The Nile Song

I was standing by the Nile
Whe I saw the lady smile.
I would take her out for a while,
For a while. Light tears wept like a child.
How her golden hair was blowing wild.
Then she spread her wings to fly,
For to fly. Soaring high above the breezes,
Going always where she pleases.
She will make it to the island in the sun.
I will follw in her shadow
As I watch her from my window.
One day I will catch her eye. She is calling from the deep,
Summoning my soul to endless sleep.
She is bound to drag me down,
Drag me down.

Rules of Life

Life may seam chaotic at times but as our good friend and role model Walter Sobcheck would say : This is not 'Nam, there are rules. As time flows bye with the right kind of attitude one can get hold of them in a condensed way to form a clear picture of the most important ones, the ones which govern subconsciously all of us.

The Golden Rule of Social Networking If a person has more than two pictures of himself or herself on a social networking site than he or she desperately wants to fuck.

Esteban's Rule of Waste Management The last drop always ends up in the undies.

The Holistic Rule of Commercial Success In any supermarket at any given time there is one cashier less open than it is needed.

My Father's Rule of Human Condition After 40 you wake up and feel no pain it means that you are dead.

First Rule of Human Behavior by the Internets Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.

The Golden Rule of the Dude Sometimes you eat the bear but sometimes the bear eats you.


If anyone recalls any other significant axioms I skipped please do not hesitate to contact me with them... Knowledge is Power I promise I will post them.

State of the World

Day by day I read articles, news sites, blogs with ever growing concern, It's like the whole world is sliding into a dark age of anti-intellectualism, vulgarism and religious hatred, there are some things I simply cannot comprehend, for instance the hindus with there really laid-back religion are committing atrocities against christians or the amount of lies the american public can consume like sheep from their so called leaders, the orvelian surveillance state style Britain has adopted, the chinese style internet censorship in Australia all of them are pointing to the wrong direction ... sad times are ahead .... I do not see any good outcome, any solution ...

The Fletcher Memorial Home (Waters)

Take all your overgrown infants away somewhere
And build them a home, a little place of their own.
The Fletcher Memorial
Home for Incurable Tyrants and Kings.

And they can appear to themselves every day
On closed circuit T.V.
To make sure they're still real.
It's the only connection they feel.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, Reagan and Haig,
Mr. Begin and friend, Mrs. Thatcher, and Paisly,
"Hello Maggie!"
Mr. Brezhnev and party.
"Scusi dov'è il bar?"
The ghost of McCarthy,
The memories of Nixon.
"Who's the bald chap?"
"Good-bye!"
And now, adding colour, a group of anonymous latin-
American meat packing glitterati.

Did they expect us to treat them with any respect?
They can polish their medals and sharpen their
Smiles, and amuse themselves playing games for awhile.
Boom boom, bang bang, lie down you're dead.

Safe in the permanent gaze of a cold glass eye
With their favorite toys
They'll be good girls and boys
In the Fletcher Memorial Home for colonial
Wasters of life and limb.

Is everyone in?
Are you having a nice time?
Now the final solution can be applied.

Quote of the Day

Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.(Oscar Wilde)

Quantum Mechanics

Steve Jobs qoute on the textedit icon....

Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can praise them, disagree with them, quote them, disbelieve them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things.

London

Frontal sonic impregnation
God save the Queen by Jay-Z
Second floor... Going down
A white trash can with purple dotts
A greyscale double-decker
God save Jay-Z by the Queen
They beat the drums they brought from far, every night
Shaving in front of the caleidoscope
There is good service on all lifelines
Come on just a quick fuck...
Motion blur and fast forward
Children singing pop songs with Santa
United colors of Benetton
The melting pot of dreams
We are talking about the weather in our suits
Two memories with milk and sugar ... Take-away please

Quote by Anonymous

Sometimes, when I get lonely, the clouds give me company

Wisdom of the day

In the book of life, the answers aren’t in the back.
-Charlie Brown

Moods

I got this gray sorry ass mood from Monday on ... maybe just my sleeping cycle was disturbed, I had one night off. I really miss those five hours. I am just wandering around like a zombie in and out the office, on the Tube, ... home. I am not depressed, it feels distant ... I see things happening around me, people care for things, they do things, they make jokes, they laugh ... all is lame, meaningless, no reason for joy but no reason to complain either ... others are much more fucked than I am. There is no justice; like there is an Universal Random Number Generator (URNG) somewhere in the middle of the universe, and everyone has a number, if it hits yours... you are fucked ... with all your good or bad karma or whatever you call all that you have done before .... it still didn't hit mine, I'm safe, at least for now...
Strange that after what happened to my close friends I don't feel a fuckin thing anymore, maybe I saw it coming, thousands of tiny particles of omen all swarming in a common direction, it happened, it's over. All those feelings of sorry were consumed before ... in the last two years as I watched their downward spiral from a VIP first row seat. Crap movie ... mad director, little or no special effects, sad story. As for who did what with who ? I don't care ... they were in it together ... I'm out of pop-corns... bye

Cleanup

There was a cleanup going on here, I erased a bunch of posts cause I don't need them any more, I am sure in a couple of years they will be traded on the Black Market as rare collector's items...:)

Nightmare

Sad news, everyone is shocked, we all lost a good friend in a nonsense act of foolishness, there is nothing anyone can do about it anymore, no hope for the better, no second chance, no "see you again". Life is a bitch. Faith and Hope are meaningless. The consequences are like shock-waves, destroying lives,filling souls with mourning and sorrow. There is nothing to understand. Rest in Peace Z.

Thompson on Leary and stuff

We are all wired into a survival trip now. No more of the speed that fueled the Sixties. Uppers are going out of style. This was the fatal flaw in Tim Leary's trip. He crashed around America selling "consciousness expansion" without ever giving a thought to the grim meat-hook realities that were lying in wait for all the people who took him too seriously. After West Point and the Priesthood, LSD must have seemed entirely logical to him . . . but there is not much satisfaction in knowing that he blew it very badly for himself, because he took too many others down with him.
Not that they didn't deserve it: No doubt they all Got What Was Coming To Them. All those pathetically eager acid freaks who thought they could buy Peace and Understanding for three bucks a hit. But their failure is ours, too.
What Leary took down with him was the central illusion of a whole life-style that he helped to create . . . a generation of permanent cripples, failed seekers, who never understood the essential old-mystic fallacy of the Acid Culture: the desperate assumption that somebody-or at least some force-is tending that Light at the end of the tunnel.

Hunter S. Thompson about hope and reality

Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years later? Six? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a Main Era - the kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run . . . but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were here and alive in that corner of time and the world.
Whatever it meant . . . .
History is hard to know, because of all the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of “history” it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash, for reasons that nobody really understands at the time - and which never explain, in retrospect, what actually happened.My central memory of that time seems to hang on one or five or maybe forty nights - or very early mornings - when I left the Fillmore half - crazy and, instead of going home, aimed the big 650 Lightning across the Bay Bridge at a hundred miles an hour wearing L. L. Bean shorts and a Butte sheepherder’s jacket . . . booming through the Treasure Island tunnel at the lights of Oakland and Berkeley and Richmond, not quite sure which turn - off to take when I got to the other end (always stalling at the toll - gate, too twisted to find neutral while I fumbled for change) . . . but being absolutely certain that no matter which way I went I would come to a place where people were just as high and wild as I was: No doubt at all about that. .There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda. . . . You could strike sparks anywhere.
There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning.And that, I think, was the handle - that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting - on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave.
So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high - water mark - that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.

Sandman

Simply the best comic book ever, the unique style of Gaiman's story telling, cool dark atmosphere, it's about someone who's older sister is Death herself...


- I think the whole world's gone mad.

- Uh-Uh. It's always been like this. You probably just don't get out enough.



"Every story has got a happy end - you just have to know when you stop telling."

I Might be Wrong