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tcmJOE_Trotsky
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Name: Paul
Birthday: 6/30/1986
Gender: Male
Interests: America I used to be a communist when I was a kid and I'm not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there's going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I'm perfectly right.
I won't say the Lord's Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven't told you what you did to Uncle Max after he came over
from Russia.
- From "America", Allen Ginsberg
Expertise: Far too many and far too few things to count. Chemistry. Drinking. Feeling socially awkward and making a damnfool of myself given every oppurtunity. Being irreverent, and oftentimes irrelevant. Not getting any sleep. The usual.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Other
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  tcmJOE
MSN: DuctTapeParadox@cncgames.every1.net
Member Since:
6/8/2004
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| Nothing too exciting, just my upcoming class schedule and my finals schedule:
Next two days: Rehearse music, prepare for Hungarian final, prepare for all the other finals, finish off Differential Geometry homework.
Friday: Hungarian final. Work on reviewing DIG with Scott and others, possibly go out and get some Belgian beer under the pretense of productivity.
Saturday: 24 hour Differential Geometry final noon until noon Sunday. Possibly meet with some of my Hungarian friends. Bike ride?
Sunday: TA for Topology, prepare for Algebra final, prepare for film final.
Monday: More preperation. Do film paper.
Tuesday: Algebra final 8 AM, Film final and paper due 12:30 PM. Collapse.
Wednesday: Clean, do last minute Hungary things. Rage.
Thursday: Be hung over and clean, do last minute Hungary things. Rage.
Friday: Wash rinse repeat. Less raging, flight leaves 8 AM Saturday.
Saturday: Plane flight home.
It's going to be a full several days.
As for next semester, I've got:
Intro to Ling 11-12 MWF
Environmental Sociology 1-2 MWF
Honors Organic Chemistry 10:50-12 TR and 2-3 F
3rd year Russian 3-5:30 T
Jazz Combo 4-6 Sunday
Junior physics lab Whenever I can fit it in
Research Also whenever I can fit it in
Physics research seminar 3-6 M
So, in essence I'm going to be working steadily from 11-6 or so everyday but the good news is that things will be reasonably steady and I do not have to get up early.
With (almost) everyone else from my grade at Rice having graduated my inclination to do work has gone down quite a bit. All the better...
Back to work...
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| <a href="http://news.scotsman.com/international.cfm?id=674042006&">Sometimes it seems like rationality does win</a> | | |
| Not a good day...Insomnia + 8 AM Topology, 10 AM Analysis + Realizing I was almost suckered into a cashier's check fraud (although infinitely better than actually being suckered) + finding out my cat has been missing from home for the past two weeks. | | |
| It's Yom KippurTime for a couple of prayers from the good Reb Allen Ginsberg.
Feel free to read afterwards when not feeling particularly impatient due to hunger.
Wichita Vortex Sutra
(taken from http://wings.buffalo.edu/cas/english/faculty/conte/syllabi/377/Wichita_Vortex.html)
I'm an old man now, and a lonesome man in Kansas
but not afraid
to speak my lonesomeness in a car,
because not only my lonesomeness
it's Ours, all over America,
O tender fellows--
& spoken lonesomeness is Prophecy
in the moon 100 years ago or in
the middle of Kansas now.
It's not the vast plains mute our mouths
that fill at midnite with ecstatic language
when our trembling bodies hold each other
breast to breast on a matress--
the feeling from our faces
nor our skirts and trousers that conceal
the bodylove emanating in a glow of beloved skin,
white smooth abdomen down to the hair
between our legs,
It's not a God that bore us that forbid
our Being, like a sunny rose
all red with naked joy
between our eyes & bellies, yes
All we do is for this frightened thing
we call Love, want and lack--
fear that we aren't the one whose body could be
beloved of all the brides of Kansas City,
kissed all over by every boy of Wichita--
O but how many in their solitude weep aloud like me--
On the bridge over the Republican River
almost in tears to know
how to speak the right language--
on the frosty broad road
uphill between highway embankments
I search for the language
that is also yours--
almost all our language has been taxed by war.
Radio antennae high tension
wires ranging from Junction City across the plains--
highway cloverleaf sunk in a vast meadow
lanes curving past Abilene
to Denver filled with old
heroes of love--
to Wichita where McClure's mind
burst into animal beauty
drunk, getting laid in a car
in a neon misted street
15 years ago--
to Independence where the old man's still alive
who loosed the bomb that's slaved all human consciousness
and made the body universe a place of fear--
Now, speeding along the empty plain,
no giant demon machine
visible on the horizon
but tiny human trees and wooden houses at the sky's edge
I claim my birthright!
reborn forever as long as Man
in Kansas or other universe--Joy
reborn after the vast sadness of War Gods!
A lone man talking to myself, no house in the brown vastness to hear,
imaging the throng of Selves
that make this nation one body of Prophecy
languaged by Declaration as
Happiness!
I call all Powers of imagination
to my side in this auto to make Prophecy,
all Lords
of human kingdoms to come
Shambu Bharti Baba naked covered with ash
Khaki Baba fat-bellied mad with the dogs
Dehorahava Baba who moans Oh how wounded, How wounded
Sitaram Onkar Das Thakur who commands
give up your desire
Satyananda who raises two thumbs in tranquility
Kali Pada Guha Roy whose yoga drops before the void
Shivananda who touches the breast and says OM
Srimata Krishnaji of Brindaban who says take for your guru
William Blake the invisible father of English visions
Sri Ramakrishna master of ecstasy eyes
half closed who only cries for his mother
Chaitanya arms upraised singing & dancing his own praise
merciful Chango judging our bodies
Durga-Ma covered with blood
destroyer of battlefield illusions
million-faced Tathagata gone past suffering
Preserver Harekrishna returning in the age of pain
Sacred Heart my Christ acceptable
Allah the Compassionate One
Jahweh Righteous One
all Knowledge-Princes of Earth-man, all
ancient Seraphim of heavenly Desire, Devas, yogis
& holymen I chant to--
Come to my lone presence
into this Vortex named Kansas,
I lift my voice aloud,
make Mantra of American language now,
I here declare the end of the War!
Ancient days' Illusion!
and pronounce words beginning my own millennium.
Let the States tremble,
let the Nation weep,
let Congress legislate it own delight
let the President execute his own desire--
this Act done by my own voice,
nameless Mystery--
published to my own senses,
blissfully received by my own form
approved with pleasure by my sensations
manifestation of my very thought
accomplished in my own imagination
all realms within my consciousness fulfilled
60 miles from Wichita
near El Dorado,
The Golden One,
in chill earthly mist
houseless brown farmland plains rolling heavenward
in every direction
one midwinter afternoon Sunday called the day of the Lord--
Pure Spring Water gathered in one tower
where Florence is
set on a hill,
stop for tea & gas
Footnote to Howl
(http://www.fort.org/ginsberg_footnote_to_howl.html)
Footnote to Howl
Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy!
Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy!
The world is holy! The soul is holy! The skin is holy!
The nose is holy! The tongue and cock and hand
and asshole holy!
Everything is holy! everybody's holy! everywhere is
holy! everyday is in eternity! Everyman's an
angel!
The bum's as holy as the seraphim! the madman is
holy as you my soul are holy!
The typewriter is holy the poem is holy the voice is
holy the hearers are holy the ecstasy is holy!
Holy Peter holy Allen holy Solomon holy Lucien holy
Kerouac holy Huncke holy Burroughs holy Cas-
sady holy the unknown buggered and suffering
beggars holy the hideous human angels!
Holy my mother in the insane asylum! Holy the cocks
of the grandfathers of Kansas!
Holy the groaning saxophone! Holy the bop
apocalypse! Holy the jazzbands marijuana
hipsters peace & junk & drums!
Holy the solitudes of skyscrapers and pavements! Holy
the cafeterias filled with the millions! Holy the
mysterious rivers of tears under the streets!
Holy the lone juggernaut! Holy the vast lamb of the
middle class! Holy the crazy shepherds of rebell-
ion! Who digs Los Angeles IS Los Angeles!
Holy New York Holy San Francisco Holy Peoria &
Seattle Holy Paris Holy Tangiers Holy Moscow
Holy Istanbul!
Holy time in eternity holy eternity in time holy the
clocks in space holy the fourth dimension holy
the fifth International holy the Angel in Moloch!
Holy the sea holy the desert holy the railroad holy the
locomotive holy the visions holy the hallucina-
tions holy the miracles holy the eyeball holy the
abyss!
Holy forgiveness! mercy! charity! faith! Holy! Ours!
bodies! suffering! magnanimity!
Holy the supernatural extra brilliant intelligent
kindness of the soul! | | |
| For those few who haven't seen them yet, I've got photos up of Hungary: http://picasaweb.google.com/tcmJOE Go! Go live vicariously through me! | | |
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