately!

-Cos67 ~(%^D>

Wednesday, 2 December 2009

pissing on war monument saves man's life

Byline: young British chap pisses on war memorial, gets arrested and is given community service order. He's REEEALLY sorry.

This event, though really crass, has saved this young fellow many times over.

Firstly, they've shown up a gap between the youth (who see war as an inevitable continuum of spilt blood) and old war-vets (who believe that dead soldiers protected us from danger) on the importance of war memorials. They're everywhere. The Europeans have fought so many stupid wars that perfectly good parkland and parking lots have been filled with ugly cement plinths.
Where's a guy supposed to have a slash in public?
You can't even swing a liquor bottle without hitting a gargoyled depiction of a victim of history.
[pic- ancient wars]
[pic- Vietnamese wars]
[pic- some statues make you feel like going wee-wee]
[pic- some statues even fight back]
Perhaps it's inevitable. Young man sees 'Leaking Lad' his whole life, and on one drunken evening, he acts out on his desire to have himself be immortalised, pissing.

Next, this young man learned that if you can't handle the notoriety, then don't do crazy sh*t in a country full of surveillance cameras and mobile phones. I thought he was going to ride his fame onto Big Brother, or X-Factor, the Jungle or some other Pissing Contest.

The event probably scared the guy off of doing anything outrageous, or even getting piss-drunk in public ever again. To your health, dude!

I think his pink underwear has outed the young man. I don't know which part of this story is going to freak his parents more. Now he doesn't have to go through the uncomfortable conversation where his parents have to stifle their disappointment, and he can make a clean break.

Lastly, a proctologist from the BMA has said that his weak urine stream is indicative of prostate trouble. He could be elligible for corrective surgery. He could then continue to piss happily for decades to come.

See? Sometimes the Lord works in mysterious ways.

-Cos67 ~(%^D>

Monday, 30 November 2009

sex Haikus are catching on

[pic- paper shortage in Japan.]

As you can see from my Twit account, I'm a new convert to the joys of Haiku. I think it's Islamic philosophy that says something like, when everyone is constrained, then only true brilliance will shine. So, limiting yourself to a 5-3-5 or 7-5-7 syllable count is a way of getting rid of excess language and making you think hard. Below, haiku is being used to make fun of (U.S.) Republican sex scandals, of which there are many, it seems. This is fun for Democrats because the Republicans (GOP) spent years trying to get rid of President Billy Clinton of Arkansas because his aid, Monica, put the lip-lock on his peter and he risked impeachment for it because he left proof, in the form of spunk, on her dress.

from alternet:
Joshua Holland on GOP Sex scandal and Haiku technique

This is pretty funny -- the folks at TPM are asking readers to send them haiku based on their favorite GOP sex scandals. All good, clean holiday fun for the whole family.

Poetry's not my bag but I figured I'd give it the old college try. So, reaching for some low-hanging fruit, I came up with this:

Hot Summer toe-tap

Dull lay-over, need relief

Oh, no, officer

Have at it in the comments.

Update: there are certainly different forms of haiku (and you don't have to limit yourself -- they're doing limericks in the comments), but the traditional anglicized version is 3 lines, with 5 syllables, 7 syllables and 5 syllables respectively. And if you want to be a purist, try to work in a kigo, or seasonal reference.
--end of story
[dr copyright Mike Peters]

The joys of Haiku and the joys of sex
Banzai, xo tare'!

-Cos67 ~(%^D>


Tuesday, 17 November 2009

Guernica was used to support war

[pic- guernica]

The East London's Whitechapel Gallery became famous in 1939 for receiving a version of Picasso's Guernica (see video below), which was made to remind the world of the slaughter of innocent people in the Basque town of Gernica by Franco's Spanish fascists.
More recently, after the re-opening of the gallery this year, Goshka Macuga built an installation that looked like a Museum of Guernica's history. It's the first useful installation I've ever seen. They're usually monuments to ego and waste. But, this one included examples of the use of the printed word to incite violence, in the form of the purjury-laiden Case against Iraq which was read to the UN by Colon Powell. It's almost as dodgey as Tony Blair's plagiarised dosier.

Anyway, he/she put across the idea that Guernica was used by the local Communist party to get people to sign up to fight Franco. That may be true, but it seems that it could have also represented the general fight against fascism. It may have thus softened people up to go to war against Germany.
It seems odd how a piece of anti-war art ended up stoking the fires of armageddon.

Macuga's installation is called "the nature of the beast". I can see that this artist has understood how blood-thirsty people are. You tell them "don't kill" and they go off and kill.
That would seem to make sense to Slavoj Zizek, the philosopher. He has shown repeatedly how so much of what we try to do for our own good ends up being used to beat us over the head.
[pic- Guernica/ part.]
The road to hell is paved with good intentions...and art.

-Cos67 ~(%^D>

Monday, 16 November 2009

animals out of time and place

[pic- the aggrieved tree]
[pic- the perpetrator]

The jailing of animals for ...acting naturally, is the next big reality show.
This is a simple story. Animals, which once ruled the wilds of Britain, are more typically found in wildlife parks, as was this beaver, Mrs B (an inmate at Paradise Wildlife Park in Broxbourne). She had the temerity to escape by digging through a pond.
To make matters worse, she attacked a golf course. The nerve! Will those animals never learn not to mess with OUR environment?
When it comes down to it, who cares?
even if you ask golfers, who can be bitches,
who cares if a beaver chews on a tree on a golf course?
Beavers gnaw on trees. Get over it!
Why is necessary to lock this animal up for acting naturally?

We musn't forget, beavers are a protected species. They're protected, in nature reserves; protected from US! We've taken their land and lifestyle. Wow! I just had an idea; we did the same to the antipodean and American aboriginals.

Watch how easily we consume the language of jail and criminality as they're applied to a wild animal. Our control over nature is getting just too anally-retentive.

Last question: How the hell did they recognise a missing beaver?
Oh...she's the only one.
CSI Hertfordshire was thinking
"Just wait. One day she'll chew on a tree, somebody will bitch and then we'll nab 'er."

Last comment: The cultural reference for the tired commuters reading Lite (now defunct) was the Caddyshack movie, a Shakespeare ouvre. In it, a rodent gofer bespoiled the pristine, anal, surroundings of ...yes, a golf course.

Advert: Come play a round at Anal-land golf course. We manicure nature, and drain the water table, so that you can play, without having to fear attack from animals, all you tired, cart-riding, brain-dead suburban managers skiving off work.

Moto: Golf, the game of intellectuals.

This from the Scottish brethren of Mrs. B, the 10 hi-tech, chipped beavers wreaking havoc in the Highlands, from the Guardian

Return of the dammed
-Cos67 ~(%^D>
London Lite Nov 13, 2009 Ken Widdop Fore! Er no, gnaw! Beaver chews up golf course after escape from captivity

Sunday, 15 November 2009

visit Tate Britain Gallery and the Turner Prize stuff

[see the twitter tweet on the right]

As you may be able to imagine, I like writing about stuff, but I've avoided art, because artists are usually up their own butts all day. Anyway, here goes:

Gilbert and George showed how it's possible to make art that is at once gay and very penile-centred. Shocking. They screw (literally) with religious symbolism, family trees, anything.
[pic- a less-racy Gilbert & George work]

JWM Turner's works are all over the place. He was kept quite busy. I noticed that many of his Thames scenes had animals, like deer, wandering around. When's the last time anyone saw an animal of any size wandering near the Thames? It brought up an idea I've been chewing over. Beyond the hunting and general me-ism of everybody that makes wild animals totally expendible (I'll do another story soon), we've taken away most of their habitat.
The worst of all these things we do is the dual carriage-way (you ever see any carriages? neigh.) or highway. It makes no allowances for animals that want to go from here to there by crossing the road. It's impossible.
I've always said the Brits have too many highways and they're always under construction.

There was a painting that was mostly black and it was called 'black painting'. Naughty boy.

There was a Rothco-type painting, honestly called 'lines of paint' or something. Accuracy. Well done, my son. It's like a dance choreographer who once admitted 'life cannot be represented in dance'. It's the same with abstract splotches of paint. It's just bullsh*t, with a label on it, and it only works if you've got some art critics in your pocket. The best mind f&*()k is the ones called "unnamed". The artist just couldn't keep a straight face when the gallery owner Saatchi was writing out a cheque for 2 million currency units. He forgets to christen his ouevre and says "Here. Take it, before you change your mind," thinking 'I gotta give a royalty cheque to my favourite art critics. I owe it all to them'. xD

There was an interesting brass & wood crib toy hanging from the ceiling.

There was some sticks of wood stuck in plexiglass.

The Turner Prize show surprised me. I'd seen past shows from afar and rejected the stuff as post-intelligent crap.
[pic-Tracey Emin.conquests without a bedpost]
This year, some stuff actually made sense to me, dumb sh*t that I am. Three out of the four of them actually approached reality with a refreshing perspective, instead of being about the internals of the artist's anus.
The big themes were temporariness, mortality, loss of control and re-use. The explanations actually helped a bit, as did a 3-minute video from each artist.
Enrico David talked about the weakness of language for expressing stuff, but he was pretty good with language, if too intellectual.
One big clash for me was intellect versus feeling. One of the artists was right up her own backside, talking about stuff that only she and her tutor understood. She made no attempt to reach out to people and was begging us "look at me, I'm a spectacle". Waste of time.
The other three had something that moved the occasional soular molecule and caused some synapses to fire.
[pic- Enrico David]

Altogether, it was a rather sexually-charged happening.
I was expecting some dead-ass recluses in black
wandering around, clearing their phlegm.
Actually, there were some excited nubile ladies there.
It seemed like a mating ritual
with the art being the Viagra.
Me being neurotic, all I did was think about it.

There were cards for displaying your thoughts and most of the wankers there were cheering on one of the artists. Goofy idiots.
You can also write a comment for the 'cloud' on their website, but the only words allowed were from a list. A big problem with validity! But I had cunning fun with it anyway and sent it to my Twitter (see tweet on the right and follow #TurnerPrize and see what the other twats wrote).
Alas, it wasn't a haiku, but WFT.

-Cos67 ~(%^D>

Friday, 13 November 2009

Remembrance Day. Queen serenades the troops

[ Remembrance of Empire Week, 2009]
Queens can do more than keep a stiff upper lip. They can sing.

you were expecting 'we are the champions'? Try again. It's been a while.

This song expresses the soldiers' desire to stop fighting stupid, pointless wars on behalf of BP and Shell. even if it means cross-dressing.

Failing that, here's another ditty:

The only thing that stopped the Empire-fest this past week was the occasional death of a soldier somewhere in Hell-man province. Those soldiers were the lucky ones. They got the Full Monty from the fawning media. Sainthood beckons.
Solemly now,
another one bites the dust. Hey! hey!

Why don't we just admit it to ourselves. We love causing death. We don't care if our government kills innocent people. It's such a powerful feeling when you know that you can rule other countries and spread chaos. It's like a religion where we play God, deciding who dies.
Imperialism. God is a bullet!

Friday, 6 November 2009

Flush forward. World goes down the crapper.

[One major mistake has brought the world one step away from economic meltdown.]

What if you could flash forward, like that new tv show on channel 5?
Imagine it was 1962.
The decision about whether GWBush should fight in Vietnam or defend Texas is in your hands.
What would you do if you could foresee that, by letting GWB43 battle the traffic in Texas instead of fighting the Vietcong, you were aiding in the destruction of the world?

What if the 2000-2008 presidency had never happened? Would we be in this kinda mess? I think not.
We're talking about a clan with its fingers in every pie. Check your fridge, man!
Oil, Saudi, Bin Ladens, Carlyle, banks, spying, stocks, masonry. The puppet strings were even clearer than in the Ronnie Reagan B-movie years (1980-88).
Ronnie: "I'm playing the president of a big country."
GWB43: "I'm in a big game, and I'm the head honcho. Now, watch this shot." Fore!
[pic- in mourning after 9-11]

Imagine, if little stupid rich boy had been sent to the jungles full of Agent Orange.
He'da been the only one looking for a Fanta.
He would have heard "Follow the Ho Chi Minh trail!"
and thought, "wow, we're goin' hiking."
He woulda thought the trap doors in the jungle were for taking a sh*t.

Because of his status, his Harvard and Yale studies, and his father's illustrious service record, GWB would have been made a Captain. He would have led his men repeatedly into ambushes, because he has about as much foresight as a fruit bat.
You see, he uses his gut for thinking, like a Jedi knight.
The surviving few of his platoon would have soon decided to shoot him dead.
[pic-, Neidermeyer character from Animal House, 'shot by his own men'.]
[pic- and Bush created Abu Graib]
the moral of the story is,
don't mess with the space-time continuum.
Do what's right.
Don't let the rich guy get away with it.
Set up stupid rich guys and put them out of our misery,
even if it costs you your career or your life.
The future will thank you.
Otherwise, we'll all pay the price.
Think of it like Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure.
Except, you'll be offing the idiot.

How about the Socratic Method? Instead of lecturing,
I'll ask a question:
What the world be like now if Bush43 hadn't been president?
Your answer:
I rest my case.
Be excellent to each other (2 at a time).
Party on, dudes.

UPDATE: A new documentary with all the dirt on how the Family managed to get our Georgie-boy out of the line of fire. "Bush Family Fortunes"

-Cos67 ~(%^D>
*by the way, Cheney was also a draft-dodger. No surprise there. Can't handle a gun; shot a guy's face off.
P.S. Bill and Ted, instead of being just another stupid kids' movie is actually brilliant in parts. The best part is the fact that Bill's dad married a girl who's near to Bill's age, if not a classmate. Bill's confused, and doesn't know whether to use her name (Missy!?), or call her 'mom', trying not be turned on. She's beautiful, and Ted teases Bill about it all the time, like when Bill's dad goes to shag his wife, on Bill's BED! It's an "excellent" twist on Freud's Oedipal syndrome.

"Shut-up, Ted!" Pfft-HAAA. LOL xD [look at 2:40-4:00]

parting shot
[dr copyright Mike Peters]

Wednesday, 4 November 2009

drug expert fired for shooting...straight

As a volunteer, Prof. Nutt (and those on his panel of experts) advised the UK government on issues regarding illegal drugs, so that they could make policy: what should be illegal, and what's just 'fun times with friends'

This guy decided to shoot straight from the hip and say that alcohol and smokes do more damage than most illegal drugs. Everybody with a reasonable brain sees that as true.
The only difference is that booze & fags are legal for those over 18.
Well, they certainly do damage, because Nutt lost his ''job."
To see what Nutt is talking about,
you only have to walk around popular areas on a weekend night here to see perfectly reasonable-looking adults falling down drunk. This doesn't happen in Canada at anywhere near the rate.
The impression most of us Canucks have is that, while we like our beers, a 30-year-old guy passed out in his own puke is pretty f^&**king sad, as is a woman squating to piss in the middle of the street. So, most of us don't do those sorts of things.
Unfortunately, they "pass" for culture in many sectors of society, over here.
The idea is to drink with friends to enjoy their company.
Drinking to get pissed is KID STUFF!

I thought at first that it was the paternalistic liquor laws (pubs closed at 10pm) that meant everybody was in a hurry to get pissed up. So, at closing time, the streets were awash with incoherent people when the night hadn't barely started.
A couple of years ago, Tony Blair decided to go for 24-hour liquor licenses. I thought, 24-hours is a bit silly, unless you want to improve graveyard-shift employment in the seedy underbelly of large cities.
Nevertheless, I was convinced it would at least cause people
to pace themselves,
even if it took people 6 months
and an NVQ in 'Whoa, Nelly' to learn to do so.
Problem, over here!
Brits, despite their efforts to throw off their
tight-arsedness of the past,
are so insecure, paranoid, skittish and otherwise
nervous like a cat on a beach ball,
they need about three pints of Bitters/Ale/WKD
to become something recognisable to me as humanoid. The transformation is astounding. I greatly prefer to talk to them after 3 those beers, when they're relaxed and jovial.

To their credit, most of them know this, but still don't know what to do about it.

UPDATE: If you look up the advisors' report, you'll discover what I think is the real reason why the government created the crisis which got rid of the Prof. Tobacco, which kills thousands each year, has been treated lightly for such a deadly product. It results in cancer, emphezema and other stuff, it is horribly habit-forming and full of deadly chemical additives. Of course it's also a big economic lobby. So, when Nutt placed it in class B, I imagine that lobby shat its proverbial pants and called up the appropriate minister and asked for Nutt to be canned lest there be a clamouring for more fines on the cancer-stick merchants.
My conclusion: Your government doesn't care about your health when there's money to be made by their rich friends. The fact that smokes're still on sale is proof enuff.
[pic- chart, taken from Guardian]

-Cos67 ~(%^D>

p.s. See my old story on the sordid situation of tobacco: "Toke on this"

Tuesday, 3 November 2009

super-collidering part 2 The Iraqi Code

[underr construction]

[pics- the Cern collider]
This is another experiment in super-collidering where two abstract concepts or objects face off to see who will be king sh*t.

case study 2:
sadam hussein vs. tony blair & geo.bush43

Wednesday, 28 October 2009

moonwalk conspiracy

the moon has been claimed to be a chip off the old Earth caused by a glansing blow from another planet.
3 billion years later, man was able to hop over for a short stay
on the old Green Cheese.
The date was 20th of July, 1969
The picture below is of the first moonwalk by Neill Armstrong.


Just before the 40th anniversary
of that original moonwalk,
a latter-day moonwalker died.
A coincidence?
Or perhaps a jealous astronaut, or cosmonaut
didn't want to risk being upstaged by a dancer.
You decide.
As it turns out, MJ was murdered.


I wonder if the killer's next move is going to be offing Sting.
It might be because of his old group, the Police, and their cod-Reggae song
Walking on the Moon,
[pic- Stingk,]
or because Sting has become an insufferable, New Age twat,
beloved by precious women.

Now that water's been found on the moon, the writer of Moon River also becomes a candidate, simply by being a prophet of sorts.

-Cos67 ~(%^D>

Wednesday, 21 October 2009

that would be un-Christian

One of the biggest silent witnesses to the excesses of the rich has been the established religions, particularly Christianity, which, unlike Jesus was said to be, are the biggest butt-kissers of the rich and powerful.

My task here is to use the words of Jesus juxtaposed with the admissions of proclaimed Christians regarding their wealth or how they knowingly screwed the poor.

Matthew 19:21
Jesus said unto him, If thou wilt be perfect, go [and] sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come [and] follow me.

Case 1: Bo Pilgrim: owner of Pilgrim's Pride, bankrupted poultry company
By Mark Ames:
"Bo Pilgrim, the head of Pilgrim's Pride, once told his Texas church that he was worth over $1 billion before the market crash, and he's still worth hundreds of millions. His rapacity was boundless, and in the end it was the undoing of Pilgrim's Pride -- not the Pilgrim family, mind you, which is still filthy disgusting rich, but the company is through."

Case 2: Ronald Reagan
Religion: Baptized Disciples of Christ, later attended Presbyterian churches [Wikipedia]

Well, as only one of the presidents who relaxed the sluces of the financial sector (under direction from the Wise Guys behind him), he must have known that his Supply-Side Economics was all about the rich getting richer (like S&L banks). If you've forgotten how counter-intuitive and cancerous S-SE was (even Bush41 said it was crap, and he's a mason.), here's a quick lesson from the newest member of the US Congress, Al Franken of the Democratic Side:

-Cos67 ~(%^D>

Tuesday, 20 October 2009


[pics- the Cern collider]
This is an experiment in super-collidering where two abstract concepts or objects face off to see who is king sh*t.

case study 1:
barack obama vs. wall street

In this experiment, we wish to quantify the voice of change, the breath of fresh air that democracy so needed this year after the corruption, monetarism and militarism of the previous American administration.

We also seek to quantify the great monetaristic disaster that is Wall Street. It has spread the concept of the black hole, which eats up planets,

to the bank hole which, H1N1-virus-like,
is eating up the Earth... only... so far.
It uses laxity in regulation as an invitation to destroy the real economy of our planet.
At it's centre is singularity,
where billions of dollars are crushed to infinite density.
Governments just chuck money into it and it all disappears.
The Law of Derivatives Trading, known as the No-Care Theorem,
within Bank Hole Theory is
the factor by which the spinning of the bank hole speeds up.
The more certainty that bankers have of making profits,
the less they care, the more the bank hole it spins.
The origins of its tragectory can be worked out by looking historically back to the equating of the corporation with 'a person' before the law (19th century), followed by the abrogation of Glass Steagal laws in the US (1990s), the dropping of anti-trust laws for much of the financial sector and by Bush43 getting government oversight drunk (1990s).

[ your money disappearing down the fibreoptic phone line]

What would happen if these two forces were to be smashed together?

PREP: stress test- bend over and sing Moon River
guts test- (for bankers) pay off the company of the tester,
just so that nobody's in doubt about who's in charge.

Methodology: direct, high-speed collision, WWF style, except not as fake.

RESULTS: the remainders tell the story.
points go the side which is strongest (not which is right, mind you)
-Wall Street executive Geithner now 'helping' Obama
[Wall Street 1 point]
-banks got 3.2 trillion bucks in loans
[Wall Street 1 point]
-Banks still foreclosing on houses
[Wall Street 1 point]
-laws on derivatives have not changed
[Wall Street 1 point]
-Obama gave speech on Wall Street about how 'times have changed', but they haven't
[Obama -1 point]
-Wall Street bosses all absent from speech, in effect dissing the Prez
[Wall Street 1 point]
-Wall Street has decided to take its winnings now and pay its debts later
[Wall Street 1 point]
-Nobody has been charged with fraud for knowingly fooling idiots into buying
fraudulent credit default swaps
[Wall Street 1 point]
-Obama was sponsored by some of the bankers who fraudulently sold
sub-prime, balloon-in-the-fine-print, live-in-the-Chevy bankloans
[Obama -1 point]
Bill Clinton's boys Bob Rubin and Larry Summers,
who were responsible for much of the deregulation, are now at Obama's side
[Obama -1 point]
2b continued

-Cos67 ~(%^D>

Monday, 19 October 2009

1st annual Chameleon Awards

You're all aware of how the chameleon
changes to suit its environment
It changes its appearance to hide from
predators and prey alike.

Well, it's my belief that humans can do the same.
We are faced with unemployment, and preyed upon
by government
(rising taxes, fewer services, pension theft)
and capitalists
(the ridiculously high cost of putting a roof over our heads,
a Porsche in our hands and an Armani suit on our backs;
all necessities).

That's why I'm sponsoring the first annual
for those adapting best to this Time of Crisis
by thinking outside the box.
and the first prize goes to [the envelope, please]:

the Belgravia Squatters Club

Belgravia is home to Million-pound
apartments and mansions. But, many of the
rich owners have so many houses that they
don't live in the one they
own in Belgravia.
Don't you see how homeostasis works in nature?
It's an equilibrium.
Empty spaces tend to be occupied, if there's the will & a way.
Well, whadya know!
a house is a space.
When the super rich don't live in one of their brick-boxes,
homeless poor people leave their cardboard ones behind,
move in and get free rainproofing.
Natural law
, innit?
It wouldn't be right for the rich to hoard stuff,
now, would it?

In this wild environment,
the rich are vulnerable to people who
are homeless, and not earning enough money
to pay for rent, and who
know how to break and enter and...squat.
sub-species: there was the Spanish waiter-beast on tv news tonight.
capabilities: Notice how they can change colour instantly,
like with this pink wig disguise,
and note their top-secret hand signals.
Natural enemies: bailiffs & police officers.
when these approach, the squatters merely
take to the streets and find another house.
watch them parcour over balconies, Tarzan-style.

Flying through the air with grace and baggy trousers.
How exciting is that?
diet: microwave food & dumpster snacks.
Part human, part scrounger.
surviving by his wits.
thriving on visceral, real danger.
His time has come.
the squatter!
Top that for wild nature,
Sir David Attenborough!

second prize: Las Vegas rain-sewer dwellers

It's rather nice and yet excessively socialist for a city with zero rainfall, like Las Vegas, to have rain sewers. So, some homeless people there have taken advantage of this largesse and set up homes underground. If you check the story below [1], you'll see they've got furniture and everything. Of course, they're mostly ex-druggies or still live ones.

third prize goes to the Mountain Man Daniel Suelo

This lad lives in a cave near Moab, with all his belongings, without money and has since about 2001. Before that , he had been living in the 'prison of money'. Nevertheless, he manages to keep a blog going, as well as keeping himself going on a diet of wild plants, bugs and roadkill. Here's a quote from the text (title below [2]) "Suelo, who was raised in a strict evangelical family, said he had long wondered why so few Christians who considered themselves devout were prepared to adopt the ascetic lifestyle espoused by Jesus." and

"as I let go of my possessions, I found more and more that I needed less and less." But, I hear he stinks royally. So, I wonder how they let him into the library where he runs his blog from.

-Cos67 ~(%^D>


[1] Las Vegas Oct 22nd 2009 By Jeremy Taylor|uk-compaq|dl4|link4|

If not for the ominous plastic crates that Steven and Kathryn's bed and dresser are propped high up on, the couple's home would look like a dingy basement apartment. But those crates speak volumes, as they are there to protect the pair's belongings from water -- a constant threat when you live in an underground flood tunnel.

Luckily, it hardly ever rains in Las Vegas. In fact, over their two years of living deep in the bowels of Sin City, Steven and Kathryn have been able to stay dry enough to fashion their unusual dwelling with a makeshift kitchen and even a shower made from an office drinking-water dispenser.

They aren't alone in making their home underground. Roughly 700 people live in the flood tunnels beneath Vegas, with the majority concentrated under the strip. They've formed a community, united by a collection of graffiti drawn by resident artists that they call their art gallery, and a fear of flooding, which has killed 20 underground dwellers over the last two decades.

Black widow spiders thrive in the darkness, and mosquitoes swarm in the damp.

But it still beats being homeless above ground. "It's much cooler than on the streets," one resident explained. "We get a breeze coming through and the cops don't really bother you. It's quiet, and everyone helps each other out down here."

For "work," Steven and Kathryn put on their best clothes and emerge up into the casinos' neon glow, where they "credit hustle." This vocation consists of checking slot machines for the chips and credits drunken gamblers leave behind. 997 dollars (around £650) is the most Steven ever found in a single machine. Most nights, 20 will do.

Many of the drain-pipe dwellers have drug and alcohol problems. Heroin was Steven's thing. He claims he's kicked, but two outstanding warrants from his bad old days have him leery of returning to the normal life and sunlight that he craves.

So he'll remain beneath the margins, with his woman and his surprisingly well-appointed sewer suite. Proof that, for some, being underground is more than a state of mind.


"Struggling US envies its cashless caveman" by Tony-Allen Mills The Sunday Times 30 August 2009.

Wednesday, 14 October 2009

Poetry club's poem of the day

Here's a romantic poem that conjures up wonderful images. I'll tell you who wrote it, where it was first presented, and whom it's about, at the end.

Aping urbanity
Ozzing with vanity
plump as a manatee
faking humanity
journalistic calamity
intellectual inanity
Fox-noise insanity
you're a profanity

copyright John Cleese (Monty Python) , read by K. Olberman on MSNBC in 2008.
Checkitout on Youtube.
They were whispering sweet nothings over the airwaves
to Sean Hannity, who is a
Fixed News,
I mean, Faux News,
I mean, Fox News
non-journalist, blowhard and general malcontent, and fomenter of right-wing rage among semi-educated trailer-park trash.
-Cos67 ~( %^D>

Tuesday, 29 September 2009

Artists, get your underage thrills in France

[pic: Polansky's victim was only a GIRL, while perhaps not being as geeky as this one]
It's not so shocking that Roman Polansky has finally been caught for the crime he committed on (literally) a 13-year-old girl, when he was 44! I suppose he would say that he was doing research for his film 'Lolitta'. (I could barely watch two minutes of the two stars together. My mind was on how bent the guy was.) No surprise here; I'm a father.
What's even more shocking, is that France, its government and many of its citizens, wants him released immediately.
Apparently, the French have one set of rules for normal people and another set for their bohemian artists. So, pack up your bags, frustrated artists. Set up shop in France and people might be literally handing over their own children to you.

I suppose they learned this kind of acceptance from the Catholic Church. In other words, the French commoners had to accept a certain amount of frottage and Sodom & Gomorrah on their enfants if they wanted to go to heaven.

This is a test case of the different set of rules for the rich and the stricter ones for the poor and middle classes.

I must admit a certain complicity in the fact that I listen to 'rock' music which was instigated by the need for background music for the worshipping of 16-year-old girls/young women. By the way, when does a woman stop being referred to as a 'girl', in this world of sexualised children and infantilising adults?

Also, if you were Roman Polansky, and your every achievement was prefaced by the statement 'accused pedophile', would you continue running around the world, thumbing your nose at the police like some jewel thief? Does he truly want everyone to look at his cheeky smile and say 'that's the way rich pedophiles look'?
Would you give away your own daughter, her mental stability and her faith in people; her whole life, blown away?
I'd rather hang out in those Afghan caves with them Tally-ban hillbillies. Tally-me massalla, pal.

A blisteringly ironic letter from a French commentator Acouphene (originally from Le Monde, translated in the Guardian G2- Sept. 29, 2009):
"You have to understand them,
these poor stars.
What's the point of being a celebrity
if you can't have the women you want,
whether they're above the age of consent or not,
whether they're willing or not;
if you can't flee abroad and prosper there
while our country's justice system looks after you ,
circulate freely
wherever you want to go
to be awarded medals and charms at international festivals, and
then mobilise opinion in your favour when things start to get tricky."

How about this in an article on alternet, about Whoopi Goldberg's ideas from a US tv show: [my comments- Costick67]
"Whoopi Goldberg manages to outdo that brilliant reasoning by coming up with a really good legal defense for rapists: 'What I'm saying is that he did not rape her, cause she was aware, and the family, apparently was aware ... ' [so if your family is using you, you're up Sh*t Creek. Under any circumstances, messing with a 'child', legally defined, is statutory rape. It can be nothing else. As we say back home, '(messing with a) 15 (year-old girl) will get you 20 (years in jail)']

After more back and forth, Goldberg finally comes to her point: 'He was not charged ... I know it wasn't rape-rape. I think it was something else ... but I don't believe it was rape-rape.'

[So, technically RP was charged with something other than precisely 'statutory rape', but the act he committed is recognised by anyone paying attention as pure 'S.R.' Of course, RP made a mockery of that charge by running off, instead of sticking around to appeal.]

As Lindsay on Jezebel notes, while it's very, very good that Goldberg insists on using precise language and dealing with facts over hype, it's very, very bad that Goldberg implies that a 44 year old having sex with a drugged 13 year old is not rape." [How could we forget the champagne, lest any of you think that RP's fame and charm should have been enough.]

---the end

-Cos67 ~( %^D>
pic from

Thursday, 25 June 2009

How to stop wasting time and enjoy life

[under construction]
People don't have a sense of roots, family or belonging anymore,
so they get a feeling of belonging from
clambouring onto a bandwagon for some
stupid pulp fiction craze and/or
movie hype.

I gotta admit, I've employed the 'Berlins' technique for decades,
but never have quite put it into words so eloquent as the man himself:

Marcel Berlins (Guardian) published this text below on how to
avoid the hype in pop culture
and save years of your life,
because you're gonna be
bombarded by the stuff in the media anyway.
e.g. Does anybody not know
the basic facts on Harry Potter?
I've never openned one of those HP books,
I once met a gal who was a
foolish slave
to that bunch of pages
together, in SEVEN editions.
(As if the first million dollars sufficient for Rowling)

'nuff already!

just read this and get a life:
[Here is Berlins' story- copyright Guardian] [my comments- cos67]

Many years ago, following a painful attempt to reach page 40 of the Hobbit, I took a decision never to read the Lord of the Rings [drawing Flies], or anything about the book, its characters or its author. It didn't matter much then but my policy began to yield serious results when the three films of the book were made. Merely not going to see them only saved me a couple of days; but avoiding the surrounding publicity,of whatever kind and about whomever, has by now amounted to about 4 months (on the basis of a 35 hour week).

But it was not until the first Harry Potter novel was published- and six more were promised-that I realised how fruitful my strategy of total avoidance could be. Even before the first film I had saved two months by ignoring the books and all the accompanying Pottermania....

-Cos67 ~( %^D>