Reboot? - Give Your Sherdog Bestie ....A work reference.

[Tireur889]

You will have a myriad of giants with escalating viability for the job qualifications. And I'm not your Johnny Carson or David Letterman, .....but I am the guy who bled their worship, I can get caught by specialists with left and right hooks when the guard is down, or viable volley. But I am you man. A lifetime for a bulletproof trajectory. Very few facts I will miss, but ...in the end, I'm way off in the dark, on this website, but I'm true with the good ones. We aren't that fucking far off. I know there's this shiver, but it's the wrong move. I swear to God.

Pretty sure I have the worst threads.

No not even . At least you didn't start yet another thread about Joe Rogan . By the way , how tall is Rogan? Do you know?

 

[Drunken Meat Fist]

I feel like the man from Porlock interrupting your flow.

I think that feeling will pass.

 

[Drunken Meat Fist]

No not even . At least you didn't start yet another thread about Joe Rogan . By the way , how tall is Rogan? Do you know?

Joe Rogan is 5'10"

 

[eighterumg5]

you know, there's a globe-spanning layer of mesopelagic fish that is so dense it distorts SONAR. For decades we had no idea what created the Deep Scattering Layer or why it moved. We still know almost nothing about it. It contains between 65% and 95% of all fish biomass, and you'd have to go almost a kilometer under the waves to see it. these are creatures that have never seen sunlight and most look like you'd expect, quite terrifying.
one day, when the upper layer of the oceans will have been fished out, we'll have to go deep hunting for these monsters.

 

[Alphaboy]

Pretty sure I have the worst threads.

No, actually.

 

[Drunken Meat Fist]

I realize I'm something of a dark wooded legend, ya know, a mythical magical Greek type nature presence. Is there something I could do for you, for one person in particular, in a spacific meaningful request?

 

[Drunken Meat Fist]

It's better to have loved and lost, but ....it's not better today.

 

[Drunken Meat Fist]

 

[Drunken Meat Fist]

It's realllly good to just keep the love train. I deprecate because it's real. I also say outlandish shit. So I'm walking down the road few hours ago, to purpose. And I was not happy with life, I was sad for a number of reasons, but there's a guy in a wheelchair I see often, Gene. I always make the effort to say how are you Gene? How is your day. As a wicked observant nuance lover of life. If I say "hi gene". it's not even a thing. Subtly is all. I'm reminded of this clip. Magic is attention and balls and a hug. Magic is Personality on demand. If you can walk up and put a tea cup on your head in a given situation. or put your hand on the shoulder of the Ned Beatty. Psychology is just a moment away.

 

[Drunken Meat Fist]

My bestie is a private man

I used to fucking hate Hegel. And then I put my finger in another person's coffee. I didn't win the long game, but I put my finger in your coffee. Remember when the world was tortured and you just made art?

 

[Drunken Meat Fist]

I'm quoting Hegel, not in the sense that I'm quoting Hegel, but that in the course of being alive, that someone would post Hegelian philosophy as a driving context ot the Sopranos. I don't sleep well as it is. I don't need this fucking shit.

 

[Drunken Meat Fist]

I popp too much then 8 gte tired

Well, low-end ball gags ain't gonna by themselves.

 

[Drunken Meat Fist]

No not even . At least you didn't start yet another thread about Joe Rogan . By the way , how tall is Rogan? Do you know?

Is there a thing with me and Joe? If there were subconscious drums, I would imagine it would come from my love of Kung Fu San Soo, and a slight variant on our concept of comedic heroes. In layman's terms, I can picture Joe coming up with a routine on Aunt Bea in a negligee. Whereas i doubt it would cross my mind.

 

[Drunken Meat Fist]

LIfe is good, I think Joe and I would be alright. I have this Carlyle concept, which is simple, like a great man theory, but but as well enough can't be good, Peter Ustinov or Terence Stamp said something that had nothing to do with Thomas Carlyle, but ruined my fucking sleep. I'm too mundane to be insane or disturbed, I don't imagine bored or truly insane people spend an inordinant amount of time thinking about the musing of distrubed people. I'm not a milk man on the psychological spectrum, but my neurosis are boring garden variety. The death wish has been a thing, but to what end? I was asked to stop fiddling with the choke on a 34 Plymouth at a car show while they were dunking prom queens in cold water for ten bucks.

Life really is good. I hate so bad that all the good ones end early. I am just one of them, but because of them, I've been strong enough to push a little bit. In my greatest time, at a great weekend concert I got everyone around me drunk, just so I could let

 

[Peteyandjia]

 

[Karl_Hungus]

"Men, it has been well said, think in herds; it will be seen that they go mad in herds, while they only recover their senses slowly, and one by one."

you know, there's a globe-spanning layer of mesopelagic fish that is so dense it distorts SONAR. For decades we had no idea what created the Deep Scattering Layer or why it moved. We still know almost nothing about it. It contains between 65% and 95% of all fish biomass, and you'd have to go almost a kilometer under the waves to see it. these are creatures that have never seen sunlight and most look like you'd expect, quite terrifying.
one day, when the upper layer of the oceans will have been fished out, we'll have to go deep hunting for these monsters.

"Our sardine fishermen work at night in the dark
of the moon; daylight or moonlight
They could not tell where to spread the net,
unable to see the phosphorescence of the
shoals of fish.
They work northward from Monterey, coasting
Santa Cruz; off New Year's Point or off
Pigeon Point
The look-out man will see some lakes of milk-color
light on the sea's night-purple; he points,

and the helmsman
Turns the dark prow, the motorboat circles the
gleaming shoal and drifts out her seine-net.
They close the circle
And purse the bottom of the net, then with great
labor haul it in.

I cannot tell you
How beautiful the scene is, and a little terrible,
then, when the crowded fish

Know they are caught, and wildly beat from one wall
to the other of their closing destiny the
phosphorescent
Water to a pool of flame, each beautiful slender body
sheeted with flame, like a live rocket
A comet's tail wake of clear yellow flame; while outside
the narrowing
Floats and cordage of the net great sea-lions come up
to watch, sighing in the dark; the vast walls
of night
Stand erect to the stars.

Lately I was looking from a night mountain-top
On a wide city, the colored splendor, galaxies of light:
how could I help but recall the seine-net
Gathering the luminous fish? I cannot tell you how
beautiful the city appeared, and a little terrible.
I thought, We have geared the machines and locked all together
into inter-dependence; we have built the great cities; now
There is no escape. We have gathered vast populations incapable
of free survival, insulated
From the strong earth, each person in himself helpless, on all
dependent. The circle is closed, and the net
Is being hauled in. They hardly feel the cords drawing, yet
they shine already. The inevitable mass-disasters
Will not come in our time nor in our children's, but we
and our children
Must watch the net draw narrower, government take all
powers--or revolution, and the new government
Take more than all, add to kept bodies kept souls--or anarchy,
the mass-disasters.
These things are Progress;
Do you marvel our verse is troubled or frowning, while it keeps
its reason? Or it lets go, lets the mood flow
In the manner of the recent young men into mere hysteria,
splintered gleams, crackled laughter. But they are
quite wrong.
There is no reason for amazement: surely one always knew
that cultures decay, and life's end is death."

 

[Drunken Meat Fist]

I like the line

I cannot tell you
How beautiful the scene is, and a little terrible

I had a rough go with Hemingway, I had a rough go with Fitzgerald, I had a rough go with Walt Whitman. I understood the beauty and the hubub, and I'm a Bukowski guy, I'm watching Factutom again as we type, I was watching Tina Louise western, 24 she says, arguably the most beautiful woman who ever lived in that movie, crushingly beautiful, almost too much.
Where Hemingway says, just one perfect line, and write that way. Bukowski says yeah man, but it's gotta pop, are you listening to me, everyline has to pop or it's a wasted, line, what's the point.

Almost the same thing, but just not. I love that. Nobody is wrong, there's just so much you can read. You can't not play, you pick teams. You cannot write like Hemingway one day and Bukowski another, that's schizophrenia. And I was late to college, the long way home, but I was stuck in the transcendentalist class, and I had your standard high school education, I was fucking burned out on the transcendentalist. Like 23 year old jr high student into the Romantics again. For the dick I was, I so glad in those unimaginable places between Kiss and Steve Maritin, and I was reading all this shit by the river, that seems like a whole other life.

Nothing of nothing, I'm in the class, and the cops come and arrest the professor. I knew at the time what it was, there was an actual standoff at his ranch a day or so later, we drove by while it was happening, next to a buffalo ranch on an old dirt road.
So the substitute, is this heavy guy in a buttondown shirt. He doesn't give a shit about the transcendentalists. He drank with Gary Snyder, so we hung out and got drunk for few nights and putted around. He started talking about Tim Roth, and then he looked over and said, you're not gay are ya. Nope. Ah, alright, and then back to business. I thought that was awesome. I've known some homosexuals, but flippancy was cool.

So the line above reminded me of Gary Snyder, I'd read him before this guy, but he went to his car and handed me some books, and we were just walking around talking about shit, more writers than writing, a little nostalgia and drinking and fuck it just nice talking to this guy. I could feel the years on him. It felt like how things oughta be for a time, there was a few years like this, I was an older man, like a pissdown mid twenties Rimbaud with to talent or deep insight, but good with summer breezes and soaking the clouds and rivers and woods, and out of nowhere pretty girls walking around. I miss that guy. A river runs through it, without the suspenders, and I've fished, but no heart it in. I've been arrested 3 times fish and game, not arrested by took a fishing pole out of my hand at six in the morning in a shit mountain creek, it's fucking amazing. Three hours drinking at five or six a.m. there's a human woodpecker.

Also the line, reminds me of Kerouac, the clip where what's his nuts is asking him who else writes poetic prose, and he says Walt Whitman, Specimen Days. I said wait what. Specimen Days is one of the greatest things I've ever read, I was never a Ginsberg guy, but in fits and certain poems, not the whole, he was the dopey daffodil, but Specimen Day, I never would have read that except for that moment. Whitman is a good poet, and changed the game, but I never thought I would give a fuck beyond the obvious shit and his cadence.

Not that anyone would, the whole audiotape is on youtube, it's copious, but if you live alone, or partime, and just use it as your background for a few weeks, or like brushing your teeth, I think you almost just become a poet. Iambic tetrameter, pentameter, the assyrians came down like a wolf on the fold,
you may talk of gin and beer when you're quartered safe out here and you're sent to penny fights and Aldershot it, ...characteristic physiognomy

I know nobody is here, but it's never mattered before. These are exercises, meditations. A normal person would write it down, but this is writing it down. @ 12:30 is good.

 

[Drunken Meat Fist]

You lay in bed and picture Kerouac before all this bullshit we have, reading this as he's writing The Town and the City, reading Proust and Thomas Wolfe and Jesus Christ it almost makes you sick, you're right there and in a way you don't get with any other subsection of writing, to me, I think movies influenced the writing, because writing became, not cinematic, but alive, like you're right in it if you want to be, and you just let go. I'm sure no one is gonna listen to Specimen Days, but there's anyone actually reading this, please read the Town and the City, it's not the masterwork, and it's not full blown, but it's just a young guy steeped in modernism and period and just squirming in Pound and WCWilliams and it's worth the chunk or your time and you carry the sensibility with you forever. Like Simon and Garfunkle. Once you have it, it's yours forever.

 

[Drunken Meat Fist]

 

[Drunken Meat Fist]

Where do you get a hundred feet of teletype paper?
Teletype paper (wtf dummy), in a very good stationary store.

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Iceberg people. Maybe there's something under the surface. Jim Morrison, there's only performance, there's only what is right now over and over and if you just do it all the time, you don't ever have to pretend. Life is fucking beautiful. Life is so beautiful.