harvey weinstein is America

[Chad]

[The Real MPD]

[Joe Buck]

BUCKMERICA

[The Bill]

[hipster holocaust]

I literally can't think of another person more stereotypically Chad-nightmarish Jew than Harvey, down to the voice

It's like he was put on earth for the christian right to hate tears of joy

[David Draiman's Chin pipes]

There was something just so awful in the old mans utterance. I felt a terrible empathy for him, living in that tiny space. permeated with the odor of age, useless blinking against the darkness. His word-my word- maybe even your word- added to this, and ringing inside me like some awful dream, over and over again, modulating slightly, slowly pitching my own defenses into something entirely different, until the music of that recurrence drew into relief my own scars drawn long ago, over two decades ago, with more than a clas, a stiletto or even an ancient Samuel O'Reilly @ 1891, and these scars torn, ripped, bleeding and stuttering- for they are first of all his scars- the kind only bars of an EKG can accurately remember, a more precicse if incomplete history, Q waves deflecting downward at what must be considered the commencement of the QRS complex, telling the story of a past infarction, that awful endurance and eventual letting go, the failure which began it all in the first palce, probably right after one buring maze but still years ahead of the Other loss, a horrible violence, before the coming of that great Whale, before the final drift, nod, macking skid, twist and topple- his own buring --years before the long rest, coming along in its own way, its own nightmare, perhaps even in the folds of another unprotected sleep (so I like to imagine), silvering wings fragmenting then scattering like fish scales flung on the jet stream, above the clouds and every epic venture still suggested in those delicate, light-cradled borders--Other Lands--sweeping the world like a whisper, a hand, even if salmon scales still slip through words as easily as palmed prisms of salt will always slip through fingers, shimmering, raining, confused, and no matter how spectacular forever unable to prevent his fall, down through the silver, the salmon, away from the gold and myriad of games held in just that word, suggesting it might have even been Spanish gold, though this makes no differance, still rumbling in rem-, dying and -embered, even? or never, in a different light, and not waking this time, before the hit, but sleeping right through it, the slamming into the ground, at terminal velocity too, the pound, the bounce, what kind of ground, -air emergency code would that mark mean? the opposition of L's? Not understood? Probably just x marks the spot: Unable to Proceed--then in the awful second arc and second descent, after the sound, the realization of what Sleep has just now delivered, that bloody handmaiden, this time her toiling fingers wet with boiling deformation, afterbirth, miscreated changeling and foul, what no one beside him could prevent, but rather might have caused, and mine too, this unread trauma, driving him into consciousness with a scream, not even a word, a scream and even that never heard, so not a scream but the clutch of life held by will alone, no 911, no call at all, just his own misunderstanding of the reality that had broken into the Hall, the silence then of a woman and only son,
describing in an agonizing hour all it takes to let go, broken, bleeding, ragged, twisted, savaged, torn and drying too, so permanently wronged, though for how many years gone untold, unseen, reminiscent of another silver shape, so removed and yet so dear, kept on a cold gold chain, years on, this fistful of twitching injured life, finally recovering until eventually like a seed conceived, born and grown, the story of its injured beat survives long enough to destroy and devour by the simple telling of its fall, all his hope, his home, his only love, the v ery color of his flesh and the dark marrow of his bone.

But I saw a strange glimmer everywhere, confined to the sharp oscillations of yellow and blue, as if my retinal view suddenly included along with the reflective blessing of light, an unearthly collusion with scent and sound, registering all possibilities of harm, every threat, every move, even with all that grinning and meeting and din,
A thousand and one possible claws.

Of course, Lude didn't see it. He was blind. mayve even right. We drove down Sunset an soon veered south into flats. A party somewhere. An important gathering of the juggalos of E heads and coke heads. Lude would never feel how "empty hallways long past midnight" could slice inside of you, though I'm not so sure he wasn't sliced up just the same. Not seeing the rip doesn't mean you automatically get to keep clear of the Hey-I'm Bleeding part. To feel though, you have to car and as we walked out onto the blue-lit patio and discovered a motorcycle sputtering up oil and bubbles from the bottom of the pool while on the diving board two men shoved flakes of ice up a woman's bleeding nostrils, her shirt off, her bra nearly transparent, I knew Lude would never care much about the dead. And maybe he was right. Maybe some things are best left untouched. Of course he didn't know the dead like I do. And so when he absconded with a bottle of jack from the kitchen, I did my best to join him. Obliterate my own cavities and graves.
But come morning, despite my headache and the vomit on my shirt, I knew I'd failed.
Inside me, a long dark hallway already caressed the other music of a single, word and what's worse, despite the amazement of chemicals, continued to grow.

[David Draiman's Chin pipes]

I can't log into the board on my iphone after the IOS update and Final Fight no longer works. Maybe It's a sign I should fuck off forever.

I'm not bumping one of chris's threads. I tried to find that Kelly Stafford interview again. I remember a part where she talks about how Manuel Ferrara was bragging on set about how he was gonna fuck her up real good and she ended up doing something really devious to him. The stupid interviewer couldn't stop flapping his cock holster long enough for her to get to what she did and then they got side tracked so we never get to hear what it was but from her tone it sounded like something really malicious.