Digital Underground - uXu - Underground eXperts United #uxu-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 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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