Recently, revisions to the 1996 Telecommunications Act have been proposed, and everyone is bat-shit pissed off. I'm not too great at explaining political mumbo-jumbo, so watch this instead. and, now, remember when we all learned the internet was made of a series of tubes. You can make a difference, no matter what MTV… Continue reading a naturale neutrality
turn off, tune out, drop in
the peace train is coming back, start packing.
Penny Lame: The Prequel to New Age Wasteland
Recently, I was asked, “Do think there is hope for the future?” An ambiguous term to throw around the dinner table, future, I pondered. The word had never bothered me before. The future had always seemed like a tangible object to me; I used to stand in my bathroom, staring straight into my own eyes.… Continue reading Penny Lame: The Prequel to New Age Wasteland
Seal of the Fatigue
I say it again: Turn Off, Tune Out, and Drop In If we don't... Who will? Turn Off the Television, Tune Out the Illusions, And Drop Into Solution
Parliamentry, Watson
I think, I thought, I remembered yet, but quickly, quite soon, Well, I just... simply forget. Whilst mid-saunter, You see, I rambled on through, The dusk, quintessential, to forsaking the truth. However, consequential sayings often miss the lot, and writers, quite good, often leave out the plot. It may be existential to remorse for being,… Continue reading Parliamentry, Watson
Whilst in the Fiction of Skeletal Measures
When lost within my gazing time, Still I stare, though you, you burnt light, bound to be delicate, decadent is thine To be of dust and guitars, did he even fight? Sense from scents familiar, I manifest of land, of root, of dripping, now of hand-me-down The grip of said pencil, you wrote next. Just… Continue reading Whilst in the Fiction of Skeletal Measures
We Should Wake Up
Tune Out, Turn Off, Drop In--- put your peace signs up, bunny ears to the sky
¿Dónde está mi cabeza?
It was a concept, Just a thought, To become organized, not stuck between motive and plot --so, I welcome you, to my hood, ------->My Writer's Block
on 288, headed toward the loop
These are the breakers, straight paper makers, foolish be the people, who just plain hate us. waitin' with weight of the chip on my shoulder, you askin', "get out", when I pull ova. So, McVey gonna turn it around, sayin, "nah, man, this is my town, look here is my crown." Tha Mo City Don… Continue reading on 288, headed toward the loop
thepoliticsofkendra.com 