Sunday, December 28, 2008

A Babble Meant

Like all of us i am surrounded by fools and clowns. as susan sontag once said (more or less) one has to live in post industrial society to understand how seriousness itself can be brought into question. so i ride the bus to work and look over the shoulder of the petty bourgeois and glean little nauseas of the blatant lies and rampant idiocy. which pass for culture and informed political comment these days.


Only follow the link if you are strong of mind and heart




The rabble meat of a babble meant
Dub gulch of piers.

I do not know of the where
But whores they, them surly knew.

Craven some lace.

And the face of the troublesome
Tree baroque feigns afar
Over her graby pour lice.

Without warm womb!
Out out damned polis!
Would in fact in feck
Overwhorl with piled to the sky
Hi grime grimm dark for rest dank.

And the poor masta pile themselves
UP up - I have everyting i cuddle
Ever white want one whit why shovel
Eye my hard earned? eh?

To 'elp whelp some urn less auf?

Mark me cross (tele rending cross)
Where is the in da bile do it
Stink say all dat??
All dem dings eh?!?

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Vomitoria