Now Playing Tracks

My stomach isn’t handling the alcohol well and I had to deal with some shit and I lost my buzz and now I’m just not really in the mood so I’m just gonna watch The Wire and read for the rest of the night. Sorry to disappoint.

I remember when I used to think everything except light beer and lagers was gross. I hope I grow in to whiskey too. I’ve been trying to just force it down in the hopes that one day it will be good… but it’s just not happening yet… Tonight it’s just not worth it.

deadbeatsblog:

Letter from Neal Cassady to Jack Kerouac (March 7, 1947)
Dear Jack:,

I am sitting in a bar on Market St. I’m drunk, well, not quite, but I soon will be. I am here for 2 reasons; I must wait 5 hours for the bus to Denver & lastly but, most importantly, I’m here (drinking) because, of course, because of a woman & what a woman! To be chronological about it:

I was sitting on the bus when it took on more passengers at Indianapolis, Indiana — a perfectly proportioned beautiful, intellectual, passionate, personification of Venus De Milo asked me if the seat beside me was taken!!! I gulped, (I’m drunk) gargled & stammered NO! (Paradox of expression, after all, how can one stammer No!!?) She sat — I sweated — She started to speak, I knew it would be generalities, so to tempt her I remained silent.

She (her name Patricia) got on the bus at 8 PM (Dark!) I didn’t speak until 10 PM — in the intervening 2 hours I not only of course, determined to make her, but, how to DO IT.

I naturally can’t quote the conversation verbally, however, I shall attempt to give you the gist of it from 10 PM to 2 AM.

Without the slightest preliminaries of objective remarks (what’s your name? where are you going? etc.) I plunged into a completely knowing, completely subjective, personal & so to speak “penetrating her core” way of speech; to be shorter (since I’m getting unable to write) by 2 AM I had her swearing eternal love, complete subjectivity to me & immediate satisfaction. I, anticipating even more pleasure, wouldn’t allow her to blow me on the bus, instead we played, as they say, with each other.

Knowing her supremely perfect being was completely mine (when I’m more coherent, I’ll tell you her complete history & psychological reason for loving me) I could concieve of no obstacle to my satisfaction, well “the best laid plans of mice & men go astray” and my nemesis was her sister, the bitch.

Pat had told me her reason for going to St. Louis was to see her sister; she had wired her to meet her at the depot. So, to get rid of the sister, we peeked around the depot when we arrived at St. Louis at 4 AM to see if she (her sister) was present. If not, Pat would claim her suitcase, change clothes in the rest room & she and I proceed to a hotel room for a night (years?) of perfect bliss. The sister was not in sight, so She (not the capital) claimed her bag & retired to the toilet to change —— long dash ——

This next paragraph must, of necessity, be written completely objectively —

Edith (her sister) & Patricia (my love) walked out of the pisshouse hand in hand (I shan’t describe my emotions). It seems Edith (bah) arrived at the bus depot early & while waiting for Patricia, feeling sleepy, retired to the head to sleep on a sofa. That’s why Pat & I didn’t see her.

My desperate efforts to free Pat from Edith failed, even Pat’s terror & slave-like feeling toward her rebelled enough to state she must see “someone” & would meet Edith later, all failed. Edith was wise; she saw what was happening between Pat & I.

Well, to summarize: Pat & I stood in the depot (in plain sight of the sister) & pushing up to one another, vowed to never love again & then I took the bus to Kansas City & Pat went home, meekly, with her dominating sister. Alas, alas ——

In complete (try & share my feeling) dejection, I sat, as the bus progressed toward Kansas City. At Columbia, Mo. a young (19) completely passive (my meat) virgin got on & shared my seat … In my dejection over losing Pat, the perfect, I decided to sit on the bus (behind the driver) in broad daylight & seduce her, from 10:30 AM to 2:30 PM I talked. When I was done, she (confused, her entire life upset, metaphysically amazed at me, passionate in her immaturity) called her folks in Kansas City, & went with me to a park (it was just getting dark) & I banged her; I screwed as never before; all my pent up emotion finding release in this young virgin (& she was) who is, by the way, a school teacher! Imagine, she’s had 2 years of Mo. St. Teacher’s College & now teaches Jr. High School. (I’m beyond thinking straightly).

I’m going to stop writing. Oh, yes, to free myself for a moment from my emotions, you must read ‘Dead Souls’ parts of it (in which Gogol shows his insight) are quite like you.

I’ll elaborate further later (probably?) but at the moment I’m drunk and happy (after all, I’m free of Patricia already, due to the young virgin. I have no name for her. At the happy note of Les Young’s ‘jumping at Mesners’ (which I’m hearing) I close till later.

To my Brother
Carry On!
N.L. Cassady

pbsthisdayinhistory:

July 30, 1863: Henry Ford is Born

On this day in 1863, American automobile maker Henry Ford was born in Greenfield, Michigan.  He incorporated the Ford Motor Company in 1903, and five years later, the company began producing the Model T, considered to be America’s first affordable car. The manufacture of the Model T relied on assembly line production, a revolutionary method developed by Ford himself.

Explore the life of this 20th century innovator with Henry Ford from American Experience.

Photo: Mr. & Mrs. Henry Ford in his first car, the Ford Quadricycle. (Wikimedia Commons)

Yet another rocket stash found at Gaza school

poorrichardsnews:

image

This has got to be just another coincidence, right? I mean, no one would actually store their weapons of war at a school for children, would they?

From Breitbart:

The United Nations Relief & Works Agency For Palestine Refugees (UNRWA) announced Tuesday that another rocket stockpile has been found at one of its schools in Gaza. This instance marks the third time since the beginning of Operation Protective Edge that a weapons arsenal has been found at an UNRWA school in Gaza.

UNRWA has yet to place blame on any individuals or organizations for placing the weapons stockpile within a children’s school. The UN body refused to do so on the past two previous occasions as well.

The UN body, after both previous findings, has handed the rockets it had found back into the possession of “the local police,” otherwise known as the terrorist group Hamas.

This week, UNRWA supplies and building materials had been found in Hamas’s tunnel infrastructure, which has been used to smuggle weapons and carry out attacks on the State of Israel.

The UN agency has a well-documented history of using their US taxpayer-funded facilities to promote anti-Israel and anti-Semitic propaganda. It has in the past been accused of aiding and abetting radical Islamists in Gaza and elsewhere.

Read the Rest

So the UN agency, UNRWA, which has a long history of anti-Semitism, isn’t really taking sides on the issue. You know, I suppose it’s not the UN’s job to condemn nations who put their own people in grave danger by using them as shields. Oh, wait:

The United Nations is an international organization founded in 1945 after the Second World War by 51 countries committed to maintaining international peace and security…

Or maybe that storing weapons of war at a school in wartime isn’t something that the UN really frowns upon…as longs as it’s done by Islamic terrorists.

I haven’t been posting on this because I don’t know enough about the situation and history of the conflict to make an informed decision, but this post grabbed my attention mostly because of another post I saw vilifying Israel for bombing a Palestinian school. I’m only reblogging this to remind you all that no matter what articles you’re looking at, you’re probably not getting the whole story. Both sides are committing atrocities. This is war, after all. Maybe we should stop being so quick to point the finger and just consider what can be done to end the conflict.

To Tumblr, Love Pixel Union