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​


"it’s true this world our breathing laboured​

inspires nothing more than obvious disgust​

a desire to flee without our share​

and no longer read the headlines​

​

we long to return to our ancestral home​

where our forebears once lived under an angel’s wing​

we long to find that strange morality​

which sanctified life to the end​

​

we crave something like loyalty​

like the embrace of mild addictions​

something that transcends yet contains life​

we cannot live far from eternity” ​

Michel Houellebecq
 
Rosetta Stoned by Tool

Alrighty, then. Picture this if you will:

[Verse 1]
10 to 2 AM, X, Yogi DMT, and a box of Krispy Kremes
In my "need to know" pose, just outside of Area 51
Contemplating the whole "chosen people" thingy
When just then a flaming stealth banana split the sky
Like one would hope but never really expect to see in a place like this
Cutting right angle donuts on a dime
And stopping right at my Birkenstocks
And me yelping, "holy fucking shit"
Holy fucking shit (x 6)

[Verse 2]
Then the X-File being
Looking like some kind of blue-green Jackie Chan
With Isabella Rossellini lips, and breath that reeked of
Vanilla Chig Champa
Did a slow-mo Matrix descent
Outta the butt end of the banana vessel
And hovered above my bug-eyes, my gaping jaw
And my sweaty L. Ron Hubbard upper lip
And all I could think was
"I hope Uncle Martin here doesn't notice
That I pissed my fuckin' pants"

[Verse 3]
So light in his way, like an apparition, that
He had me crying out
"Fuck me, it's gotta be
The Deadhead Chemistry
The blotter got right on top of me
Got me seein' E-motherfuckin'-T"

[Verse 4]
And after calming me down
With some orange slices
And some fetal spooning
E.T. revealed to me his singular purpose
He said, "You are the chosen one
The one who will deliver the message
A message of hope for those who choose to hear it
And a warning for those who do not"
Me, the chosen one
They chose me
And I didn't even graduate from fuckin' high school

[Refrain]
You'd better (x 3)
You'd better listen

[Verse 5]
Then he looked right through me
With somniferous almond eyes
Don't even know what that means
Must remember to write it down
This is so real
Like the time Dave floated away
See, my heart is pounding
'Cause this shit never happens to me

[Verse 6]
I can't breathe right now
It was so real
Like I woke up in Wonderland
All sorta terrifying
I don't wanna be all alone
While I tell this story
And can anyone tell me why
You all sound like Peanuts parents?
Will I ever be coming down?
This is so real
Finally, it's my lucky day
See, my heart is racing
'Cause this shit never happens to me

[Verse 7]
I can't breathe right now
You believe me, don't you?
Please believe what I've just said
See the Dead ain't touring
And this wasn't all in my head
See, they took me by the hand
And invited me right in
Then they showed me something
I don't even know where to begin
[Chorus]
Strapped down to my bed
Feet cold and eyes red
I'm out of my head
Am I alive? Am I dead?
Can't remember what they said
God damn, shit the bed

[Bridge]
Overwhelmed as one would be, placed in my position
Such a heavy burden now to be the one
Born to bear and bring to all the details of our ending
To write it down for all the world to see
But I forgot my pen
Shit the bed again
Typical

[Chorus]
Strapped down to my bed
Feet cold and eyes red
I'm out of my head
Am I alive? Am I dead?
Sunkist and Sudafed
Gyroscopes and infrared
Won't help, I'm brain dead
Can't remember what they said
God damn, shit the bed

[Verse 8]
I can't remember what they said to me
Can't remember what they said to make me out to be the hero
Can't remember what they said
Bob help me
Can't remember what they said

[Outro]
Don't know, won't know (x 12)
God damn, shit the bed
 
Poem 013: Did I Miss Anything?
Nothing. When we realized you weren’t here
we sat with our hands folded on our desks
in silence, for the full two hours

Everything. I gave an exam worth
40 percent of the grade for this term
and assigned some reading due today
on which I’m about to hand out a quiz
worth 50 percent

Nothing. None of the content of this course
has value or meaning
Take as many days off as you like:
any activities we undertake as a class
I assure you will not matter either to you or me
and are without purpose

Everything. A few minutes after we began last time
a shaft of light suddenly descended and an angel
or other heavenly being appeared
and revealed to us what each woman or man must do
to attain divine wisdom in this life and
the hereafter
This is the last time the class will meet
before we disperse to bring the good news to all people on earth.

Nothing. When you are not present
how could something significant occur?

Everything. Contained in this classroom
is a microcosm of human experience
assembled for you to query and examine and ponder
This is not the only place such an opportunity has been gathered

but it was one place

And you weren’t here

—Tom Wayman
Click to expand...
 
unodelacosa said:
Rosetta Stoned by Tool

Alrighty, then. Picture this if you will:

[Verse 1]
10 to 2 AM, X, Yogi DMT, and a box of Krispy Kremes
In my "need to know" pose, just outside of Area 51
Contemplating the whole "chosen people" thingy
When just then a flaming stealth banana split the sky
Like one would hope but never really expect to see in a place like this
Cutting right angle donuts on a dime
And stopping right at my Birkenstocks
And me yelping, "holy fucking shit"
Holy fucking shit (x 6)

[Verse 2]
Then the X-File being
Looking like some kind of blue-green Jackie Chan
With Isabella Rossellini lips, and breath that reeked of
Vanilla Chig Champa
Did a slow-mo Matrix descent
Outta the butt end of the banana vessel
And hovered above my bug-eyes, my gaping jaw
And my sweaty L. Ron Hubbard upper lip
And all I could think was
"I hope Uncle Martin here doesn't notice
That I pissed my fuckin' pants"

[Verse 3]
So light in his way, like an apparition, that
He had me crying out
"Fuck me, it's gotta be
The Deadhead Chemistry
The blotter got right on top of me
Got me seein' E-motherfuckin'-T"

[Verse 4]
And after calming me down
With some orange slices
And some fetal spooning
E.T. revealed to me his singular purpose
He said, "You are the chosen one
The one who will deliver the message
A message of hope for those who choose to hear it
And a warning for those who do not"
Me, the chosen one
They chose me
And I didn't even graduate from fuckin' high school

[Refrain]
You'd better (x 3)
You'd better listen

[Verse 5]
Then he looked right through me
With somniferous almond eyes
Don't even know what that means
Must remember to write it down
This is so real
Like the time Dave floated away
See, my heart is pounding
'Cause this shit never happens to me

[Verse 6]
I can't breathe right now
It was so real
Like I woke up in Wonderland
All sorta terrifying
I don't wanna be all alone
While I tell this story
And can anyone tell me why
You all sound like Peanuts parents?
Will I ever be coming down?
This is so real
Finally, it's my lucky day
See, my heart is racing
'Cause this shit never happens to me

[Verse 7]
I can't breathe right now
You believe me, don't you?
Please believe what I've just said
See the Dead ain't touring
And this wasn't all in my head
See, they took me by the hand
And invited me right in
Then they showed me something
I don't even know where to begin
[Chorus]
Strapped down to my bed
Feet cold and eyes red
I'm out of my head
Am I alive? Am I dead?
Can't remember what they said
God damn, shit the bed

[Bridge]
Overwhelmed as one would be, placed in my position
Such a heavy burden now to be the one
Born to bear and bring to all the details of our ending
To write it down for all the world to see
But I forgot my pen
Shit the bed again
Typical

[Chorus]
Strapped down to my bed
Feet cold and eyes red
I'm out of my head
Am I alive? Am I dead?
Sunkist and Sudafed
Gyroscopes and infrared
Won't help, I'm brain dead
Can't remember what they said
God damn, shit the bed

[Verse 8]
I can't remember what they said to me
Can't remember what they said to make me out to be the hero
Can't remember what they said
Bob help me
Can't remember what they said

[Outro]
Don't know, won't know (x 12)
God damn, shit the bed
Click to expand...
Are those really the lyrics to that song? Damn I never would've guessed lmao
 

Annabel Lee​

BY EDGAR ALLAN POE
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee—
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
 
“I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this and know that, yes, it's true I'm here, and I'm just as strange as you.”

- Frida Kahlo
 
A Wish

I ask not that my bed of death
From bands of greedy heirs be free;
For these besiege the latest breath
Of fortune's favoured sons, not me.

I ask not each kind soul to keep
Tearless, when of my death he hears;
Let those who will, if any, weep!
There are worse plagues on earth than tears.

I ask but that my death may find
The freedom to my life denied;
Ask but the folly of mankind,
Then, at last, to quit my side.

Spare me the whispering, crowded room,
The friends who come, and gape, and go;
The ceremonious air of gloom -
All which makes death a hideous show!

Nor bring, to see me cease to live,
Some doctor full of phrase and fame,
To shake his sapient head and give
The ill he cannot cure a name.

Nor fetch, to take the accustomed toll
Of the poor sinner bound for death,
His brother doctor of the soul,
To canvass with official breath

The future and its viewless things -
That undiscovered mystery
Which one who feels death's winnowing wings
Must need read clearer, sure, than he!

Bring none of these; but let me be,
While all around in silence lies,
Moved to the window near, and see
Once more before my dying eyes

Bathed in the sacred dew of morn
The wide aerial landscape spread -
The world which was ere I was born,
The world which lasts when I am dead.

Which never was the friend of one,
Nor promised love it could not give,
But lit for all its generous sun,
And lived itself, and made us live.

There let me gaze, till I become
In soul with what I gaze on wed!
To feel the universe my home;
To have before my mind -instead

Of the sick-room, the mortal strife,
The turmoil for a little breath -
The pure eternal course of life,
Not human combatings with death.

Thus feeling, gazing, let me grow
Composed, refreshed, ennobled, clear;
Then willing let my spirit go
To work or wait elsewhere or here!

—Matthew Arnold
 
"The ancient Irish had a saying: 'You don't give a man a weapon until you've taught him how to dance.' In other words, a different kind of learning is required before someone can be truly trusted with social power and potent things like weapons. If a man does not know the wounds of his own soul, he can deny not just his own pain, but also be unmoved by the suffering of other people. More than that, he will tend to put his wound onto others. He may only be able to see the wound that secretly troubles him when he forcefully projects it into someone else, in forms of abuse or violence.

So in the old culture-making idea, in order to properly bear arms a person must first become disarmed, as in becoming vulnerable and connected to something meaningful and supportive of life. The idea of forging the temperament of young men took precedence over the idea of simply giving them weapons at a certain age. The tempering of the souls involved discovering what kind of anger each might carry and learning about the inner line where anger turned into blind rage. Becoming tempered also meant immersing in the sorrow of one's life and thereby being in touch with the grief of the world."

- Michael Meade
 
Gunga Din
By Rudyard Kipling

Code: 
You may talk o’ gin and beer  
When you’re quartered safe out ’ere,  
An’ you’re sent to penny-fights an’ Aldershot it;
But when it comes to slaughter  
You will do your work on water,
An’ you’ll lick the bloomin’ boots of ’im that’s got it.  
Now in Injia’s sunny clime,  
Where I used to spend my time  
A-servin’ of ’Er Majesty the Queen,  
Of all them blackfaced crew  
The finest man I knew
Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din,  
      He was ‘Din! Din! Din!
   ‘You limpin’ lump o’ brick-dust, Gunga Din!
      ‘Hi! Slippy hitherao
      ‘Water, get it! Panee lao,
   ‘You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din.’

The uniform ’e wore
Was nothin’ much before,
An’ rather less than ’arf o’ that be’ind,
For a piece o’ twisty rag  
An’ a goatskin water-bag
Was all the field-equipment ’e could find.
When the sweatin’ troop-train lay
In a sidin’ through the day,
Where the ’eat would make your bloomin’ eyebrows crawl,
We shouted ‘Harry By!’
Till our throats were bricky-dry,
Then we wopped ’im ’cause ’e couldn’t serve us all.
      It was ‘Din! Din! Din!
   ‘You ’eathen, where the mischief ’ave you been?  
      ‘You put some juldee in it
      ‘Or I’ll marrow you this minute
   ‘If you don’t fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!’

’E would dot an’ carry one
Till the longest day was done;
An’ ’e didn’t seem to know the use o’ fear.
If we charged or broke or cut,
You could bet your bloomin’ nut,
’E’d be waitin’ fifty paces right flank rear.  
With ’is mussick on ’is back,
’E would skip with our attack,
An’ watch us till the bugles made 'Retire,’  
An’ for all ’is dirty ’ide
’E was white, clear white, inside
When ’e went to tend the wounded under fire!  
      It was ‘Din! Din! Din!’
   With the bullets kickin’ dust-spots on the green.  
      When the cartridges ran out,
      You could hear the front-ranks shout,  
   ‘Hi! ammunition-mules an' Gunga Din!’

I shan’t forgit the night
When I dropped be’ind the fight
With a bullet where my belt-plate should ’a’ been.  
I was chokin’ mad with thirst,
An’ the man that spied me first
Was our good old grinnin’, gruntin’ Gunga Din.  
’E lifted up my ’ead,
An’ he plugged me where I bled,
An’ ’e guv me ’arf-a-pint o’ water green.
It was crawlin’ and it stunk,
But of all the drinks I’ve drunk,
I’m gratefullest to one from Gunga Din.
      It was 'Din! Din! Din!
   ‘’Ere’s a beggar with a bullet through ’is spleen;  
   ‘’E's chawin’ up the ground,
      ‘An’ ’e’s kickin’ all around:
   ‘For Gawd’s sake git the water, Gunga Din!’

’E carried me away
To where a dooli lay,
An’ a bullet come an’ drilled the beggar clean.  
’E put me safe inside,
An’ just before ’e died,
'I ’ope you liked your drink,’ sez Gunga Din.  
So I’ll meet ’im later on
At the place where ’e is gone—
Where it’s always double drill and no canteen.  
’E’ll be squattin’ on the coals
Givin’ drink to poor damned souls,
An’ I’ll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!  
      Yes, Din! Din! Din!
   You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!  
   Though I’ve belted you and flayed you,  
      By the livin’ Gawd that made you,
   You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
 
When I die
Bury me deep
Plant some pot
Around my feet
Place some papers
In my hand
And I'll roll my way to the Promised Land
 
INVICTUS
by William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbow'd.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
 
That's a pretty big trunk on my Lincoln town car, ain't it?
Big enough to take these broken hearts and put 'em in it
Now I'm drivin' 'round on the boulevard, trunk bleedin'
And everytime the cops pull me over, they don't ever see them
They never see them
And I've got this black suit on
Roamin' around like I'm ready for a funeral
Five more miles till the road runs out
I'm about to drive in the ocean
I'ma try to swim from somethin' bigger than me
Kick off my shoes
And swim good, and swim good
Take off this suit
And swim good, and swim good, good
Got some pretty good beats on this 808 CD, yeah
Memory seats I'm sittin' on stay heated
I woulda put tints on my windows but what's the difference?
If I feel like a Ghost, no Swayze
Ever since I lost my baby
I've had this black suit on
Roamin' around like I'm ready for a funeral
One more mile till the road runs out
I'm about to drive in the ocean
I'ma try to swim from somethin' bigger than me
Kick off my shoes
And swim good, and swim good
Take off this suit
And swim good, and swim good, good
I'm goin' off (oh, my pretty love)
Don't try stoppin' me
I'm goin' off (throw me a line)
Don't try savin' me (broke my heart)
No flares (broke my heart)
No vest (drove my love)
And no fear
Waves are washin' me out
I'm about to drive in the ocean
I'ma try to swim from somethin' bigger than me
Kick off my shoes
And swim good, and swim good
Take off this suit
And swim good, and swim good, good
Don't die
 
(And this one, just to be funny lol)

I want all the smoke
Come and kill me bitch
When they pop your lil homie you was feeling sick
I got Glocks I got chops I got hella shit
I got 2 bad hoes sucking on my dick
 
Found this gem today, courtesy of H Mencken:

A professional politician is a professionally dishonorable man. In order to get anywhere near high office he has to make so many compromises and submit to so many humiliations that he becomes indistinguishable from a streetwalker.
Click to expand...

It really explains so much.
 
gordonliddy said:
Found this gem today, courtesy of H Mencken:



It really explains so much.
Click to expand...

“The major problem—one of the major problems, for there are several—one of the many major problems with governing people is that of whom you get to do it; or rather of who manages to get people to let them do it to them.
To summarize: it is a well-known fact that those people who must want to rule people are, ipso facto, those least suited to do it.
To summarize the summary: anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job.”
The Restaurant at the End of the Universe ​

 
This is the end, beautiful friend
This is the end, my only friend
The end of our elaborate plans
The end of everything that stands
The end
No safety or surprise
The end
I'll never look into your eyes again
Can you picture what will be?
So limitless and free
Desperately in need of some stranger's hand
In a desperate land
Lost in a Roman wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain
There's danger on the edge of town
Ride the king's highway
Weird scenes inside the gold mine
Ride the highway West, baby
Ride the snake
Ride the snake
To the lake
The ancient lake, baby
The snake is long
Seven miles
Ride the snake
He's old
And his skin is cold
The West is the best
The West is the best
Get here and we'll do the rest
The blue bus is calling us
The blue bus is calling us
Driver, where are you taking us?
The killer awoke before dawn
He put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery
And he walked on down the hall
He went into the room where his sister lived
And then he paid a visit to his brother
And then he, he walked on down the hallway
And he came to a door
And he looked inside
"Father?"
"Yes, son?"
"I want to kill you"
"Mother, I want to..."
Come on, yeah
Come on, baby, take a chance with us
Come on, baby, take a chance with us
Come on, baby, take a chance with us
And meet me at the back of the blue bus

The doors
 
Last edited:
I wanna lock Betty Crocker in the kitchen
And knock her upper during supper
Clutter up her butter gutter
Hostess Ding Dong wrapped an eggroll around my wong
While Dolly Madison proceeded to ping my pong
Your Milky Way is M'n'M in your britches
And I'll tell you Baby Ruth it looks mighty delicious
Keep blowing my gum, 'cause here I come
I'm gonna get you all sticky with my Bubble Yum
Knick knack paddywhack and give your dog a bone, baby
I was giving some head to a loaf of french bread
It was a four course orgy on the spread of my bed
French kissing french fries in my Fruit of the Looms
I get deeper penetration with a fork and a spoon
I got yogurt meat loaf smeared all over my ass
I stick my wiener in two buns and I give it the gas
Sour cream from my spleen into Levi jeans
Gonna bust the seams with my refried beans
Ronald McDonald just loves to be fondled
With Big Mac he'll fuck it like a Chicken McNugget
Colonel Sanders wants to goose Granny's loose caboose
He's gonna give her a boost with that Kentucky fried juice
Sooper doop poop scoop, loop de loop, chicken coop
Shoot some hoop, top sirloin from the groin
Topped with dick cheese, sneeze, wheeze,
From the skeez disease, wooi!
Take a dump, baby, squirt some gravy
Pour some sugar on me, honey, make it brown & runny
Give a little Flavor Flav, back from the grave
Gonna burn some toast, pump some humpin' rump roast
Knick knack paddywhack, jump in the sack, in fact
Jerk the smack and crack Jack from the back
Bananarama or ramabanana
Fuckin' Barry Manilow on the Copa Cabana

Squeeze me macaroni, slop your face with my bologna
You gotta syphon the spinach, you gotta cream the corn
Sperm scrambles the eggs and a meal is born
Cookin' like a beginner, but I'm goin' up in her
I had Fritos for lunch I'm havin' bush for dinner
Chef Boyardee and the Three Muskateers
Shove Charleston Chews in their rears like queers
"Holy moly, guacamole!" said my Chips Ahoy
I'm gonna pinch a ravioli on the Pillsbury dough boy
Knick knack paddywhack and give your dog a boner, baby
We came to pottie... we came to pottie down your throat
("Raymond, where's the fuckin' beer man?")
("Do you want me to pour it?")
("No I want you to fuck it! ...Shit yes, pour the fucking beer!")
("Where's the glasses? That beer's going to get warm... One thing I can't fuckin' stand is warm beer, it makes me fuckin' puke!")

("Darling, where's the glasses?")

("Party! Party!"
"Get the fuck out of here!"
"Get those tits out bitch!"
"Get out of my fucking house!"
"Gimme some beer, dude!"
"Party! Party!"
"Hey man!"
"You gotta pinch a loaf in the toilet man!"
"Dude did that chick just grab your balls?")

("Oh cheeks, oh god, tight fucking cheeks. Oh god, oh yeah. Magazines, magazines... festival? Carnival? Fuckin' carnival man...")

—Mr. Bungle in Squeeze Me Macaroni
 
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