mia is hot

i have a lot of respect for this woman, though I am not sure why. Is it because I like her music, the way she dresses, the style she projects? What is it about this woman that intrigues me? I'm not sure. There aren't many females in the hip hop community who I find respectable, tasteful even, but m.i.a. is--i think that says more than more words here.

i could just barf

So I'll start by asking--what is up with all the hipsters?

I guess it has always been cool to copy, we are humans, mimesis, representation and all that jazz..But, what happened to self respect & independence?

whatever "she" churns out, the others wear. whatever "he" does, the others do.
I don't get it. It is so simplistic and I require a deeper meaning.
im surrounded by tacky bicycles and little brains--i've never eaten at sabrinas but let me tell u, its in my neighborhood (and i've been living in this neighborhood 20+ years) and it ain't all that. but what gives it its charm? HIPSTERS! why? because like forrest said stupid is as stupid does. Ohhhh so that explains the bad haircuts, greasy faces and shitty pot!

dumb dumb dumb, i feel like all the "young adults" in philadelphia have turned into tom hanks in big--trying to hide who they are and pretend to be someone else.....

who are u people? where did u come from? AND WHY ARE YOU MOVING TO SOUTH PHILLY? we don't particularly want you here, your gentrifying our neighborhoods and you don't give a shit about helping it. you move in and out and here and there and rep the hood like your from it. i can't stand it and many life long philadelphians are STILL disappointed that the best fucking diner in the city, silk city, was converted into a playpen for hipsters. those egg creams used to be the bomb, lemme tell u. And i'll be the first to admit I've gotten shitty at silk city on thursdays, but, i'm not a hipster so it doesn't count.

more on hipsters--are there any hot hipsters? like, seriously, because i can't find them. no one dude and not one girl. from the back maybe okay i'll give u that but then they turn around and its like damn ur a mess. sureeee, i bet you think you look pretty fine..but the rest of us don't..

to me hipsters represent the decline of western thought. being cool used to be invention. it was about new ideas and having what others didnt. now what is it? wanting what everyone else on tv has and then everyone in the bar has now too? If hipsters are confused then I am confused by hipsters. Interviewed in 2004 for a New York Times Magazine article, writer Zev Borow quotes some guy who used to live in NY and makes an interesting point on "the hipster effect (aka destroying shit)"

A gust of chilly autumn wind forces him to turn up his collar. “Now things around here are just . . . different. And it’s not just here; it’s the whole city, even Brooklyn especially Brooklyn. Right now everywhere just feels . . . tired. Cliché. Corny.” He pauses, remembering. “Deeply unsatisfying . . . over.”

Over? What does he mean by "over" ? I can't help but think over creatively, artistically. there lacks stimulation, nothing is growing and hipsters are dead. alive and functioning yes but dead intellectually, dead where it matters.

Old People Don't Smell--Bad

I should really post a picture of my next door neighbor Tommy here. He is a classic example of what it means to be old in South Philly. He reminds me why I love old people.

See, Tommy grew up in South Philly and then he married Lorraine. She's from South Philly, too, and in South Philly they raised their children and together they live and together they sit, on the porch, in their lawn chairs, everday. And they have been doing this for years.

Me? I love old people. I do, I feel like I really connect with them.

One of my favorite things about old people is the way they love to sit outside. But, its gotta be nice. On my block you can catch at least 2-3 old people per nice day sitting on their step, sometimes together, usually alone. No newspapers and no books. But, when I walk past, on certain special days, I can hear the music playing from inside of the house and it catches me everytime. And the music sounds sweet because I know the music is much older then I am and when I hear that jazz play I can't help but think "man, that old person is cool." So many times I want to sit down next to them and watch the people pass by together.

So many times I wonder what they think about, the memories that pass through their heads and the experiences they have had. I think of them, not individually, not collectively, but one at a time I think of the old people as I encounter them and I love to watch them watch me pass because then I become a part of their life. I become a part of their experience, jam packed into 80 or 90 years. I become part of that time and if they shall die the memory of me shall die too and experience and experience will be erased. And it is fantastic because the idea that my presence shall travel somewhere other then Earth, well, that just sounds extraordinary.

In the summertime is obviously the best time for old people. They don't seem to come out much when it is cold, understandably.

I have another neighbor, her name is Jenny. Jenny is 94. She is from South Philly, too. I have known Jenny all of my life, I just never knew how old she was until recently. (Age didn't start occuring to me until I become old enough to desire to be younger.) Jenny is amazing and she looks good too. I mean she has her wrinkles like the rest of them, white hair and all, but no hump, no cane, fake teeth maybe but man Jenny has got it together. She even has a little figure still going. What's her secret? The steps, it is all about the steps. Jenny is out there almost everyday--talking, laughing, making new friends, visiting old ones. Nevermind Church on Sundays, forget about assisted living and that shit they like to send my friends the old people to, all you need is a nice South Philly step--that is the secret to good health in old age. I swear.

Gross

Isn't that just a lovely home in Avalon, New Jersey? I am sure the millionarie real estate developers and little league celebutante wives just loved this tid-bit from this weekend. And although I bet shit like this happens all the time in various parts of our great country, we don't read about it. I wish they'd keep it that way but since they don't,

On Saturday, lifeguards found the first needle at about 10:45 a.m. in the incoming tide at 12th Street. The beach was shut down for the day from 9th to 24th streets while local, county and state authorities searched the scene. They found 150 more needles, 8-inch cotton swabs and blue pill casings. The needles were made of clear and yellow plastic, about three inches long and tipped with metal.

http://www.pressofatlanticcity.com/186/story/237553.html

Makes you want to dive right in, doesn't it?

That's why it doesnt pay to be rich--fuck avalon, heh.

At 12 P.M. on Sunday afternoon, Caroline sat by the window waiting for the brown folded package to arrive at her door. Listlessly she starred onto the street as the winds branches hit hard on the tops of cars outside.

She signed; unamused, the phone hadn't rung all day. Caroline looked forward to a long evening of smoke and water. Sometimes the street had this distinct air about it that seemed as though it would blow the mailman right around the corner. The storm was impatient. If only it were more like Caroline, polite, cautious and resigned. The shutters sent chills down her spine as they banged against the trim of the windows. Outside, the wind was twisting into a cyclone of dust, debris and fallen leaves.

..to be continued

Alarming

Madrid Plane Crash: August 20, 2008.

The worst is the identification of the bodies. It is the end of all hope.

-Jesus Lopez Santana, Spanish Red Cross

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/7574696.stm

the olympics

Am I the only one who is confused by the Olympics?  Who feels like maybe I shouldn't say too much if you know what I mean.  

Between swapping singers and fake fireworks I'm not sure what to believe.  The athletes are just incredible and their show of strength and dedication should be what defines the Olympic Games.  Sometimes I forget the long history of the Olympics, but then I go to Google and remind myself.  Then I am led to wikipedia, because it is so convienent.  Yet, Professors keep telling me that it is an invalid source.  I agree for the most part because MLA guidelines and the literature community in general wouldn't be able to account for most of the entries found on the site.  However, a little bird told me Goggle is developing their own "wikipedia" and will be using advertising space to generate revenues to pay scholars to publish on their own web encyclopedia.

But back to the Olympics.  Now, I am thinking about the internet and reports of censorship and such is pretty much what I would expect from their government.  After visiting China last Spring, I enjoyed 4 or 5 days traveling in and around Beijing, Quindao and Honk Kong when I spent a semester at sea.  This trip lasted 100 days and took me around the world--from the Bahamas to San Diego going east.

An interesting story surfaces upon searching for Greek and Olympic history.  The games were revived by Greek poet Panagiotis Soutsos in the poem "Dialogue of the Dead" in 1833.  Evangelos Zappas, founder of the modern Olympics Games and businessman and entrepreneur, invested in a steamship company.  The revived Panathenian Stadium near Athens was once again alive with athletes.

coldplay

Ever since Coldplay came out with their first single, "Yellow," I have dug them. Now, I am a fan of all music. I never categorized or classified my catalog of choice. Hip-hop, rock, whatever. I like the new single "Viva la vida."  I really dig it.

my friend

i had the most frightening nightmare the other day when i was walking down the street
i dreamt that you were dead
that it had all caught up with you
and after everyone had given up on you
you died alone
and sad
and lonely
you died for nothing
for everyone
because it had to be you.

and i cried because i was sorry
sorry i hadn't helped
sorry i never knew how
sorry for feeling
sorry for loving.

and the tears flowed
and a river grew
and the river flowed
and the oceans expanded
and you were gone.

and the wind whispered
and the breeze blew
and you were gone.

visions of you laughing filled my head
with memories of fun times
and a past we both shared, together
your smile made me smile
and when you cried i cried.

and now i cry alone
because you are not here
and now i live alone
because you are not here
and then i awake
and i wonder
what can i do

my favorite artist isn't dead.

"My work allows me to speak the truth to the injustices of the world, show the beauty of the experiences of my life, and explore the limitations of the materials and techniques of my artistic foundations. I attempt to decipher negative experiences in positive ways through my art."

- James E. Dupree

When I was in first grade I had no idea that I would meet my best friend and my role model all in the same family. But I did, and I am glad.

http://www.dupreestudiosinc.com/

i try but i fail

i've been forgotten
left for dead
my body yelling out for help
but left unnoticed
as people pass me on the street
i've grown tired
fallen to pieces
marked by unhappiness
i've grown older
marked by wrinkles
and unhappiness

i cry out save me
and wait for a response
my voice echoes out
and does not return.

i turn the corner
and cross my fingers
knock on wood
i tap three times
collect myself
and inhale deep
i've got it now
i know i do.

he reaches out
i instantly react.
i fall short of his grip
he tries again
and i'm consumed
with catching him
i tell him take your time
and he waits till all the people have passed by.

by then i'm shattered
too many times
and not enough moments
i try to wait
but i fail.

i lie down on the street.

he catches me and i lean forward
diving into glass
im on autofocus
but no one can see me
i'm a glare
a blindspot
a twitch
an itch to scratch
i'm gone again.

blank stares and open spaces
cornered me in
and i'm trapped.
like a forrest set on fire
i yearn to be consumed
changed
rerooted,
and growing
i stop
and look around
but i am confused
everything looks different
and i know no one.

i try to wait
on the step of eternity
watching the people pass by
by and by they come
i close my eyes and drop my head
i slip and fall
i fail again.

Media Censorship

http://chun2085.blogspot.com/2007_02_01_archive.html

life

what is independent thought?
what is universally understood?
what is NEW?

REPRESENTATION as the unconcious acception of reality.
- literature & art
- life imitates
- memesis
- Aristotle & Plato
- theoretical linguistics
- love?

intellect VS. ignorance
shame VS. pride
happiness VS. sadness

= perception and experience

the new writer

the new writer.

Recent data from the UNESCO Institute for Statistics (UIS) estimates that there are presently 781 million illiterate adults in the world, about 64 percent of whom are women!!! And in some regions of the world, nearly half of all women are reported to be illiterate.

UIS estimates also show that:

Nearly two-thirds of the world's illiterate adults live in only nine countries,
and 45 percent of the world's illiterate adults live in India and China (34
percent and 11 percent respectively).  Globally, 82 percent of the world's
population is reported as literate: 87 percent of men and 77 percent of all
women.  Extremely low literacy rates are concentrated in three regions, South
and West Asia, sub-Saharan Africa and the Arab States, where only about six in
10 adults are considered literate: around two-thirds of men and only half of
women.  In contrast, Latin America and the Caribbean and East Asia and the
Pacific have literacy rates around 90 percent, for both men and women. Yet these
regions combined account for 22 percent of the world's illiterate population.

http://www.nifl.gov/nifl/international/intro.html

THE NEW WRITER: she isn't concerned with periods because her thoughts dont stop or drop at the end of a sentence commas matter when nessacary. you decide when it is nessacary she Capitalizes on occasion, only when she means it she constantly misspells--but finds peopel stil undarstan hir she tries 2 condense ideas--the shorter the sentence the more potent the thought..All the while creating, inventing, digesting, growing, learning and sharing.

if you cannot understand written language, the challenges you face are innumerable. my life is about language--preservation, understanding and communicating. how to combat illiteracy is exhausting. my work at the Norris Square Community Center of North Philadelphia (http://www.nsnp.com/) showed me first hand the problems facing people of all ages and backgrounds right here in the United States, a land filled with educational opportunities. consider areas in South America and Africa without such advantages.

i think there is a movement going on right now of NEW WRITERS. writers who are socially concious and socially involved. writers who desire a better world and project that through their work. writers who arent utopic but realistic and headstrong. writers who say fuck the rules and create their own. i am part of the school of NEW WRITERS and classes are going on all over the country, in universities and in parks, in basements and in journals--the NEW WRITERS are coming 2 help.

For further information on literacy, as well as education, I found this interesting and intellectual webblog which has entries dating back to 1999. whoa dude, 1999, like mad old yo.
http://jerz.setonhill.edu/weblog/