If the Management Suit Fits

Are you the management retriever? Ambitious executive goes and gets. He fits the job description. A hectic, driven, compulsive type. I've got just the thing for you. It's of my own making. The trade marks power meditation.

The Text Starts Here

Capitalism Blocks Solar Energy Development


Though it is neither written nor marketed as such, Who Owns the Sun? by researcher/activists Daniel Berman and John O’Connor, is a devastating indictment of capitalism.

As it has developed in the last two centuries, this system is an enormous user of energy, most of it derived from the burning of fossil fuels (coal, oil, natural gas).

An additional—and in some parts of the world increasing—source is nuclear fission. Both of these forms of energy are dangerous and environmentally destructive to life on the planet.

Burning fossil fuels generates almost all of the greenhouse gasses that have already begun to change the planet’s climate and, if continued at anywhere near the present rates, will trigger a chain reaction of lethal disasters, not in some vaguely distant future but in the next century or so—historically a relatively short span of time.

Nuclear fission leaves a legacy of radioactive waste that cannot now, or perhaps ever, be safely disposed of.

Clearly if humanity, not to speak of other forms of life, is to have a future, nothing could be more important than phasing out these sources of energy. So much, I believe, is what can be appropriately called ecological common sense.

That’s the bad news. The good news is that there is an available, renewable, and unlimited source of energy to take the place of fossil fuels and nuclear fission: solar power.

This is truly not only in theory but also, given the present state of our scientific knowledge and technological know-how, in practice. Why, then, are we not already living in the period of transition from a proven deadly to a proven safe form of energy production?

The short answer is capitalism—and this is in two complementary senses. First, in capitalist society power is in the hands of capitalists and their acolytes. They cannot be assumed to be ignorant of the energy situation and the dangers it portends for the future.

Yet they have never used that power to take remedial action. Second, when faced with the energy crises of the 1970s and the widespread popular reaction, they did their best to confuse the real issues and limited themselves to making soothing promises.

They then promptly forgot and obviously never intended to honor them when things calmed down.

By the late 1980s what had seemed to be a snowballing popular movement for an energy new deal was effectively scotched and by now is hardly more than a fading memory.

Capital won that battle hands down. But the issue will not go away. As the catastrophes of environmental degradation unfold, the need for an energy revolution will become increasingly obvious and urgent.

In Who Owns the Sun? Berman and O’Connor have made a straightforward, hard-hitting contribution to the understanding of the issue. And, by implication, of the lessons to be learned from the rich experience of the last few decades.

An energy revolution is both possible and necessary, but it will be achieved only as part of a broader revolution that takes power away from capital and puts it in the hands of the people where it belongs.

We're Being Abused by Financial Capitalism


The income of average Americans — the bottom 90 percent — has increased by only $303 dollars in the last 28 years. The super-rich, on the other hand, have been having a real lulu of a decade.

The richest 1 percent is enjoying the most wild-eyed orgy of prosperity since the time of the robber barons.

We've been ripped-off, fucked and exploited.

Have financial lending institutions not taken your homes, after fiscal policies were put in place to enable predatory lending?

Have American wages not been suppressed, since 1980, until they are now essentially incompatible with actual living expenses?

Have insurance companies not been empowered to deny you health care and medical treatments, because their greed is regarded as being more important than your health?

Have corporations not cut your pensions and benefits to the quick, while enjoying record profits?

Are American children being given a fair and equal public education which can enable them to reach any goal or opportunity in our new globalized society?

12th-grade reading and math scores are at an all-time low in the U.S. This is what happens when you keep cutting public school budgets.

It is not unreasonable to infer from these nauseating statistics that if you make less than $250,000 a year, our leaders are casually planning for your children to grow up desperate and stupid.

This means the ghoulish libido of imperial expansion will have warm bodies for America’s “voluntary” army — the employment of last resort.

Alternately, they may go to a privatized, for-profit prison — the new American gulag of slave labor.

The War on Drugs and the Three Strikes laws enabled a for-profit prison industrial complex to flourish, and now the U.S. incarcerates more people per capita than any other nation in the world, including China. The working class is the new wretched refuse of our own teeming shore.

This is institutionalized rape of 90 percent of Americans at the hands of a klepto-capitalist, plutocratic minority acting in lockstep with itself. Our Congress and our corporations are now Imelda Marcos, and the boots are walking all over you.

It’s still not a race war, a holy war, or a culture war. It is, it always has been, a class war.

US Intends Indefinite Occupation of Iraq & Afghanistan


In recent weeks, the Obama administration has banished the word “withdrawal” from its statements on Afghanistan. July 2011 has become simply the beginning of a “transition.”

The end of 2014 is now being invoked by the US and its allies as the key date in the war.

By that time, the Army and National Police of the puppet Afghan regime of President Hamid Karzai will purportedly be sufficiently large and trained to undertake the main combat operations against the Taliban and other anti-occupation insurgent organisations.

US special envoy Richard Holbrooke told reporters this week in Pakistan: “From Lisbon on, we will be on a transition strategy with a target date of the end of 2014 for Afghanistan to take over responsibility for leading the security.”

American forces would still remain after that date, however. “We have a transition strategy. We do not have an exit strategy,” Holbrooke stressed.

The New York Times, having been briefed by administration officials, on November 14 summed up Obama’s perspective:

“By the end of 2014, American and NATO combat forces could be withdrawn if conditions warrant, although tens of thousands very likely will remain for training, mentoring and other assistance, just as 50,000 American troops are still in Iraq.”

In other words, Washington plans an indefinite presence of US occupation forces in Afghanistan.

Even if “conditions warrant” that foreign troops are not required for direct combat by 2014—a prospect dismissed by virtually all analysts—the Pentagon will assert that an enduring presence is required to provide “training, mentoring and assistance.”

This is particularly the case as Afghanistan has no air force. The US military intends to operate indefinitely from the massive air base it has constructed at Bagram, in the very heart of Central Asia.

The repudiation of withdrawal timetables underscores that Obama’s rhetoric was always a cynical exercise in deception.

The truth is that both parties of American imperialism, Democratic and Republican, are equally committed to imposing a permanent US military footprint in two of the key energy-producing regions of the world, Central Asia and the Middle East.

The fundamental motive of the wars, carried out under the fraudulent banner of a “war on terrorism,” has been to gain for American corporations a greater share in the exploitation of lucrative resources.

More significantly, to position the US military to disrupt or even shut down energy supplies to strategic rivals such as China.

Korean 'Crisis' Made in America


When a “crisis” regarding Korea suddenly appears in the U.S. corporate media, their take is always that the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (socialist north Korea) has done something totally irrational to cause it.

They totally disregard the facts of what happened and, of equal importance, what led up to it.

Yes, the DPRK shelled the island of Yeonpyeong on Nov. 23. According to south Korean officials, two of their soldiers were killed. But the shelling occurred at 2:34 p.m. Korean time. What had happened earlier?

Some 70,000 south Korean military personnel had been mobilized for war “exercises” right off the sea borderline between the north and the south — which is disputed territory.

The south Koreans admit to having fired shells into waters that the DPRK considers its territory at 1:00 p.m. — more than an hour before the north’s response.

If south Korea, and its huge sponsor, the U.S., had wanted to avoid confrontation with the DPRK, would they have fired shells into a disputed area? Especially since the DPRK had already declared that the military maneuvers were “simulating an invasion of the north”?

The provocation comes from the U.S. and the right-wing south Korean regime, not the DPRK. This 70,000-troop military “exercise” by the south Korean regime is scheduled to continue until Nov. 30.

Although the U.S. officially denies being part of it, CNN.com on Nov. 23 reported that “Some U.S. forces had been helping the South Koreans in a military training exercise, but were not in the shelled area.” Right. They were part of the provocation but stayed out of range.

There is nothing “irrational” in either the response of the DPRK or the worries of the Chinese military.

U.S. imperialism waged a horrendous war against the Korean Revolution from 1950 to 1953, one that resulted in millions of deaths.

It has occupied south Korea ever since, with a force that still numbers almost 30,000. It has refused to even discuss a peace treaty to formally end that war. Should it be surprising, then, that the DPRK knows it has to be ready at any time to repel another invasion?

Is it surprising that the leaders in China are alarmed when U.S. imperialism, while making money off investments and trade there, nevertheless tries to encircle it militarily?

Instead of putting out anti-DPRK propaganda in the guise of psycho-analyzing its leaders, why don’t the media ask why the U.S. leaders do what they do?

Why have they maintained a hostile policy against the DPRK for more than 60 years, ever since its anti-colonial and anti-capitalist revolution?

Why won’t they sign a peace treaty with the DPRK so that the Korean people can work for real disarmament and reunification?

But that would be to acknowledge that the U.S. is ruled by a class of billionaires that has fattened itself on war and exploitation all over the world.

It has a long history of creating excuses for the bloody expansion of its imperial reach. The media has been part of this inglorious history, ever since the Hearst papers invented an excuse for invading Cuba in 1898.

Casino Capitalism: Mega-Banks Rule the World


After a brief period of destabilization, self-justification and the occasional mea culpa, the very people and institutions that plunged the world into crisis have re-emerged unscathed, as the fount of truth and all reasonable policy.

Can we trust the banks this time? Will they start paying their fair share? Don’t count on it.

The banks that were “too big to fail” before the crisis, have become even more so. Many hold dangerous amounts of sovereign debt. Serious regulation and restructuring are not on the cards.

The financial sector still poses grave systemic risks but governments have accepted virtually all its demands. In 2008-2009, the panic-stricken G-8 and G-20 emitted a few positive reformist noises but have now retreated into self-satisfaction and business as usual.

We have the perfect recipe for another major casino crash. National and international officials will have to intervene again in the wake of future financial follies.

What could be done if governments showed some backbone; if citizens forced them to act? The world is awash in money but policy-makers are not going after it where it is.

Take the recent annual World Wealth Report from the brokerage house Merrill-Lynch which announced a satisfying rebound in the total liquid assets of some ten million “High Net Worth Individuals” worldwide.

These select few enjoy collective wealth of $39 trillion, about three times the GDP of the United States or the European Union. They are also mobile enough, and rich enough, to protect themselves against taxation.

Closing down tax havens would provide at least $250 billion in extra tax revenues to various States.

A small tax on all financial transactions at a rate of one per thousand could provide up to $600 billion a year—quite enough to repair our social benefits systems in the North, pull the South out of endemic poverty and convert to an entirely green economy.

Banks that wouldn’t be here but for citizens’ contributions should be at least partially socialized and obliged to lend to small and medium enterprises, especially those with a viable social or ecological project, now starved for credit.

Such proposals are practical, not utopian, and the techniques to implement them are well-known. The prospect of a greener, fairer, richer world lies before us and the quickest road to get there will be the one that citizens take together, realizing that the interests of any number of seemingly disparate groups.

Small farmers, workers and trade unionists, small/medium businesses, women, ecologists, pensioners, students, NGOs are in the same situation. Once they realize this and act upon that understanding, policies that punish the innocent while rewarding the guilty will no longer be an option.


The Imperative Rules

I desire the mystical, ineffable, subtler, deeper truth. Am I supposed to deny this? Does the pragmatist insist? Sit still, walk slowly, pay attention. The imperative rules. It's not all right. As a means of coping, buddha becomes a mechanic.

The Text Starts Here

Wolf-Pack Capitalism [The Ideology of Oppression]


In one very real sense, it's redundant to describe the present Conservative assault on Britain's working class as "ideological."

Because all political parties' solutions to problems are by definition ideological, being based on that party's world-view, on the preconceptions and ideas that are at the root of its approach to government.

And, Conservative or Socialist, ideology is at the heart of those approaches. It's just a very different ideology.

But when people refer to the Conservative's position as ideological they mean much more than that it's a coherent set of ideas based on a specific analysis of society.

So let's cut through the confusion and call a spade a spade. The right-wing assault is not merely ideological.

It's an ideology that is utterly selfish, is furiously anti-working class and relies for its moral justification on the morality of the wolf pack, where the alpha male dominates absolutely and the lesser animals cluster around hoping for a bit of "trickle down" benefit.

But there's not just one wolf pack, of course and therefore we are treated to the sight of capitalist alpha males ( and they generally are males) routinely savaging each other for the champion's portion of the kill.

They call it competition and it's as distasteful a sight as one could wish to see. Whatever else capitalism is, even it's most ardent supporters couldn't call it pretty. It's combative, it's vicious and it automatically targets the weak and the vulnerable.

And the Conservative/Liberal coalition attack on the social welfare system is a beautiful example of wolf-pack capitalism at its reddest in tooth and claw. Because it unerringly targets the poor and the disadvantaged at every available chance.

This government is remaking the underclass of poor, disenfranchised, alienated and abused people that the trade union and progressive movement has been fighting to eliminate for over a couple of centuries.

Now whether it is doing it consciously is debatable. Probably not, because, in the main, the Conservative ruling class have swallowed their own lies about socially conscious capitalism - an oxymoron if ever there was one.

But, conscious or not, it's real, it's happening and it has to be fought, because this Con-Dem wolf pack will otherwise drive us back into a condition that our forefathers (and mothers) spent their lives lifting us out of.

A 'Flat Tax': How the Rich Will Increase Their Wealth


The danger the United States faces today is that the government debt crisis scheduled to hit Congress next spring will provide an opportunity for the wealthy to give a coup de grace on what is left of progressive taxation in this country.

A flat tax on wage income and consumer sales would “free” the rentiers from taxes on their property.

The 2000 Republican presidential primaries saw Steve Forbes run on a plank that would be the capstone of this tax shift off wealth: a “flat tax,” one that would do away with taxing the wealthy more than blue-collar labor.

Forbes was laughed out of the presidential primaries for proposing this flat tax. It was promoted as being “tax simplification.” The problem was that it is so “simple” that it falls only on employees and their employers as a wage tax.

The details are much more regressive than seem at first glance. The flat tax actually would tax wage earners much more steeply than the wealthy, whose income it would largely exempt!

The flat tax is supposed to fall on employment, not returns to wealth. Employees and their employers would pay the tax, as they pay today’s 12.4 per cent FICA paycheck withholding, but the flat tax would not be levied on financial and property income.

The flat tax is supposed to be accompanied by a European-style regressive value-added tax (VAT). By taxing “value,” it essentially falls on labor – as in “the labor theory of value.”

The tax does not fall on “empty” pricing in excess of value – what the classical economists termed “economic rent,” that element of price (and income) that has no counterpart in actual cost of production (ultimately reducible to labor).

Rather, it's a pure free lunch: land rent, monopoly rent, interest and other financial fees, and insurance premiums. This economic rent is the major return to wealth. It is grounded in the finance, insurance and real estate (FIRE) sector.

The effect of untaxing the FIRE sector is twofold. First, it increases the power of wealth, privilege, monopoly rights and property over living labor – including the power of hereditary wealth over the living.

Second, it helps “post-industrialize” the economy, creating a “service” economy. A service economy is mainly a FIRE-sector economy.

The result would cap the tax shift off finance and wealth onto wage earners. Supported by Blue Dog Democrats, Obama would shed crocodile tears and sign off on the most right-wing, oligarchic, anti-labor, anti-black and anti-minority, anti-industrial tax that anyone has yet been able to think up.

The notorious Flat Tax would fall only on wage income (paid by employees and employers alike) and on consumer goods (the value-added tax, VAT), while exempting returns that accrue to the wealthy in the form of interest and dividend income, rent and capital gains.

Governments Kowtow to International Banks


The bailout of Ireland by the European Union and the International Monetary Fund makes clear that society confronts a disaster if the international banks are allowed to continue their plundering of national treasuries and dismantling of social welfare systems built up over decades.

The financial rescue package has exposed the role of every European institution and national government as the servant of a global financial aristocracy. Not a single government, nor a single parliamentary party is either willing or able to check the ever-expanding power of international finance capital.

Having secured hundreds of billions from national governments to cover their bad gambling debts, the financial plutocrats are now dictating the terms of the most punitive austerity programs to be imposed in the history of post-war Europe.

One European Commission source described the austerity measures being drawn up for Ireland as the “Oliver Cromwell package,” a reference to the English lord protector whose army ravaged Ireland in a brutal campaign of re-conquest in 1649.

The financial elite take no hostages and are not prepared to accept even the most meager measures aimed at reining in their profits.

Top bankers reacted with fury when the German government, backed by France, made the timid proposal a few weeks ago that the banks and major creditors shoulder some of the costs of a future bailout.

The chairman of Deutsche Bank denounced the German plan and undertook a European-wide tour of board rooms and political institutions aimed at torpedoing the proposal.

With their latest international offensive, the banks have upped the ante. Not content with retrospective bailouts, they are demanding that governments set aside huge new funds to underwrite a new round of financial speculation.

Obama: The Friendly Face of Corporate Power


There is no hope left for achieving significant reform or restoring our democracy through established mechanisms of power. The electoral process has been hijacked by corporations. The judiciary has been corrupted and bought.

The media shuts out the most important voices in the country and feeds us the banal and the absurd. Universities prostitute themselves for corporate dollars. Labor unions are marginal and ineffectual forces.

The economy is in the hands of corporate swindlers and speculators. And the public, enchanted by electronic hallucinations, remains passive and supine. We have no tools left within the power structure in our fight to halt unchecked corporate pillage.

The liberal class, which Obama represents, was never endowed with much vision or courage, but it did occasionally respond when pressured by popular democratic movements.

But over the last thirty years there has been the complete surrendering of power to corporate interests [aka capitalism]. This means that those of us who seek nonviolent yet profound change have no one within the power elite we can trust for support.

The corporate coup has ossified the structures of power. It has obliterated all checks on corporate malfeasance. It has left us stripped of the tools of mass organization that once nudged the system forward toward justice.

Obama knows where power lies and serves these centers of power. The tragedy—if tragedy is the right word—is that Obama, after selling his soul to corporations, has been discarded.

Corporate power doesn’t need brand Obama anymore. They have found new brands in the tea party, Sarah Palin and Glenn Beck. Obama has been abandoned by those who once bundled contributions for him by the millions of dollars.

Obama and the Democratic Party will, I expect, spend the next two years being even more obsequious to corporate power. Obama clearly loves the pomp and privilege of statecraft that much. But I am not sure it will work.

Reformers on the outside, while they remain militant and faithful to issues of justice, nevertheless depend on the liberal establishment to respond to public pressure.

If these reformers cannot pressure the liberal class and the power elite to evoke real change, they become ineffectual. Our fate is intimately tied to the liberals who have betrayed us.

We speak in the language of policies and issues. We will find it harder and harder, given our impotence, to compete with the impassioned calls for new glory, revenge and moral purity that resonate with a public beset by foreclosures, long-term unemployment, bankruptcies and a medical system that abandons them.

Once any political system ossifies, once all mechanisms for reform close, the lunatic fringe of a society rises out of the moral swamp to take control. The reformers, however well meaning and honest, finally have nothing to offer. They are disabled.

Get Rich! Exploit Others!


To call our Congressional representatives whores is an insult to whores, who engage in relatively honest and straightforward business transactions.

Sure, prostitutes exist in a kind of ridiculously antique legal-ethical twilight zone — but, at the end of the day, we have a pretty functional idea of what they do, and how they do it. Politicians, not so much.

Our political representatives have been heavily strung out on rapacious greed, enabled by a strategy of bald-faced political treachery and outright lies that I like to call the “ruling class speedball.”

We are just beginning to realize the full dimensions of the swindle that has been perpetrated on the American public since the Reagan era.

There have been some truly horrible economic statistics coming out lately, detailing how of all the industrialized, capitalist countries, the U.S., is officially now the most hellaciously screwed-up in terms of income disparity.

And (duh!) — this is no accident.

Bill Moyers recently wrote a devastating piece on the American plutocracy — detailing the specific ways in which the richest 1 percent of the population has been buying politicians to manufacture the policies that exclusively benefit the richest 1 percent.

The ruling class regards you as their greatest natural resource, and theirs to be exploited. America’s wealth was built on exploitation.

First we exploited the Native Americans, by killing them and taking their land. Then we exploited the forced labor of African slaves.

Then, economic policies have enabled predatory lenders to exploit multiple generations of immigrants and the otherwise poor.

We're little more than slaves on the capitalist plantation. Our 'owners' [the richest 1 percent] are enjoying the most wild-eyed orgy of prosperity since the time of the robber barons?

This isn't a race war, a holy war, or a culture war. It is, it always has been, a class war.


Being by Yourself: Twenty-Five

Does the Thread Hang?

You're on the prophet's pitch. It's my game and I'll do what I like with it. By no means automatic. My act's dependent on.

How long does it take to complete a work? You must be imagining what I'm like. Does the thread hang? If you pull together I exist. One doesn't need to know that.

You Know It Makes Belief

The individual ultimates. The self aggrandises. The market forces. I should dissolve in the collective.

You know it makes belief. Otherwise, others grow fat on our behalf. I feel like the peasant in a potato famine. It's showing somewhere near you.

Capitalisn Commodifies Everything

The bourgeois charge in a light opera. Art works under management. The value becomes surplus.

You've got talent, boy, but it's haphazard. If we arrange and record you'll be thug of the month in rappers' delight. What price commodification?

Caught in a Cult of One

Am I getting through to you? If we read the need to be noticed. You're bound to be taken advantage of.

We're caught in a cult of one. You can't follow me when you insist on taking the lead. We argue over everything at camp irony. From navel gazing to commanding height.

I Masquerade

I know I'm one up on you. I masquerade more. I can't possibly be feeling myself. That doesn't mean I should establish what I'm saying.

Given his lead proves nothing. It was a flight of fancy. Not the meaning of life. You're grounded with aeronautical detail. I wouldn't be me if I didn't maximise.

I Get by All Means

You can see by my caprice. I'm a character out of stock. I want you to read as much as you like me. There should should be some camp activity to keep us whole.

Can you dig it? Another day deeper and further in doubt. There's absolutely no reason why. This provides the mound to stand on. I get by all means.


Being by Yourself: Twenty-Six

How Many Rituals Make a Ceremony?

We should practise what I've preached. Not for nothing was he locked in the head.. I've got my clipboard in front of me. Today's physical manifestation.

How many rituals make a ceremony? Sure, I ablute like the rest of you. I eat and defecate too. After sitting on the side and contemplating. I cast into spells of sleep. Then there's exercise. Which is why I'm here.

Imagine the Feral Life

I've been commissioned to find a way to make you stay. Take the survival text to fit you up. I say no more than this is it.

There's a major assumption. We've got freedom within these walls. How many suggestions make a box bearable? You can do what you like. Even imagine escape.

You're Destined to Be Doomed

I had a dream of vaulting over. We're banged up to give us hope. We live in anticipation of. When will management release me? Don't I get time off for compromising myself? Haven't I been wooden-headed enough?

The Stretches of Imagination

I think the infusion's finished. I've let it stand as a symbol. We haven't settled informally yet. What do I call you? My partner, lover or inmate? There's no doubt I find you desirable.

Don't be surprised by the taste of change. It happens inside. The only constant thing. I want to evoke in you a sense of. We're in this for keeps. As we reflect on the stretches of imagination.

I'm Mentally Unable

Look up and set aside. I'm doing time devoted to myself. And you think it's a punishment.

I deliberately dissed authority in the conviction that. I expect the state to provide for me. Take care of the mentally unabled. Here I'm born again to be a thug. I serve my term of endearment.


Being by Yourself: Twenty-Seven

I'm Here for No Reason

I've been brought here for no reason. Those who manage must be convinced. For the purposes of this hearing. Do you, the accused, have any idea of what you're doing?

Let's make it to the end of this sentence. Something's bound to occur by then. The present progresses to an immediate future.

Bump & Grind

I've got no intention of. Must I apply to the planning department for internal alterations? As a conscious subject I protest my treatment.

Where's the freedom in limited choice? You want to take me off the high slope. I'm expected to bump and grind in the multiplex culture. A saturated diet of sweetness and light.

A Delicate Fabrication

We put up with conditioning. It's in the air we breathe. We're well-run programmes in a washing machine. Has the cycle finished yet?

Have pity on him, members of the inquisition. As you've seen, he's a delicate fabrication. He needs a gentle spin. Not the scrubbing you delight in.

Too Much Condensation

Can a human be aware? I reckon it's soft in the head. How do I know this? As a member of the same species. Wasn't I programmed to perform acts of? Fuck it's only a metaphor.

I really must do something about the condensation. It's causing structural damage. I've got to alter the state I'm in.

Free to Fancy

There's this idea of a germ. It increases our antagonism towards authority, If you don't mind. I'd rather fall apart than join up. The consolation prize belongs to.

He pulled the communication cord on a train of thought. Do you want to get off with me? We're be free to fancy. That's an order. Follow it.

You've Been Inculcated

You know management disapproves of. Ask yourself before you condemn him. Did he intend to loiter?

What we have here is a failure to inculcate. He doesn't respond to the bell. The boy's been badly trained. Are you surprised he's out of the ring? I'm sure you'd be if you were.


Being by Yourself: Twenty-Eight

The Fit Doesn't Suit Me

Is this the object of consciousness? He addressed the assembly. We're gathered here to hunt the fallacy in reason.

How many belches make a gut response? Have you noticed how well one works to justify failure? You can see by the fit doesn't suit me.

Is This the Way Ahead?

I don't depend on mains supply. I've a fondness for elision. I'm content to be excluded. I'll always be true to form.

Is the way ahead? Who's been there and done that? Will you catch me when I die? He was signed to a major label. Marked by his posthumous thought. I hereby name this syndrome.

I'm the Fiction in Front of You

Do you know how you feel just before a full stop? The tension of nothing to come. Have you any idea what it's like to be in a permanent state of irony?

I can't come to before my time. I'm the fiction in front of you. The pieces don't fall into place. I'm the first past postmodernism. I'll see you after the rat-race for further deconstruction.

You Draw Towards

I call myself a prophet because it suits me. I've been conceived. Who can tell by? What's his authentic intelligence? Where it's at. Does he measure up to?

May I suggest going back to my displacement? It's been worth for a while. I feel like a notorious shark in a sea-life centre. I bring out the voyeur in you want to turn away but draw towards.

Another Postscripture

As a leader in this field of study I use auto-destruction theory as the means by which. May I assume modesty? The texts I call postscriptures. As a matter of fiction. I'm working on one right now. I've been examining examples of exhortation.

I try to keep the subject in mind. Hoe does one resist the urge to wander? There should be a sign showing the gradient. Different slopes for simple folks. As one would say in his prime. I'm up here with the potential prophet. What do you expect of him? Call a halt to the grind.


Being by Yourself: Twenty-Nine

Do You Want to Be Like Me?

Given the inherent artificiality of this. I'd appeal to my acolytes. I should hope so. Do you want to be like me? Get down, make up and perform. You must get into condition.

Be erect in posture. Your resolution's long over sensitive. A thin line between alertness and anxiety. We prohibit the usual depressants. So much for putting an acceptable face on.

We Play with Ourselves

The neurotic exposes himself to sober experience. It's a hard-knock life. The unbelievability of it all. No matter which way you turn in the knowledge that.

You mastered the illusion. Be proud of the fact. A trick's no more than smoke and light. Are praising progress? Don't make me sneer. Who needs the toys of technology? We play with ourselves.

It's a Jungle in There

I'm free to hold my attention in the laboratory. I think I'll concentrate on my eyes today. How can I make them water without being sentimental? I'll take up a slightly altered state.

Go back on my word. Resolve to break an ideal. Change the maze I run through. No wonder he doesn't go under. It's a jungle in there's so much to explore.

Put Down in Denial

I want you to do something for me. Change your lie. I know you must be in the habit of. Lay down your means of production and join me in the observatory.

You'll never be short of a subject to experiment on. Use yourself to test the unreliability of. Somebody's bound to start the human incarceration front. All that indulgence. They should be put down in denial.

By Any Stretch of the Imagination

Make no mistake about it. I haven't come to reason with you. By any stretch of the imagination. I want to tickle your fancy. Isn't that sufficient reason?

Get wise! Be unconventional! You can tell I've got this urge to. On whose authority? I'm no more than a reminder. I may have the potential to. That doesn't mean I will. Only if you recognise.


Being by Yourself: Thirty

We Don't Need a Novel; Give Us a Title

The end justifies changing gears. I'm up to here with this. Believe me, the lump in my throat's benign.

In a constant state of preparedness. For what? Is coming next more appealing than the train now standing? We don't need a novel. Give us a title. I predict that after this trailer.

I've Lost My Appeal

Tell me the truth. Are you a soothsayer? If I knew I wouldn't be apprehensive. It's the fear of not showing up for my next celebrity appearance.

I can't come because I've lost my appeal. I'm not of exhortation. I haven't got a brilliant idea left in me.

What If Nothing Happens?

We should consult the paradoxist. I'm not frightened of forgetting my lines. What's there to bear in mind? I've got the advantage of libbing. As if being fully prepared.

I get ready by musing on empty. I've no idea. I'm anxious about what's going to happen. What if nothing does? The prophet in a panic without any gnomes to his name.

Purveyor of Fine Saws

Bring back that sinking feeling. But, the consultant pointed out. Without that excitatory effect you wouldn't be bothered.

I can't cope with this dread of. I know it's necessary if I want to maintain my position as a purveyor of fine saws to the gentility. But I'm wearing out. Too much dilution. I can't contract any more.

Time to Hang up My Pretensions

All this noradrenaline's playing havoc with my sympathetic nervous system. You've sought this condition. You've been spoilt by fights. Perhaps it's time to retire from the ring. Hang up your pretensions. Admit the addiction. You were a great intensifier.

The Ease with which I Doubt

I've run out of reasons to be. I need something to subdue me. If I had to find a cause. The ease with which I doubt.

It's no good asking you won't prescribe me. I'm drowning in the flux. You suggest taking deep breaths. I hope you feel guilty when they find me washed up.



Being by Yourself: Nineteen

He Fell in without a Splash

Are we still in play I've had this dreadful feeling. I'm out of control. Like the master of ceremonies who's got nothing to say. It's that awful. I don't know if I'm going to get by.

I fall into the pool without a splash. How will anyone know? I suppose it leaves me to practise my stroke. What's the time of a length?

The Difficulty of Being Unoccupied

I mean, if I didn't keep myself bush I'd go melancholy. One's always on watch. I've got a mindset for example. Would you like to play?

We take in random order. By coming out to declare I make myself vulnerable. Have you noticed the difficulty of letting it go idly by? To be unoccupied.

Shall I continue? I'm stepping out of character here. The uses of discipline. I sometimes think in order to.

It's all very well being supple. That's not what I meant. Where's the stamina? I'm in training. I take my thought out for an airing. Does it need to get wise?

Idlers of the World Unite!

He's on the lookout for a generalisation. He was caught in a cultural phenomenon. I can't make head of this tale. Are we programmed? Who's the maker? Does he get up like the rest of us?

I thought he was about to submit us to another of his ideologies. Idlers of the world unite! You have only your minds to admire. That's why I work out. I've got plenty of time to marvel.

It's Simpler Not to Say Very Much

I've always found it difficult to say what I do. I'm not convinced enough. Would that I were a recreationist. I'm unpersuaded. I can Imagine most means of assertion. That's the benefit of doubt. It's simpler to say not very much.

How many possible paths in the psyche? We choose a few to get through. As if we've found. A routemaster's got no knowledge of. Am I repeating myself?


Being by Yourself: Twenty

One Short of a Whole

I hereby give notice. He appears to be one short of a whole. I'm well designed to call it ambiguity. The label sticks under statement.

You're informed yet unknown. The more you gather under stand will be assimilated. Like a piece short of the puzzle. I'm at my most vulnerable in this state of animation.

The Cock's Still Crowing

I know what you're thinking. The crow's trying his best. Is that the emergency line for those in want of attention?

I'm dying to give an opinion. It's easy enough to put down others. Have you challenged the need to? I won't notice unless you turn on yourself.

The Desire to Display

Follow instructions in minimal fashion. A policy of least possible action. I bet I send this up before you get it. You can't be serious when the desire to display.

Is a ride ever over? Can we come down to being ourselves? When one's alone. He conceives of being an artist. I'm the result of his machinations. The man's an assembly-line freak. He thinks he's the source of my imagination.

God's a Figure of Speech

Come on, boy! Keep taking the tablets. I'm meant to believe one, on his parking lot, created me. Am I in his image? Is he a superior being?

Do you know what god stands for? Given one's doubts, I shouldn't be surprised to find he's full of it. I can be sure because he isn't. I mean, he's a great figure of speech, and all that. The run for cover in cases of uncertainty.

Life on the Rim

Given the rate of erosion there'll be nothing standing soon. Look, everybody! I'm standing on my head. It's the only support. Not for one's sake. There's a begging bowl in front of me. Please applaud generously.

What the fuck. I'm even prepared to do a commercial for themes'r'us. That great universal soap. What's my part in it? Did he borrow or steal the question? I need a script for my medicine. I'm suffering withdrawal without ejaculation. Life on the rim. I can't find a whole.


Being by Yourself: Twenty-One

The Subject of Objectivity

It depends on the motivation of the observer making the measurement. Does the text exist when it isn't being read? For all we might be dead.

Everything's possible because you've got nothing to compare it with. If I affect you exist. I'm on your mantlepiece as a reminder Lean on me for the perfect platitude.

No Wonder Anxiety States

I know what you're like. Always afraid of drying up. What if I run out of things to say? You've made your point before the talk. You've come over-prepared. There's nothing left for the presentation.

Please excuse me. I'm repeating myself. Give us the text in advance. Then we play any question on air. I'm for the inspirational moment. No wonder anxiety states. You're never ready enough.

It's Not How long He Makes It

As head of culture in this study. Take a piece of my mould. It's not how long the bibliography. Does a condemned man catch sight of himself before the hanging? Are his affairs in order?

You give me reason for a lack of insight. Your mind's made up. How's that for a start? You could say it's chuffed. To claim ambiguity's an understatement.

I Certainly Doubt

What do you call someone who makes things up? God, in his wisdom. If he was a number one would be doubt. Don't you just love the certainty of it must be clear by now I deal in.

The nature of performance. I'm made up beforehand to give the impression. It lets me be spontaneous. A characteristic of the specious. One never appears to others as real.

The Subject in Question

There's no need to be prepared for delivery. Let it happen at will. That's a stage direction. Follow my lead. Be affected. As a matter of course you should.

It falsely dawned on him. You don't believe I'm talking about. There's no character without a reference. I suggest you read the paper on my subject in a limited edition.


Being by Yourself: Twenty-Two

If the Remains to Be Seen

Your participation may fill the whole we're always hoping for. Happiness is engorgement. He flirted wherever it rose. In the expectation that.

You've as much chance as dying to see what's going to happen. A failure to fulfill oneself doesn't stop the wish to. We wait in vain for our remains to be discovered.

What Does This Displace?

Have you seen my desire? I seem to have displaced it. Far from being a destructive impulse. I can't help feeling I'm being channelled.

Is ambition a displacement or sublimation of? I mean, the whole purpose of our exercise bogs us down. From this elevation we can see that sex.

The Break Between Programs

I'd hate to be considered more appropriate. I thrive in the break between programmes. I do my best to serve as a symbol of.

Take my will being read. I leave the rest to you get an axiom each. There are many certainties but only one doubt. Where do you get them from? The interior, my boy.

My Part in the Primitive

I could tell you how I used to darken up for my part in the primitive. I had more rhythm then. Why, I remember when. wait just a moment postmodernist. It's just a phrase I'm going through.

I'm bound to be part of the syllabus by the time you get this. For now let me gloat in my difference. At least, admire the delusion.

Nothing to Say of Significance

It's easy for you to be in touch with the common I'm off the beat on another track. I take a shot and move on. You're welcome to develop.

I can't see the point for changing positions. I suppose premature ejaculation's Better than none at all. The analysand feared he had nothing to say of significance.

A Rush to Mind the Gap

By watching this space fills it. Blankness makes me anxious. I must be busy. I'm in a rush to mind the gap.

Why don't I wait for it'll happen? Less haste, more consideration. I don't know how long it's going to take. I'm sure you've formed by now the content.


Being by Yourself: Twenty-Three

Too Comfortable to Change

Is my uncertainty authentic? It must be clear I deal in. Like, me take a leap out of the ordinary.

I'm wasting my time. You can say that again. At the drop of a voice. Like trying to sell salvation to the unconvertible. You're too comfortable to change.

A Worm in the Whole

I must remember to be here. I'm brought down to save your species. This isn't the confirmation you expected. You're a worm in the whole. Where one represents many

I'm trying to get a rise out of you. What does the patter remind us of? Look, the point is, I doubt. You're content with being. Why should you change to me? On whose authority?

His Author's Voice

Is there an opening for an oracle? How do we know you're one? I've been authorized to say this. I'm in fact a fiction. His author's voice.

I'm on the make-believe. You really think you are. Don't assume I've abandoned hope. I'm trying to get across to you.

Would We Survive If It Weren't For?

We need a transitional phenomenon to get us from psychic to external reality. A means of transportation. Would it work if you pretended too? No doubt. I want to disturb you.

Is there a cause worth evacuating for? I see where the fault lies. You're not concentrated enough. Osmotically speaking, we're made for each other. Would we survive it it weren't for?

I Don't Believe Myself

To rouse you takes time. I realize that. I've got to hold you here long enough. We could be on the edge of. You don't want to leave when it's becoming. We'll coast until the capsized moment.

Meanwhile, the rate of erosion. Don't expect me to be precise. I know you don't get it. That's the point. I'm not an easy digest. I've got nothing more to say on purpose. I know it's hard to swallow. I don't believe myself.


Being by Yourself: Twenty-Four

Could I Be the Cause of Your Disintegration?

I want to coax you into being, like me. The ideal layabout. Is that a tautology? Need your cynicism cured? You've come to sneer. Don't even bother. I've already done it.

I'm torn apart. Rather, to be more attached, one is. Not that I'm in place of. I want to be the cause of your disintegration. Allow me a little indulgence. Can I admire its effect? When you're through I'll help you act up.

The Abstruse & Apparent

Here's the opening you've been waiting for. I'm so full of doubt I can't possibly be myself. How can I put the private on parade in this deconstructed state?

Don't even try to. Develop a mechanism by means of which. It's a game of two domains. The abstruse and apparent. You live on your own in one. `You've devoted a lot of imagination. You put on a good face in the other.

Only the Dumb Are Founded

Unaware souls can't touch us. Apparently, they spend all the time believing themselves. I mean. it's unproductive to look interior. One may become the romantic depressive. When all else fails, there's nothing to idealise.

I want to give you cause for reflection. Stare if you're going to. I can't be apparent without regular injections of irony. You see the act and comment on. Others get oscars for playing themselves. Only the dumb are founded. Probably a previous life.

Building Bridges to Cross Purposes

I send my offspring on these occasions. I should say not I by the way. One gets the award for best producer. I'm afraid he couldn't be here tonight. He's suffering from a bad attack of doubt.

However, as the son of one, it gives me great pleasure. So, you see, I'm here on behalf of. Does that satisfy your curiosity? It's not the divided self. More like building bridges to cross purposes. I give you one's for it.



Try Being By Yourself: Part Thirteen

Can You Get Me from Here to There?

Would you see the consultant who offered no hope? I'm afraid you're going to die. Isn't there anything you can give me to get from here to there? What's the consolation prize? Well. you could examine yourself more. So, I stood and stared at my reflection. That's it, then. In this particular case I'm carried away. It happens to be the only one.

I mean, take my life. It doesn't amount to much. Use protection during discourse. I'm carrying doubt. A deficiency of purpose. Test the self for screening. I'm always dismissing it. I suppose I could look forward to. Will my lot improve? I've always indulged myself.

His Ego's Tripping

There's no participation when you're on watch. You know what your trouble is? I can't accept being a bit part. I dream of the lead. Hush up, child, and show some respect. Here comes the prophet. May one be with you! How's it looking, then? Can you give us a lift-up?

That's the trouble with followers. You're there to entertain them. I've got an hour to spare. What's the word, wise one? Can you fill my vacuum? The drive leaves them prone. Lie in any activity. One's word's enough. You make me passive. Do we believe the leader's cry? Don't follow me! We know your ego's tripping.

Caught in the Act of

Don't ask me where I'm taking my life. It's no more than the next thought. I'm caught up in the act of. I take no clients. I can't advise you.

There's always the urge to run another lap. Is the challenge a compelling obsession? Have you been getting on without letting up? He continued in the same vein without expectation.

There Were No Remains

I've imagined the worst case scenario. He left without notice. There was no trace of him. There were no remains. We couldn't track him down.

I bet he left strict instructions. I'm not to be followed. Isn't that asking for it? He's in the final stages of doubt. What's coming next to nothing. There's the satisfaction of knowing it's fatal. What a relief! Imagine the flow when you go.

Part Fourteen

Try Being By Yourself: Part Fourteen

Threatened by a Lack of Meaning

I strive for short-term memory loss. To forget what you're doing. I was too engrossed to notice. When I cam to there was this nagging compulsion to analyse the experience. Nothing can be explained, he insisted.

Can the wilderness be tamed by thought? The absence of an image provokes endless contemplation. So the theory goes. We're threatened by a lack of meaning. I push it to the limit. It's a liminal life I lead. Because there's always the risk. That's what I crave.

Stuck on a Ride in the Theme Park

They line up on crutches at my weekly miracle sessions. I'm the kicker with no cure. It becomes a loss of identity parade. They're wailing on purpose. In the move towards silence, subtlety and sparseness. I'm barely here. How do you respond to the threat of nothing happening? Could you continue knitting without a pattern?

It's all in your mind without cohesion. Just the thought of. Can you be still, please? I'm trying to show the sublime. You know what it's like. Stuck on a ride in the theme park. You lose the sense of abandonment. One starts to compose himself.

We Need Care & Attention

You wonder why we're here? Well, I've got this theory. I bet you're dying to know what it's not that I wouldn't want to bore you with the details. Let's move through blank space. What do you make of it? There's so little action the imagination becomes over-active.

I recommend a daily does of isolation. There's nothing to distract you from regarding yourself. Do I detect a hint of panic? Can I take my mobile with me? I need to know I can be reached. If I'm not, I don't exist. There you go. The addict must make contact with. We're constantly after care and attention. I beg you groom me. The louse makes an excuse.

Part Fifteen

Try Being By Yourself: Part Fifteen

The Crutches to Survive

Who needs the common touch? I view the scramble for recognition with disdain. I've abandoned the herd instinct. When was the last time a stock response? There's no point huddling together. It won't alert us.

So, how do I manage? By rejecting mundaneness. This makes me think. I lose myself intensive disarray. There's no need to concern yourself. I can do worse without you. My strength comes from undermining yours. I don't need the usual crutches to survive.

My Misanthropy's Bigger Than Yours

Just Look at his complexion. He's clearly pushed to extremes. Admire me! I've almost destroyed myself. The arrogance of anguish. I dare you to look over the edge. My misanthropy's bigger than yours. Is there surface in emptiness? If it makes you feel superior. I'm a traveller in nihilism. You're only a tourist.

I've got this swollen awareness. It makes me further. Get the reproductive idea? Somebody's got to be ahead. What would you do in my position? Put me down? I don't hate but play a lot. I blame the competitive drive. The lead male takes risks. Is the theory of evolution in the nature of things?

How Can I Possibly Stand for Anything?

I decided to paint the non-conformist getting his rocks off. I called it self-deceit. To be perfectly honest, I'm up to here in public relations. Don't believe a word I said. It's my job to persuade you of my sensational value. Take my shaft of insight with new improved vision.

If wisdom's wit I'm at the end. How can I possibly stand for anything? I'd only start trying to make sense. Before I know It. How do we get over ourselves?

This week's special offer. One way to salvation. Are you sure you won't be coming back? Not if I can help it. This species leads to extinction. We've brought it on ourselves. I'm warning you. Unless we can find a new delusion. Who's in for the hunt?

Part Sixteen

Try Being By Yourself: Part Sixteen

We're Tamed to Be Obedient

Do we stay put on the range? You need a licence to kill. Everything's allowed within limits. Take this boundary fence. Aren't you tempted to climb over it? I know the guide book sticks to the tarmac. One knows the formless mess we'll find.

It's terribly disappointing. Life turns out to be a theme park. The karaoke version of born to be wild. We've got the freedom to go wherever we like on this site. Have you got the hard hat for it?

Questions on My Answering Machine

Anyway, what's with the boy's own paper stuff? Wipe your arse and be done with it. Isn't it enough to know the danger of death? There's enough publicity.

The opening's closer It should alert us. Instead, we drown in depressants. I don't know about you but I'm having a molotov cocktail. There'll be no one serving at my function.

I mean, if you're well prepared for it's virtually done. I can't wait to be live and spontaneous. I've got his theory of chaos. I'm determined to give you directions. Are there any questions on my answering machine? I'm sorry, he's not in at the moment. He's just gone out of control.

Artificial Nature

As the prophet mounted his subject. Stop fretting, child. Let it happen. Be thankful you're having this early experience. It's the way to get wise. Always assume there's a risk of. By setting the way you're sure to find meaning. Most settle for that. But you're made of more, aren't you?

It's my version and I'm sticking to it. The psychotic tendency in civilisation. Maintain the consent! Or we'll all fall down. Look around you. Everyone's under the delusion. Don't play false with me! When I die the question remains. Who's he left his loss of faith to? So it shall pass. I really like your nature. It's so artificial. On that I base my judgement.

Part Seventeen

Try Being By Yourself: Part Seventeen

Anxiety State

It makes no sense of purpose. I stay fit for the fight. We anticipate gratification. After life we want to come back as. There's no satisfying him. In my play the thrill of it all.

A word of caution from our sponsor. Too much alertness leads to anxiety. Sometimes I think I was born into this state. It was in my mother's amniotic fluid.

Art Is a Compulsive, Obsessional Disorder

I've tried everything from shoplifting to shambolism. I mean, can't I channel the desire to? I could consummate this relationship. Does it pass as discourse? Dare we call it art? Now, there's a compulsive, obsessional disorder. If I were to find one. A mechanism by means of which.

I may be on to something here. How to be idle as another party chatters. Tell me. How do you cope? By putting down my thought. Here's my latest theory of everything. I like to keep on my toes. Whatever you call it's getting by.

It's Getting to, Not the Point

To come back, as I said. Don't you realise idle thought? I'm forever in the process of. I feel compelled to do it. Is there a justification? How many draws in the lottery? It's the way I play. The panhndler of ideas.

Let me end on the crux. A suitable symbol, don't you think? Would you buy this scent if I called it succinct? I'm on a self-improvement course. In this novel setting. It's getting to, not the point.

A Dying Man's Last Idiom

So, the tutor said. For homework this week I want you to dig your thought. It's the cheapest form of therapy. A few finds in the excavation. Like ecstasy, you'd better be brief. One number, not the whole fucking musical. I declare mine on the mound. How many points make the prophet's head? Have I missed the meaning here?

I thought you were going to give me the figures, not a speech. I don't need the daily excretion. A specimen will do for analysis. It was the dying man's last idiom. May I be the future remains of an earlier civilisation! How did they find him? Rather imperative, actually. There were traces of a personal mood.

Part Eighteen

Try Being By Yourself: Part Eighteen

Does He Give Good Head?

What's worth dying for? The end of narrative. What's really been happening? A storm brewed in the drawing-room while we were ruminating. Didn't I tell you about it?

I'd gladly go if we could drop the narrative experience. What a novel ideology! Of course, we'll continue to make believe. I don't care if he's well-read. Does he give good head?

My Delusion's Greater Than Yours

By the time you get this I'll be long gone. When you join me I'll be dying to know. Were you round long enough to see the novel eclipsed? Did I play a small part in it?

I want all of you to get off the floor, move and shake after me. I bet my delusion's greater than yours. I'm going to shape the things to come. Suppose it doesn't happen?

Religion Is Anticipating Immortality

I've anticipated immortality. That matters. Effectively, I get by. My new heaven. I prefer the idea, not its implementation.

Can life be imagined? First, as a terminal illness. Before we know where we fall into cliché. There won't be any seconds in my canon. If the concept fits. He took on board for the thrill of it. If the art works.

The Edge of Extinction

I appear to be the make-up artist. For modesty's sake, a figment. The irony of it all. We strive for something we'll never experience. The means by which we survive.

You've only got yourself to blame. I told you not to go near the edge of extinction. Nothing's securely sited round here. It's a relief to have the belief.

The Fiction of Theory

The best thing to be bone idle. One's a perfect example. He believes for the sake of it. He's always in the process of making. Have you read his fiction of theory?

I don't know why you're getting so distraught. Even emptiness comes with a frame. So, why don't we stretch out in time. Let's try to get over ourselves.

Part Nineteen


Try Being By Yourself: Part Seven

I'm Virtually Here

What a difference to pray makes. You see, that's what's wrong with the world in my day. You don't devote enough. No need to pretend god's there. So, who's going to listen? If one were it. Personally, I talk to the man behind this. One created me. For much I must appreciate. I'm virtually here. Spend valuable time with oneself. There, the sermon's over. We move on to more depressing things.

Like, we take our self-loathing out on each other. We download our frustrations. You can spot the fault-lines in me readily enough. Yet you're an earthquake waiting to happen. Why the fuck are so unhappy? Is one good in grief? Where's the compensation in being a miserablist? Can I turn on certainty? I'd only want to undermine it.

We Dig a Ditch to Die For

Have I told you lately? Be a bit more negative. You always see the bright side of things. We back up and put down. What's there to be so breezy about all the time? I mean, we're going to cease. Where's the joy in that?

Nothing satisfies long enough. We dig a ditch to die for. Some fucking monument that is. Would it be different as installation art? Is your coping mechanism better than mine. It's the best life can provide. A means by which we deceive ourselves.

It's Only Make-Believe

Does this sound hopeless? What makes me go on? I shouldn't care less as a character in fiction. I can always blame my maker. If one knows whom one means. Can I say life's a formal sentence and get away with it? As I clause towards the end of. That's all I've got to go on. It's only make-believe. One may as well live the illusion. Maybe I mind too much. All this gazing at reflection.

I tell a fib. You fucking idle bastard! You're not fit for the free market forces. There's bread to be made and circuses to be played. I'd rather lie about. I won't do what you say. I don't need the seal of performance. Fuck the crack of your whip. Can't you see? I'm absorbing myself.

Part Eight

Try Being By Yourself: Part Eight

Shit on the Doorstep

We strive to recapture the peak experience. I'm compelled by this obsession. He's got a terrible habit of. This line just cam to me. You may as well start by loathing yourself. A stall in the transfer marker should beneath you. A supreme example doesn't spare the doubt. Why leave home when you can sneer on the doorstep? Still, there's nothing like a good slagging off.

I mean, let's not be self-righteous about this. I don't want to seem superior because I shit on my canvas. For fuck's sake, who craves to be right-minded? The thought of being sensible. It's enough to make blood rush to the head.

Digging a Ditch [To Lie In]

So, what're you saying? We shouldn't criticise others? Not before you call yourself into question. We'd never complete the circle if we doubted to that degree. All you're digging a ditch to admire in.

I'm not really sure anything's wrong. It's enough to make me stop revising myself. I haven't got mush faith in. There's all this working out with no well-being. I see no improvement in fitness. In fact, if anything.

Shut Up & Imagine Yourself

I can't join up. I don't believe you're fighting for. If only I had the comfort of a conscientious objection. Human natural selection develops a thick skin. Certainty gets you the job of commissioning editor. Imagine me with the authority to.

You've come to rest in a possible case. I fling myself all. But there I go again. Displaying greater awareness as I see it. Does that make me better? I think. Therefore, I don't move. If you ask me. I can't stand his self-containment. It's almost over-weaning. Here's a pacifier. Shut up and imagine yourself.

Part Nine

Try Being By Yourself: Part Nine

Mental Cannibalism

Are you or have you ever been driven? I look up to find I'm motivated by. Have you thought of this in that light? What a compelling obsession! As I waited my turn for the scan. I asked the panic attack beside me. Are we victims of relentlessness? I should care less what I think. The poor boy's striven. Rush him in to analysis. He needs a good delving down.

But that's the last thing on my mind. I'm looking for some peace of. I know what"ll make me feel better. I'll put on a new habit. That should engross for a while. If it's silence you're after, I've got a suggestion. You should consume your own creation. Is this mental cannibalism? I can't come out today. I'm breeding in.

A Hum in the Head

Would you bother being if no one acknowledged it? We could play cat, mouse and goldfish here. Should we complain about the condensation? Would we be right, rather than red? Don't expect me. I'm only the character reference. I bear no responsibility. I barely seem to myself let alone.

Can't I find something other than I to be the subject of this sentence? Will I be released for the admission? He was reduced to a hum in the head. I remain your obedient ambition. But, seriously, if I stopped trying to get across.

The Shit-Smearing Artist in Residence

I only wish others had greater editorial control. You look like a suitable case for treatment. It so happens I'm in the ECT trade. If you want my professional advice. Leave the centre of attention. You can't go on indulging yourself like this. I know you need conformation. Try running rings round a circle. You could be admitted to.

I mean, it's the form of expression. Are we still in prayer or on mobile talk? Most can't contain themselves. It's the bad bowel syndrome. Can you come to my opening? The shit-smearing artist in residence. Everyone's moving up front. I think you should fall behind for some extra anal-retentive therapy. That's what art is, he said more in keeping with.

Part Ten

Try Being By Yourself: Part Ten

Are You My Hit in a Thousand?

The thing is, am I repeating myself? You may work in a canning factory. I can't stick to the same ingredients. Are you recycling yesterday? Say after me. I must be different. Even If it's dropping the habit of. Do I recur to you? Have I become a picture in your story? It's the only romance left. I want to be a light in your life.

He wasn't easily recognised. He didn't click with many. You could be my hit in a thousand. Would that we were two parts of a mechanism locking into place. Am I wooing fame. success or fortune? Or, do I just want to get my mind over?

Watch the Fecal Matter

I must try harder to see how I seem to you. Am I that demanding? The fault lies with I take it too seriously. You've wandered in out of the cold. You haven't come to be consumed. Don't worry, child. There's no penetration without engorgement. I'll call fore when we play.

To be sure a bad case of vanity in this space. Walk where you will carefully. Watch the fecal matter. He continued in the same veing without expectation. despite what you said in vain above. At the first signs of obsession. Make no mistake in my grammar.

How Chic Is My Shit?

A copy of my greatest work goes out to whom it may concern. Would you stand by while I shit? And then admire the motion? The boys dysenteric. What a find! Sign him to the agency. How chic is my shit? Who said the cock crows on its dunghill?

Actually, it's more complex than that. He's here to give head to head manipulation. Going through the Freudian stages. It's enough to make you mental. I turn out to be a sublimation of. Do you consider this to be more appropriate? Mine's a selfish cause. I'm after your awe. It may inspire me.

Part Eleven

Try Being By Yourself: Part Eleven

Have You Heard the One About?

Talking about it's not essential. I want to put things to write. Thought progresses through the act of. To tell it isn't like that. You develop a routine. Have you heard the one about? I was up-river, looking for the soul of darkness.IN other works, I'm in the thick of tautology. Am I repeating myself? Stop me if you've heard the one about.

I'll never be a stand-up. It doesn't go with the territory. I appear here to be a prophet. Not your divine-driven sort. More like a seer of imagination. Where the philosopher plods intellectually I leap in. I'm sorry, but I can't help feeling superior about this.

A Figment of Imagination

We're both on the look-out for meaning. What're you having? Mine's a metaphor. I suppose you've got the reason. We can only be in a play. You seem to take your role seriously. While you figure out my figment. I know it's a cover for my failure. I can't prove any of this. But to say I've been put here. As in the eye of a prophet. I've been created for that purpose.

So, if you're going to blame anyone. Suits me if you call it god. A substantial of fun to be had with. Personally, I prefer one to others. The interior self sometimes comes out to play a public role. What you get's an aspect of oneself. If it's only a part you take the piss from time to time. Moi? Profound? Never! Yet I really think.

Slogan of the Day

How can one be oneself with others? A private matter between consenting voices. That's the only reality. Whereas, I'm virtually here. It's a good job I've got some slogans with me. Let me see. How about getting in touch with your real self?

That's asking for trouble. We avoid it like saturated fat. You need a bypass. Keep busy! Be productive! You know what they say. Too much contemplation brings you out in doubt. An idle thought. You can't be sure.

Part Twelve

Try Being By Yourself: Part Twelve

Either I Am or I'm Not

I took a post as uncoverer of the selfconscious. In the past I've overhyphenated. Now that's under control. We pay for analysis. Someone who puts up with the indulgences of others. What makes a good listener? The art of condescension.

I can relieve you of your neuroses. Just relax and foreplay, You want to be desired, don't you? See me as son of freud, the great seducer. I bet you feel better already. As I said in my last affair. You either accept I am or I'm not.

Lying in Contemplation

There's a thin line to work out between obsession. Once you question the answer follows. You must accept I take the lead. That doesn't mean I'm the example. Don't expect me to organise. I couldn't find a castle in the air. However, I manage to function.

Mine's a fecal offering. We pass the present while speculating on futures. Who wants might have been? We'll go out now and get you a contemplation tank. Would you like to lie in wait? As the director said. Where'd we be without light, sound and activity?

SOD: A Sense of Detachment

If you lick enough stamps for the state of anxiety. Too much leisure. That's my trouble. You know what they say about an idle mind makes you melancholic. Unless you can give me good cause to. I mean, What's there to die for? Give me a reason.

One in all in one. Will That do? The cult of one. At least I belong. If you're looking for a distinctive and formal set of principles. A sop for pacification. Look no further than sodism. I stand in for a sense of detachment.

Sod's First Law. Like the only child, create somebody to play in public. I've been occupied with the making of fiction. What else does one do on one's own? It's imperative you represent. Be it only a bacterium in a culture. One wants to spread in the guise of. He acted up in the company of others.

Part Thirteen


Try Being By Yourself: Part One

Trying to Make the Parts Fit a Whole

I really don't know what you're worried about. Where do prepositions go when they end a sentence? It's a question of habit. What do you wear in the simple present? I try to change every day. It gives me something to think about. Take now, for example. I almost always nap at this time. But because you're here I am too.

This is what I want to ask. Up to where were you? Quite frankly, I was declining to be. Trying to make the parts fit a whole. I've got too much to imagine. It barely leaves time to put on an acceptable face.

Who the Fuck Swore Progress?

He woke with a start. How would it be to start with a wake? How many make? We must fall to rise. Anyway, he declared. I've never seen the light like this.

Have you carefully considered the way you walk? Like, the number of ponderables. If you dwell long enough. Who the fuck swore progress? How can anyone claim to be without doubt?

The Power of Self-Deception

Shall we hold there? As the sun alters my position. It's the only reason I can think of. What's yours for doing nothing? Have you got a strong enough one? Would you like to lend me it? But first, you'll have to persuade me. I'm not easily. Look at the lack of success on my own.

Don't dismantle others. You can't undress yourself. The first thing I learnt at my housemaid's knee. Wise guys see their illusions. I go by the name of mocking myself. You could've fooled me. I feel my latest smoke screen coming on. The power of self-deception. To make it stick like joy.

What's Beyond Reasonable Doubt?

The greatest arrogance puts down its thoughts. I'd die for that line. Something occurs to me. I don't want to bother you with it. He wondered where the next aphorism might come from. You're so predictable! Ever anxious. You wouldn't want to force an orgasm, would you? Well. then. I can't possibly win you over.

I've lost myself. When I read through it I was astonished by the number of times you used me. The things we do to promote ourselves. Do you know what's beyond reasonable doubt? I've never gone that far.

Part Two

Try Being By Yourself: Part Two

Put Down What I'm about to Say

The smell of your own shit can be quite reassuring. But that of another's? To think what you thought yesterday bears any resemblance. Put down what I'm about to say. In need of animation? My illusion raises your awareness.

Reasons to continue. When you're alone with yourself. I've heard this one before. As god is my word. It comes out as doubt. With a wide brush in masonry paint. You'd swear the voice inside you belongs to him. Is that enough to claim I'm chosen?

I Must Be, Mustn't I?

It must be the time in life. When push comes to fall. If only I could believe in what I imagine. As it is, I exist on a concept. Is that what matters? Despite this, I still manage to consume and burn calories. So I must be, mustn't I? Without doubt?

Don't you turn on me! Have a go at yourself. To think my reflection lets you see what you"re doing. Don't blame me. I've been put here to undermine your certainty. Mine's shafted enough.

Has the Subject Been Raised Yet?

If this is the play I want a part in it. Do you go or wait for? Does everything depend on which way you look at it? I mean, who wants to be focussed anyway? You've got to laugh. We rush to get on with the next thing. We're scared of breathing space. It's a matter of guts. Have you got enough? Do you feel it in? So that I stimulate your sympathetic nervous system. Let me loose on your transmission.

I'd rather seduce than hope for reproduction. The means by which I lead you aside. Not that I want to quash you. What did she make of it? Her feathers were ruffled. I'm just thinking out loud. You realise. While squatting he was occupied. Has the subject been raised yet? You seem surer than I.

Part Three

Try Being By Yourself: Part Three

The Material of Imagination

Actually, I'm more comfortable in the third person. It's the favoured position. When one's with oneself. Even there's a conversation. Hang on.I'll just get one on the one to one. And you thought it was god. There's little I can do for you. My tongue's tied. When asked what kind of work I don't. It's impossible to talk about myself like that. I'm the material of imagination.

If there's a god one's it. I've never been able to come out and claim the person I am. Is it fitting to survive by putting down others? I walk round your personality, spotting cracks in the illusion. Better bring in the surveyor. I call him one, myself. Am I a case of writer's cramp? Are you sure one can"t be sure? I mean, how do you raise yours when I don't expect myself?

I'm up to Here in Self-Deception

You see the state I'm about to cave in. Are you surprised I'm without support? I've got this great idea. So What? We know you won't implement it. The preacher cam into my practice. What can I do for you? I've got this uncontrollable urge to change the minds of others. Can you give me something for it? Don't ask me, mate. I'm trying to make an impression.

I suppose it's one way of coping. Everything's that. I'm alive and wel.. Living this illusion. Don't butt my head! I'm up to here in self-deception. One doubts oneself. That's why he can't come out. You know what it's like. You're so busy grazing you can't look up.

He Has No Sense of

I could tell from the moment we met. Unlike me, you haven't been called into doubt. Should the pig be headed? Is the prophet cryptic? It's easy for you to talk. I've got to get on with myself. Have you taken that into consideration?

I've just about shed all the light. Nothing matters more. We now it's only a facsimile, don't we? Were, you, last time you checked? He went about his purpose without one. I suppose it gave him a sense of.

Part Four

Try Being By Yourself: Part Four

I'm about to Pass This Motion

When asked what he was composing himself more. I'm trying to put together a character here. He was the grand pontificator. Have you seen your GP recently? If I were you should. But that goes without saying.

I've got to own up. I'm a practising cack-hander. Like the righteous, I scrub my nails afterwards. Would you trust him behind a salad-bar? Anyway, be still. I'm about to pass this motion. He went to the edge and found some soul. That'll keep him going for a while.

Mind Mechanics

Do you really want to be ordered? About what? Basically, gathering information. No time for thought. If you're fast enough there's no reflection. Yet you're always complaining. I'm going to set myself up as a moan consultant. You attend my clinic. Privately, of course. You come to spill your woes. What am I meant to do? Sympathise?

What's therapy for? You want to relieve yourself on me. I go along with the sport. I delude myself into believing I can help you. Need some advice? Seek a professional. You'll find him under mind mechanics.

The Fear of Being Abandoned

Don't say I'm a cynic. I've been there and done that. Anyway, fuck all this bullshit. I'm tired of being wise. Let's decide. Do we prepare ourselves for action or conserve energy? Don't imagine it's down to me.

I hallucinate. I don't want to keep coming across you in my mind. When asked what he wondered while wandering. I don't need interruption. I'm focussing on my autonomic nervous system. Which way will it jump?

You're being delusional again. To think you've got any control. The fear of being abandoned. We could spend here for ever playing the opposite of. I needn't copy myself. I'm daily original. You've got a long wait for the connection. What do you mean by the time?

Part Five

Try Being By Yourself: Part Five

Pity the Poor Nihilist

Try as I might, I can't get you out of my mind. Is that a declaration of love or resentment? We could watch this space together. I've got a great expectation. Don't we ask of everyone? Is this person for real? in my case, no. I'm the first to admit it. I come in verted commas. Behind me sits the master stroker. He composes on crutches. I kick yours. It confirms mine.

You don't seem very sure of yourself today. What's the matter? I keep crossing out. For some reason I try to make sense. What's left in the self to be righteous about? There's nothing like a handicap to get some sympathy. Pity the poor nihilist. He's only got himself to blame.

Make, Do & Consume

How about an equal opportunity? I'm discriminated against because I'm different. Look me up in the index on censorship. I'm being persecuted. Could I be your good cause? You see? There I go again. Putting the paper together. A dissident's dilemma.

Put yourself in my place. I'm out of pegs. Nothing to hang myself on. You really should feel sorry for me. I'm unabled. But will they give me the benefit? Will they fuck! I'm accused of malingering. I cat's help it if I haven't got any reason for being. You expect me to make, do and consume.

It Makes You Realize Doubt

We break into this programme to test your conditioned response. You do want to be, don't you? Without question I must be on a different cycle from you. A fat lot of good perception. It makes you realize doubt.

I mustn't keep on. It's almost enough to give me a reason to. Anyway, you'd only say I was being precious. Dim the lights. His interrogation's about to start. Are you or have you ever been? I'm not sure. What do you think?

Part Six

Try Being By Yourself: Part Six

I'm Always under False Pretences

Listen, are we going to be serious, or what? It's all very well, as he scrubbed the surface. A new slab of compulsion. He's poised, can in hand, to kill all known ideals. The satisfaction of not knowing I'm a cleaner of industrial strength. I'll wipe the mark you've made.

I see you take yourself seriously. Am I expected to do the lines you've given me? I should own up. I'm always under false pretenses. This is no exception. I'm really a compulsive, obsessional behaviourist. In the trade I'm a cobist. If you want my advice. Do you see disorder? I'm unimpressed by your thrust. As you manifest a sense of purpose. You bulge with pride. It's only a cod-piece.

I Try by All Means

God gives plenty to complain about. I'm ashamed of the significance. It comes from the Latin, alucinari, to wander in the mind. The pattern's set in yours. Everything matches the wallpaper. The relentless process of self=justification. Well, of course, that just proves my point. Does it fit the authorised version?

I see by your eyes. You must be on autohagiography. Who am I to tazlk? Is that accident of emergency? We're bring in a serious case of hopelessness. Don't sneer! I'm being sincere. Shall I compare you to a superlative? Are there degrees of nihilism? I lack more purpose than you. That sort of thing. You're called at an inconvenient time. I'm in a void. I try by all means.

I Bet You Can't Wait to Clear Up My Mess

Would a louse cross my path? It's enough to make me change minds. I mean, I keep thinking it's time for the last order. After which we may abandon ourselves.

Are we given permission, possibility and politeness? Here's a simple test. Can you live with the creases in your sheet? Do you have to smooth them out? I can tell by looking at you.re a compulsive, obsessional orderly. I bet you can't wait to clear up my mess.

Part Seven


Waiting to Come Across


Have you got the appetite? What are we wanting for? There's always more than enough. I ceaselessly strive for. I want to be the coolest contemplative in irony. You tell me to sit and watch my breath. See what happens. Will I come across?

Liberal Pundits Promulgate the Ruling Ideology


Obama's liberal critics hark back to Franklin D. Roosevelt and the New Deal But they ignore several vital differences.

First, that American capitalism has undergone a vast transformation since the 1930s and 1940s, including profound economic and industrial decay.

The US ruling elite is in no position either financially or ideologically to initiate the major social programs launched by the New Deal administration.

There is no leading figure in the Democratic Party today who proposes any serious measures against joblessness, poverty or the foreclosure crisis. The two parties are equally at the beck and call of the super-rich.

Second, Obama’s liberal critics forget that Roosevelt was not acting out of the goodness of his heart in enacting the New Deal, but in response to an upsurge in the class struggle.

The Bonus March in the spring and summer of 1932, which mobilized thousands of unemployed and impoverished veterans of World War I, was brutally and violently suppressed by the US military.

The handwriting for social peace in America, under conditions of mass misery, was already on the wall by the time of Roosevelt’s inauguration. He acted to save the profit system from itself.

Many of the liberal commentators in the capitalist media, such Rich, Krugman and Reich, are thoroughly respectable figures. The last thing they desire is a revival of the class struggle.

They belong to a privileged layer of the upper-middle class, enjoying comfortable and economically untroubled routines.

Their cajoling and chastising of Obama and the Democrats proves both their lack of political seriousness and their distance from the conditions of wide layers of the population.

Some 50 million people in the US live in conditions of “food insecurity,” an estimated 80 to 100 million find it difficult to make daily ends meet. Our commentators are indifferent to that.

They long ago abandoned, if they ever adhered to, the category of class. Fearful of the growth of the right, currently in the form of the Tea Party movement, they long for calmer, more restful times. More than anything else, they yearn for conditions in which their “cultural” and lifestyle concerns might be met.

The above-cited pundits and others of their ilk point to certain obvious truths—that while the Republicans fight ferociously, the Democrats are always two-faced, insincere and groveling—but they are incapable of drawing any sharp and politically decisive conclusions.

They delude themselves and others with the notion that, subjected to the right arguments, the proper amount of pressure, Obama and his administration can emerge as the champion of the people.

That miracle will never happen before the Day of Judgment, and those who perpetuate such illusions play a reactionary role. This sort of complacent petty-bourgeois politics has disastrous consequences for the working class.

It reinforces the hold of the big business Democrats over workers. It confuses and paralyzes them politically, and makes inevitable the advance of the ultra-right and ever deeper attacks on social conditions, living standards and democratic rights.

The liberal establishment hacks are at one on this. They seek to prevent an understanding of the class character and history of the Democratic Party and of the need for the working population to break with it, once and for all.

Soak the Masses, Save the Rich


The greatest sign that U.S. capitalism is moving backwards, and dragging the workers and oppressed with it, is the new deficit commission. It should be called the “capitalist commission to soak the masses and save the rich.”

Its mission completely verifies our analysis that capitalism is at an impasse and headed toward deeper crisis.

The document put forward the other week by the two commission co-chairs will probably change drastically in its details over time.

But what it signifies is that the ruling class is reacting to the crisis by getting ready to impose an austerity program on the workers and the oppressed.

The original proposal seeks to cut the deficit by $4 trillion through cutbacks to Social Security benefits, raising the retirement age to 69.

Also, cutting back on Medicaid, cutting social spending, changing the tax structure to lower corporate taxes and income taxes on the rich, and many other methods. Their crisis is so severe that they have even proposed cuts in the military.

The deficit commission is the result of the bailouts. The financial crisis is not because of Social Security or Medicaid.

It's because of all the money that has been spent to support the banks, to buy toxic mortgages, to bail out the auto industry, to bail out AIG and other financial parasites.

It's because the bosses have laid off millions of workers across the country and the government tax revenue is decreasing as the economy goes down.

The deficit is the result of the capitalist state absorbing the crisis of the bankers and the bosses into itself. It is a capitalist crisis commission that seeks to unload the crisis upon the masses by drastic cutbacks of gains won over the last hundred years.

Consider that the U.S. is the richest, most powerful country in the world, with the largest economy, the highest technology, the biggest businesses.

Yet the ruling class, by ordering an austerity program, is admitting that it is facing a dire future and cannot grow out of this crisis on its own.

CNBC: Wall-to-Wall Capitalist Propaganda


Turn on CNBC at any hour of the day, and you'll hear mouthpieces for Wall Street explaining that wealthy individuals and big corporations need more tax breaks so they can "create jobs."

Of course, they have it completely backwards. What creates jobs in the economy is demand. And nothing has sapped demand in the U.S. economy more than the squeeze on the middle class.

Which brings us to the recommendations for reducing the federal deficit released Wednesday by the co-chairs of the National Committee on Fiscal Reform, the egregious Alan Simpson and the Wall-Streeter-in-Democrats'-clothing Erskine Bowles.

Simpson and Bowles would cut retirement payouts for the middle and working class by gutting Social Security. Lay off 10,000 federal employees. Charge for admission to government museums and federal parks.

Add co-pays for veterans' medical care. Cut subsidies for local governments' water and sewer-treatment projects. Eliminate subsidies for public schools. Eliminate federal aid for airport improvements.

Do these proposals really shrink the deficit? They might shrink the federal deficit, but they're bound to expand state and local deficits, and your household deficit.

That means less money to spend in the consumer economy, which means less business for the big companies that are being flacked for by those talking heads on CNBC.

Nobody has to launch a class war against the wealthy in this country, as CNBC keeps fretting about -- they're perfectly willing to cut their own throats.