Copy Link
Add to Bookmark
Report
Underground eXperts United File 609
### ###
### ###
### #### ### ### ### ####
### ### ##### ### ###
### ### ### ### ###
### ### ##### ### ###
########## ### ### ##########
### ###
### ###
Underground eXperts United
Presents...
####### ## ## ####### # # ####### ####### #######
## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## ##
#### ## ## #### # # ####### ## ## #######
## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## ##
## ## ####### ####### # # ####### ####### #######
[ An Apologetic For The Pretty Pictures ] [ By Huewle ]
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________
AN APOLOGETIC FOR THE PRETTY PICTURES
I thank God I live in America...
wait...
no I don't...I live in America,
so I don't have to thank god.
I don't have to believe.
I thank luck I live in America.
wait...
means the same thing.
hmmm...
oh...yes...I live in America.
I'm reasonably happy about it.
I am healthy, wealthy (by my standards)
and have the potential to be wise.
I know I live in America;
I live in what is today the most powerful country in
the world
...we do a lot of bad things.
Countries, much in their ways like people, are often
self-serving. Selfish, if you wish. Not just the
individual is self-serving; it's the group as well, a
group that is constantly defined a step higher -
you may disagree with the heirarchy, but you get the
point, I'm sure.
the 'soul'
the body
the love (and/or ideology)
the family
the close friends
the personality group
the ethnicality
the nation group
the religion
and finally the species - usually through the idea of
peace, as striven for by one of the larger groups.
...we do a lot of bad things. Selfish, I know.
The problem is, as the power grows, the abuses have no
choice but to grow.
To enforce Society's will, we have conformity - one of
the worst abuses handed from above. The societal
tendency to push individuals into servitude. of
course, it can't go all the way. Conformity, en
masse, will choke the group in lack of innovation. So
of course, much as we instinctively conform, many
instinctively anti-conform. Break laws. Vote in the
minority - even though they will lose, by 5% or 45% or
anywhere between. Do art, activism, education, or
anything else. And because I live in a country of
people, the country behaves as a person.
Go back; read everything.
"I thank God I live in America"
"I live in America"
I live. I happen to be in America. I understand that
America seeks to dominate others to be healthy.
I disagree with the methods.
I disagree with the ends, what we do to individuals
within and without, and to other countries.
But I am happy.
There is no reason not to be, and plenty in favor.
And I will not feel guilt for the behavior of the
country. I will try and stop what I view as wrong.
But I will not decline association with it.
I do not accept the burden of your guilt.
------------
to Jack Bowman, who insists on the original sin of
being born in the United States
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"the little I know, the all that I know, I don't know...
no, no, no."
-Huewle
Ride the love groove
they said
in the 60's
ride it they said and
take the hit and
hop and now today tomorrow
yesterday 4-20 at Columbine
and the travesties
that accompany
pop! pop! pop!
Scream the guns of the
Children of the failed
revolutionaries
Clickety-clack clickety-clack
sing the computer keys
of the secretaries
of the men
of the money
And their voices drip with honey
As they feed the children
of America the
same old shit
flavored spiced spinning
from the fan
of the dreadnought swimming
in the American Sewer
under the American
Dirty Boulevard
paved by the American
honey caked and cracked
and peeling and when you
pull on it it's
Laffy Taffy
for the tounges of the young
chew chew and gobble gobble
slurp the voices of
the children of
the Nintendo revolution
"Daddy bought his SUV
Mommy's got all the Beatles CD's
And the revolution
is only a video game
or a special exploited by MTV"
and so pop! pop! pop!
Sing the guns on the
video screens
of the school computers
paid for by Pepsi
and
Clickety-clack Clickety-clack
Steams Thoreau's train barreling
Down the info highway
straightlined across a
5 paragraph essay
strained through the faulty
paper-pulp-mill of public education
Drowning in the syrupy-sweet
taste of the
GODDAMN MTV ENDORSED
PEPSI ONE
Spiked with the happy pills
that go pop! pop! pop!
in the mouths
of the children
Fed to them by their parents
the failed revolutionaries
to keep them happy
and safe and happy
and warm and happy
and close and happy
and harmless and HAPPY
and blank and HAPPY
and sedated and HAPPY
and consuming and happy
till we END
...
my lover's parents are
addicted to happy and she
she is too strong
or too scared to cry
so I shriek my mind
to the dark of the forest
shriek my mind for her
and for the revolution
and it's literature
because nobody thought
nobody thought
that the Brave New World
would be voluntary
VOLUNTARY
Can you fuckin' believe it!
We drug the children
to the clickety-clack clickety-clack
of the pharmaceutical companies
of the parents - drugged slaves
of the pharmaceutical companies
of the parents
of the children
of the ex-revolution
who are glued together
by drugs and honey
from the tounges
that stink of money
and the parents go
Pop! pop! pop!
in their own booming
anti-child crime-wave
more kids are killed by
bitter ex-bohemie boomers
than the
computer-babies' bombs
that they found with
the sound of
clickety-clack clickety-clack
rattling the spaced-bars
of their keyboards as they
can no longer sing through the
Pepsi in their throat
while the warplanes of the U.S.
Boom by outside my window
To make sure the Chinese will
buy Coke and keyboards
and maybe they'll get it
right because
pop! pop! pop!
they invented the first
fireworks and maybe
the frenetic
clickety-clack clickety-clack
of the keyboards they have -
the only key they have to freedom -
and maybe they
will see that we can't speak
or scream and don't know
how to type anything but
"pass me a Pepsi"
and the revolution will
start
somewhere else
someway else
somehow else
with someone else
milked and soured
with real oppression
for a real revolution.
---------------
a side note on this poem; I go to college at Wright
State University, adjacent to Wright Patterson Air
Force Base; the largest in the U.S. this poem was
written after the spyplane went down in China, when
for a several day period there was a slight but
noticable increase in air traffic.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
7 DAYS...THE MACHINE GOD VS THE MAN WITH A GUN
1. A man ran into this workplace, gunned down every
suit in sight, and shouted
"You're free!"
We didn't know what to do.
2. The man with the gun ran in, shot all the suits,
and shouted at us
"Kneel before your Gods, you slaves! Now you shall be freed!"
"Thank you," I whispered as he pointed his gun at me, tears of joy
screaming down my face.
3. The man with the gun ran in, shot all the suits,
and shouted
"Bow down before your Machine-God, fools!"
I said to him
"no, because we are singing so beautifully together."
He smiled, agreed, and then either shot me or let me live.
4. The men with the gun ran in, shot all the suits,
and then turned and shouted
"--------------------------------------------------!!"
Nothing answered except the whirr and chunk of
machine. Despair struck his face, and he fell down
dead. Without all the suits, the machines rusted and
decomposed.
5. "Police are looking for suspects involved in fires
that led to the destruction of a manufacturing plant
in Cleveland. Fortunately, no one was harmed.
Onlookers have described the fire as 'so hot, you
could hear the metal screaming!' Property damage is
assessed at...
6. "An unidentifiable man's body was found grossly mutilated
and hanging from a hook inside a 40' long chemical
washer at a manufacturing plant in Cleveland. The
body was at the plant adjacent to the one gutted by an
arsonist's fire last Wednesday. Police have not yet
ruled out suicide, but further investigation is on
hold until the body is identified. Company officials
report that work will resume on Monday"
7.
Click...
Whirr...
Ugh...
Grunt...
Click...
Whirr...
Ugh...
Grunt...
Click...
Whirr...
Ugh...
Grunt...
Click...
Whirr...
Ugh...
Grunt...
Click...
Whirr...
Ugh...
Grunt...
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"The Shadows of Spaces"
writing....
words....
air passing through fleshy reeds at the throat of a
gurgling stream....
electronically transmitted symbols arranged with
scientific precision....
Thoughts
sometimes they don't really get through.
sometimes the spaces drown out the words.
sometimes one medium
will work
while another strangles,
shifts.
sometimes the words say things they don't mean.
sometimes they mean things they don't say.
when you try to decipher the coding, when you try to
put cracks and spyholes in the walls of the way we
speak
when you study the weaknesses and strengths
evaluate
quantify
sift and search
pan for
something lost in the spaces
strikes out at your mind
maybe it's in there,
maybe it's out here
Tendrils of something dark
that lash outwards, grasping
you battle with this dark,
in your soul, with your mind as a knife, your instinct
a cloak
You wander the empty spaces
and shudder at the shade they cast on the words.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
uXu #609 Underground eXperts United 2002 uXu #609
Call KASTLEROCK -> +1-724-527-3749
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
