Alcoholic backseat trinkets

Act 4: If anyone wants to tell me what's going on here, I'll be in the lounge

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blackiestark n. 1. What grows out of the mud after the world murders a bigrob and then pisses on its grave.
2. The best thing that could have happened to either of them.

"You lack faith," said Candide.
"It is because," said Martin, "I have seen the world."
-- Candide, Voltaire

I notice how it takes a lazy man, a man that hates moving, to get set on moving once he does get started off, the same as he was set on staying still, like it aint the moving he hates so much as the starting and the stopping. And like he would be kind of proud of whatever come up to make the moving or the setting still look hard.
-- As I Lay Dying, William Faulkner

My bullshit is worth other people's diamonds.
-- Lou Reed

No matter how bad it gets, don’t kill yourself! They will make jokes about you.
-- School Is Hell, Matt Groening

The five colours blind the eye.
The five tones deafen the ear.
The five flavours dull the taste.
Racing and hunting madden the mind.
Precious things lead one astray.
Therefore the sage is guided by what he feels and not by what he sees.
He lets go of that and chooses this.
-- Tao Te Ching 12, Lao Tzu

You begin saving the world by saving one man at a time; all else is grandiose romanticism or politics.
-- Charles Bukowski

When I pray -- and sometimes I do -- I pray to myself. I pray that I can pull myself through. And if I'm lucky, I answer myself.
-- Garth Marenghi

What would you have me do?

Seek out some wealthy patron and crawl like a clinging vine up the lordly tree? Rising by deceit and trickery instead of my own strength?
No thank you.

Imitate what others do and dedicate my works to the rich in the hope of arousing a smile of recognition from some sterile face?
No thank you.

Breakfast everyday on insults, wear our my knees and warp my spine with endless bowing and groveling in the dust?
No thank you.

Become a master of hypocrisy and opportunism? Never letting my right hand know what my left is doing? Burn incense for some glorified idol of the day, pull the proper strings?
No thank you.

Shall I become the captain of some literary cult by writing stupid love songs for wealthy widows and navigate to success with their sighs filing out my sails? Pay some publisher to print my poems and bribe some critic to review them?
No, thank you!

Shall I become the high priest of a petty group of hack writers who dine together once a week?
No, I thank you!

Shall I build my reputation on one flawless poem and never write another, should I scheme to get my name mentioned in the columns of some newspaper and smack my lips over little praises written about me?
No, thank you.

Shall I calculate and scheme, live in fear, make visits instead of rhymes, meet all the right people, seek introductions and favors?
No, thank you.
No I thank you...
And again, I thank you!

Oh my friend, I prefer to sing, to laugh, to dream, to travel light in my own way to see things as they are, and speak out without fear, to cock my hat at any angle that I choose, to duel if necessary for a quick "yes" or "no." I prefer to work alone without any thought of reward, to scorn fame for a journey to the moon. Never write a line that does not ring with sincerity. I shall be content with the fruits and flowers that grow in my garden, no matter how small, because they belong to me. Then if success should come my way, no tribute ever need be paid to Caesar, whatever fortune or misfortune that happens shall be mine and only mine.

And although I may never reach the stature of a great oaken tree, I shall never be a parasitic vine. I will climb perhaps to no great height, but I will... climb... alone.
-- Cyrano DeBergerac

I'm the only thing I'm afraid of.
-- Kanye West

Except as noted, material in this journal is copyright © 2007-2009 Robert Fontenot, Jr. New Orleans, LA. All rights reserved. No text or images in it may be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed in whole or part without express written permission of the author.

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