pay money, pay respect
don't insult my intellect...
this post is dedicated to raymi.
she's the woman
can't nobody touch her
hangs with the elite
makes her papes from the gutter...
hi raymi. please come to the party in NYC. if need be I’ll drive up to t-dot and pick you up. I’ll bring presents for yr moms to win her over. Grapenuts and light cigarettes and other healthy things…
“only 4% of people on the internet read blogs”
raymi is what it’s all about. the pix, the attitude. when I first saw her blog I knew there was a next level to all of this…an alter ego playground, a role playing game for the future. Bill Gates, can you smell me? The internet is for losers who feed off the beautiful like vampires, but it's OK because it usually feels pretty good.
It’s all coming together. I need a little while to formulate, make some power moves…
But until then, I’ll be raymi’s slave…
as I type this there are a million cops milling about grand central and they’re pulling over every van and truck driven by a brown driver. I passed by a white van with its doors flung wide open like a girl with her skirt pulled up around her neck and it reminds me of when I was in Maryland during the whole sniper thing. The fact that it turned out to be an American black dude and his teenage sidekick knocked all this shit into a new perspective. and when I say knocked into I mean, like, right out of the park.
I’m having a day where I feel as though everyone I see I’ve seen before, like the whole city is filled with TV extras and waitresses, bartenders I stiffed…masseuses I wish I had...
the past inside the present
365dumps
fuck yeah I’m trying to market this thing. they don’t call me BRAND for nothing.
BRAND NEW
TRUE BLUE SAGA.
I’d like to write a ballet about a girl who goes to sleep after drinking an old fashioned spiked by this total dick who claims to be her best friend and greatest protector. She falls into a drug-induced sleep in which she dreams that the two of them fall in love and have a relationship. The setting is all tripped out in a Wizard of Oz kinda way with everyone dancing around like maniacs. The music will be Scott Walker, that album he did of all Jacques Brel covers.
The question is should it end when she wakes up and realizes it was all a dream and he raped her in the ass while she was out for the count—in other words, as a tragedy, or should it end with her systematically slicing up her attacker in a scene with resonances to an earlier moment in the dream world, perhaps when she was cutting reams of psychedelic silk for her wedding dress or something?
What do you want to know? If I’m a real person, if I have feelings too? If I’m some kinda robot?
“Things changed after you started blogging,” she said.
“Yeah, I know.”
“You had less time for everything, less time to go out, less time for me.”
“Because I was writing?”
“Yeah. Because you were…writing.”
tinylittlepenis
I was searching google for a pics of fred flintstone when I came across this guy. the .jpg is named fred flintstone I think it’s from a car customization site but I was too high and freaked out to stay and find out more. i mean, why is he popping up out of the back like that? that photoshop stuff isn’t mine, btw, it came like that.
the reason I was looking for pix of fred flinstone is I wanted one of that little green martian fag who used to float around his head in the later episoides. I think his name was Kazoo? anyway, he had a dope helmet with a WiFi antenna in the back so he had a constant connection and was always online. too bad he had to deal with fat stupid fred all the time.
it ain’t easy being green.
this blog was made for you and me.
now that i understand this right
let me take it to the mic
this revolution has just begun
SOMEWHERE IN SPACE THIS COULD ALL BE HAPPENING RIGHT NOW...
fuck it. I’m alive. I’m young. this is my time, there won’t be another. I want it all, I want them to come here, I want this to be the biggest party ever.
I want to celebrate the fact that it’s a sad and beautiful world. I want to party with the trust fund kids, Mexican gangbangers, spanish girls wearing old navy and their baby daddys… I wanna get high with that dude from around the way with the maimed hand, and those old drunk queens with horny toenails, not to mention the pretty Indian men who stand on the subway platform and let the wind suck their fine tailored shirts against their slender chests…I wanna get a light from the smoking downtown angels with luck on every finger and hang by the door with those goblin people who are on some new drug that makes their faces scrunched up like in a Toulouse Lautrec poster.
I want it I want it I want it and most of all I want to be able to click pause at any time and change the channel...
...and write a post...
(or three)
THIS IS TONIGHT:
-----Original Message-----
From: Neil deGrasse Tyson [mailto:tyson@amnh.org]
Sent: Thursday, May 27, 2004 8:15 AM
To: xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: Manhattan-Henge: It's that time of year again...
Dear Museum Community
It's that time of year again....
MANHATTAN-HENGE
What will future civilizations think of Manhattan Island when they
dig it up and find a carefully laid out network of streets and avenues?
Surely the grid would be presumed to have astronomical significance,
just as we have found for the pre-historic circle of large vertical
rocks known as Stonehenge, in the Salisbury Plain of England. For
Stonehenge, the special day is the summer solstice, when the Sun rises
in perfect alignment with several of the stones, signaling the chage of
season.
For Manhattan, a place where the evening matters more than the
morning, that special day comes on May 28; one of only two days in the
year when the Sun sets in exact alignment with the Manhattan grid,
fully illuminating every single cross-street for the last fifteen
minutes of daylight. The other day is July 11th. Had Manhattan's grid
been perfectly aligned with the geographic north-south line, then our
special day would be the Spring equinox, and if we so designated, the
Autumn equinox -- the only two days on the calendar when the Sun ruses
due East and sets due West. But Manhattan is rotated 30 degrees east
from geographic north, shifting the days of alignment elsewhere into
the calendar. Upon studying American culture, and what is important to
it, future anthropologists might credit the Manhattan alignments to
cosmic signs of Memorial Day and, of course, the All-Star break. War
and Baseball.
Because Manhattan is so small (13 mile long) compared with Earth's
distance to the Sun (about 93 million miles), the Sun's rays are
essentially parallel by the time they reach Manhattan, allowing the Sun
to be seen on all cross streets simultaneously, provided you have a
clear view to the New Jersey horizon. Some major streets cross the
entire island from river to river without obstruction, including 14th,
34th, and 42nd streets. While the May 28 sunset qualifies as the exact
day for this auspicious moment, the surrounding days will also work, as
the point of sunset migrates slowly north from day to day along the
horizon, bringing with it ever-lengthening daylight hours.
Sunset on Manhattan-henge begins at 8:10PM, at a cross-street near
you.
+++++++++++++++++++++
Image of "Sunset on 34th Street" as it first appeared among eh
photo-essays of "City of Stars," Natural History magazine: http://www.naturalhistorymag.com/city_of_stars/19_sunset_34th.html
Download a high-res image of "Sunset on 34th Street" http://research.amnh.org/users/tyson/publications/ManhattanSunset.html
+++++++++++++++++++++
As always, keep looking up,
-Neil deGrasse Tyson
Department of Astrophysics
& Director, Hayden Planetarium
American Museum of Natural History
Central Park West at 79th Street
New York, NY 10024
http://research.amnh.org/users/tyson
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