Posts Tagged misery
Elderly Man In Makeup To Travel United States Screeching About His Grandmother
Posted by Keith Spillett in Excessive Cruelty Towards Strangers on July 13, 2014
Get ready America! Starting in October, a man qualified to receive Social Security benefits will travel this great nation howling like a banshee into an inverted cross microphone. That’s right…He’s Back (and hopefully he won’t throw His out)!
He’ll be visiting mostly warm weather climates to avoid a difficult winter, all the while taking advantage of the large number of early bird special meals geared towards persons of his demographic. His mornings will be spent consuming free Econolodge continental breakfasts and soaking himself in a tub of ice in anticipation of having to do the same routine in front of yet another group of awestruck admirers that He wants nothing to do with.
Tickets will, no doubt, be remarkably expensive in order to help Him offset the constant stream of costly doctor visits and potions meant to prolong his time on this condemned, dying planet. Luckily, he’ll be able to dodge the stillness and eternal silence of the grave for a few more years, a fate only slightly more appealing than complete oblivion.
Satan will be the subject of many of the songs that he will mercilessly caterwaul his way through. As most people above the age of seven know, Satan is a quaint, antiquated idea meant to remind people that it is possible that an evil exists that is even more terrifying than our elected government officials.
Notes, once hit by this rock luminary, will be missed with increasing frequency as this once in a lifetime series of concert events painfully marches its way to its conclusion in Austin, Texas. He will once again prove, without a shadow of doubt, that castrato vocals sound much better coming out of the mouth of a pre-pubescent child than a man old enough to be his grandfather.
An eager group of die-hard fans will get the opportunity to drown themselves in an orgy of nostalgia and binge spending on overpriced merchandise, temporarily alleviating the horrifying realities of a world gone completely insane.
They will emerge the next day from a brutal hangover induced by ten-dollar cups of flat beer late to the unfulfilling brutality of their mindless, soul-sucking chosen professions. That is, if they happen to be among the lucky people whose jobs have not be shipped off to a country where it is possible to pay workers less than a dollar a day to produce items that will be consumed and quickly forgotten.
As the lives those able to attend these shows wind to a bitter, meaningless conclusion, they can rejoice in the fact that they participated in an event they can describe to young people who will humor them by feigning attention, all the while worrying whether they have received a new text message in the last twelve seconds.
A great time should be had by all.
The Sick Among The Purell
Posted by Keith Spillett in The Poetry of Death on April 3, 2014
“I have so many selves, I cannot contain them all” –Kobo Abe
Never enough hand sanitizer
Bottles and bottles everywhere
But not a drop to drink
A bathtub filled with antiseptic
For the terminally dyspeptic
And still not enough to drown in
Never enough hand sanitizer
To kill the sin of germs
To kill the pain of waking
To kill the dissonance and consonance
Of everyday hell
Never enough hand sanitizer
To sting the wound into unbeing
All factors beyond the control
Of those who wish to vanquish
And be vanquished
Never enough hand sanitizer
To ebb the fatal tide
As the mass of men lead lives of desolate calculation
Never to emerge from slumber
Even in our waking nightmare
Obama Proposes Form Without Content; Buffalos Without Wings; Utter Hopelessness
Posted by Keith Spillett in Existential Rambings on February 24, 2012
(Washington)-In stunning pessimism, America forward never back truth without honesty is the medium of true messiness. Socialist polarized mobs running outward not outwitting death. Free to choose everything except what matters, no matter what the rules are. Debt beyond parents life as rebellious war against nothingness consuming reduced to pattern. Things explained are things forgotten against the backdrop of inhaled ignorance. “Wandering, wondering as their lives slowly slip through their greedy little fingers,” accordion to White House Repeater of Cliches Jay Carney.
They are as much a part of this disaster as we are. Stand up for the privilage of not sitting down. Anxiety as a rational response to unconscionable conditions. As it repeats over and over and we confuse action for motion and motion for freedom. And freedom for immortality. And immortality for meaning. And meaning for action. In a recent Gallup poll nearly two-thirds of buffalos have no wings and nearly one hundred percent of Americans are doomed to the terms of mortality. No matter what they’d like you to believe. Accordion to So and So Jones, person on the street and representative of the Zeitgeist, “I don’t even know what’s real anymore as I look into a world where I am bombarded with the constant flow of answers to questions that I wouldn’t have even bothered to ask. Drowning in a river of useless actions. Amused to death by the 24 hour 7 day a week carnival of unmeaning. Sweat my only solace.”
Now, here’s the paragraph about possible solutions and potential mystery. So and So who wants you to like him or her and maybe even vote that way proposes solutions that either serve the purpose of taking our eyes off the existential ball or promising something they hope we forget about in twenty minutes (which we probably will because crisis is a great substitution for crisis). So and So complains about something hoping to give us hope, or comfort, or something new to hate, or something to talk about with the other doomed fools that we are chained to, or something to buy, or something to bury. We all rally around because a recent Gallup Poll has stated, in no uncertain terms, that 51 percent of us share the same delusion.
You should write a letter to your Congressman. Because they will listen. Because they care. Because you have a solution no one else has thought of. Because democracy guarantees us the right to go on and on about absolutely nothing and replace one empty vessel with another every four years. Write that letter. Seriously. Do it. That will make everything all better. That’ll solve the issue of the sheer absurdity of the world. That’ll take the sting out of that nagging death problem that everyone seems to be conveniently not mentioning. That’ll make lions into lambs and lambs into citizens. And citizens into vampires. The world is probably in the shape that it’s in because you haven’t written that letter yet. When you do, all of your troubles will go away. You’ll see. Write the letter. Save us all.
In conclusion, eventually everything you do, every action you take will be forgotten. Everyone around you will be gone. Take comfort in the fact that you are nothing, or at least, that’s how you’ll be remembered. Besides, in a recent Fox News poll a full 105 percent of people surveyed think it’s someone else’s fault. “The solution is complete ignorance,” accordion to President Barack Obama, “that or an endless cycle of misery and fear, depression and alienation. Or government spending. Or complaining about government spending. Or endless blame. Or endless blamelessness. It’s up to you. After all, isn’t this what democracy is all about?”
The Tyranny of Tradition 