Friday, November 28, 2008
No project ever fails.
Top Management knows that things have succeeded, or have 'come within a whisper of succeeding with a modest bit of help now'.
They may actually convince whoever the Money Supply is. Be that as it may, the more effort T.M. has to expend in 'proving' its success (irrelevant though that actuality may be), the more irritation will be sent in shuddering payback (not to be confused with 'back pay') internally within the system.
'We'll handle this discreetly'
The embarrassing chew-outs, dope-slaps, and unfair rages descend with avalanche-speed until 'someone takes the fall'.
The sloth and disengagement, the masturbatory power-gyrations at the top ultimately lead to one thing:
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Something about losing it all, now that the Depression season is around the corner.
All gifts are out of the sack; the warmth is the warmth from just here,
Friends are those who speak to you right now, the grocery clerk, the bagger.
Take turns at this public drinking fountain and note the person there before you
Then take note of the person after you, the brothers and sisters of your having been here
Just here, right now, the ones who register that true thing.
Following time-honored advice, a slow-down. Why not listen to parts of musical compositions instead of gourmandizing on a great table of it? Classical pieces, if begun to be understood, need careful attention.
One movement at a time. Either conversation between, like a palate-cleanser, or unpunctuatable snacks of street noise, television two rooms away, stratospheric airplanes growing more and more indistinct, wind that knocks an upright rake down.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
The boy was the youngest child of the second wife of an old father. The only son, Darrell was. His father had been a baker by trade, and a trade unionist by inclination, burly, tough, but a good father to his six children. The first three were daughters of the first wife, a woman institutionalized for a kind of dementia.
Of the younger three, the eldest married a man scion to a wealthy, distant family from whom they both conspired to hide her religion.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Not sure whether the devil is in the mutatis or in the mutandis.
Never you mind. The Universal lies in the intercommunicability of the confusion.
Beneficial and smooth as would be our mutually-dependent cultural and commercial life,
Our digital 'globality', what marks us, is the precision of our babel.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Friday, November 7, 2008
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Should the unspeakable happen and the (only) good candidate not win tomorrow, here're my alternatives:
1) Shave my head, don an orange robe, carry a rice bowl, and be aware of the swirl of events around me only as momentary illusion;
2) Saturate myself in foreign language Grand Opera and philately
3) Go out with a big 'bang';
4) Become a European;
5) Therapy, breakdown, therapy, breakdown, therapy, breakdown . . .